Twas the Night Before @LRA_LitResearch & All Through The House (This Madman Was Frantic). Phew!

Maybe I shouldn't have hosted Thanksgiving at my house, because I've been feeling like a turkey with my head cut off post-NCTE and NWP. Still, the work being done at the Connecticut Writing Project at Fairfield University needs to be shared, so I am going to California to present on two years of work with Project Citizen and Ubuntu Academy, in relation with the Invitational Summer Institute.

I did the numbers. In the last two years this work has served 100 young people and 45 teachers in collaboration for best writing practices and writing.

It doesn't cover the 1,000s of kids and teachers who have gone through CWP's programs since 2014.

Last night, however, I had the last instructional class for content area literacy students and it was an absolute blast. I've done this "scripted" workshop before, but for some reason it totally resonated with the math, history, science, English and foreign language teachers I'm working with this year. I brought in special guest, Lawrence O'Toole Teacher Leadership Awardee Shaun Mitchell to help me with the presentation. In short, the educators got theatrical, whimsical and intellectual with multimodal communication and New Literacies, as we did a night of artistic and theatrical communication.

Shaun wrote late last night, "I needed that. I haven't heard a group of adults laugh or have fun as much as they did in your class in a very long time. It was rejuvenating."

(cough cough). I couldn't do it without him.

The skinny is that the graduate students performed a script that tapped their individual interests as we begin to head to the final laps of the semester (and yes, I always add 4th grade jokes to the script). We used the inspiration of Scholastic Arts Awards with the success of Shaun Mitchell's classroom to make a case for why drawing, sculpting, performance, writing, creativity, and painting belong in all subject areas.

I knew by the way that doors slammed in my hall that we were on to something. There was tremendous laughter and joy coming from room 101 of Canisius Hall and it reminded me of my teaching days in Kentucky when the humorous learning from my classroom created disturbance from more traditional folk.

Laughter? Joy? Happiness? Love? What does that have to do with literacy?

I'd argue everything.

So, I have a 5 a.m. departure time and I am looking forward to seeing a new part of the country. Of course, I wish I could pack Chitunga, Abu, Ali, Lossine, Kanyea, Akbaru, and others to come with me, but that's not the way this program rolls. Instead, I'm bringing part of the story of what we're doing in southern Connecticut and I am thrilled to offer the whacky, yet working, intellectual contributions being made.

Ah, but on the other side of the continent? We got this. It's all for my Syracuse University family. Inhale. Exhale. Happiness. That's what I'm after.

Total Awe of a Teaching Hero, @Othello88, For His Leadership Last Night. I Want to Learn More

I had the great honor of hosting Westhill High School Teacher, Dave Wooley, in an Invitational Leadership Institute a few year's back. In his interview for that program, he busted out with a verse about 9/11 and the loss of his father that I will never forget.

Fast forward to his summer experience where he composed a piece called "Walls," which was a critique of a newly-elected president's immigration policies (and a response to Rick Shaefer's artwork - Refugee Trilogy). I was sold. We're both hard-working fellas who love what we do and can get emotional with our writing.

I've loved Dave so much that I hired him two summers in a row to co-instruct Project Citizen , a federally funded summer camp to diversify argumentative writing to youth from high needs schools. Dave and I, as well as others on our team, have presented several times at national conferences and his talent always wins the audience. He's a hip-hop artist and uses the genre to connect with his students in Stamford.

Last night, however, Dave Wooley dropped the intellect. It's not just a craft - creating rhythms and rhymes to tell the stories he wishes to express. No, it's an educational journey and he knows what he's talking about. He lived the rise of Hip Hop as a Staten Island Kid and his music career (as well as teaching) has been aligned with the real-estate, cultural, and artistic evolution of hip-hop as a genre. He's a reader, a thinker, and a doer - so his presentation during a Black Lives Matter course was extremely well received.

I wasn't able to stay for the whole thing because I had other obligations, but I found myself making mental notes from the knowledge he was dropping. Yes, he performed (and I've seen him master that), but he also provided historical context, passionate argumentation, and tremendous evidence for why he does what he does.

He is a National Writing Project gem and I couldn't be prouder of calling him an accomplice, a neighbor, a teacher scholar, and friend.

I'm heading into my Tuesday knowing I'm a better man because of him. His students are lucky, as are his sons (and my colleague who I also adore).

Here's to Dave Wooley and the man he is for all of us. He is someone we all can learn from.

I'm Voting for @GordoJack - Reflecting on YOUR OWN WORST ENEMY

I ran for student office once. I was in 8th grade and I wanted to be the President of the junior Honor Society and, unbeknownst to me at the time, I ran against a young woman who would become my friend, eventually valedictorian of a huge high school, Ms. North Syracuse, and an all-out athlete who would go onto to an Ivy-League school as a pre-med student.

Ha! I thought I stood a chance.

Nope. I was creamed.

Perhaps this is why I absolutely loved reading Your Own Worst Enemy written by Gordon Jack, a resident of San Francisco and a high school librarian, and why I will definitely check into The Boomerang Effect, his first novel. Why? Easy - he's a whimsical writer who gets the pulse of adolescents, but also the humor of any election process given the vast viewpoints of a heterogenous society.

I've never been a Stacey, but I've worked alongside them my entire life. They are polished go-getters who read the cultural landscape to place their personal agendas before everyone else's and who will manipulate and work through systems to achieve their personal gains. Still, they are human and this comes with flaws, self-afflicted high standards, and a competitive drive that serves them well. I don't have that in me.

I've lived a life wishing I was more Tony Guo, a type B personality who has one platform - to bring chocolate milk back to the school cafeteria and to find the next party so he can get intoxicated with any and all poisons that will help him to attain a care-free life.

I've longed for Julia, the multicultural girl in search of a new reputation after being part of a social media scandal at her old school in Canada - a believable kid who got caught up in the popularity game of dating and the horrendous power struggles of boyfriends and girlfriends, jealousy and mischief. But she came to Lincoln High School for a new life.

The problem for all three, however, is the sibling rivalry of Brian and Kyle, who both are involved in the Presidential election for the GSA. Brian's in love with Julia, but best friends with Stacey, and Kyle...well, Kyle simply wants to use his Mohawk nickname to the best of his abilities...to punk out the entire student body to help Tony, the pothead, win.

Phew! We have a plot, and given the 2016 election as a symbolic landscape the wars begin. What will achieve presidential success? Populist votes (chocolate milk appeals to freshman), multicultural perspectives (Lincoln High School is a diverse environment, but has little governmental representation), or party traditions ("We speak for xxxx, because xxxx should be important for us all"). The result? 436 pages of story, character development, intrigue, humor and...well...politics.

Gordon Jack sat on a panel with me during the Saugatuck StoryFest in Westport, Connecticut, and a few weeks later a friend of his sent me an advanced reader's copy (ARC) of the book. I started it at the airport on my way to the National Council of Teacher's of English and finished it by the time I landed in Houston. My 14-hour trip gave me plenty of reading time. I knew I had a good book in my hand because I began doggy-earing pages of the book, because I was thinking about how Your Own Worst Enemy might be paired in Civics or Political Science class as a Young Adult Novel accompaniment.

In the end, I loved the entire read and can't help but be drawn to Brian (although he spells his name wrong). Here's a young man who simply works behind the scenes to help his friend get elected, but then falls in love with her opponent (hint: it's not Tony, although Stacey wouldn't be surprised). Brian moves the story along, trying to do what is right and to conceal his bodily functions (he can't help himself or the way his random urges present themselves in class).

In the end, we all know the individuals who come forward to be part of Lincoln High School's student government election. What we tend not to know is the thick dimensions behind characters who act as they do.

Fun. Worthwhile. Poignant. Clever.

Those are the 4 words I'm attributing to reading Gordon Jack's 2nd novel. As the jacket says, "When they go low, we go slightly lower," is the case of getting votes in a high school election. There are so many ways to anger the constituency when you are fighting to get the most votes. Sadly, we tend not to pay enough attention to what the majority want or need.

Democracy is hard and Lincoln High is a metaphor for it.

Happy Birthday, Kid. You Get Overdosed with Turkeys When You Come Home To Celebrate

Well, Sunday, you came quicker than I wanted you to, and today is the Eagle's birthday - the Chitunga kid's celebration - and with this date comes his 23rd birthday.  It doesn't seem possible to think about how fast everything flies, but that is the beauty of this life thing. One second it is this way and POOF the next second it is another way.

Pam and Kaitlyn came over for Thanksgiving leftovers, which is good, because there's only so much these love handles can take of mashed potatoes, dressing, and bread. I told them, "You came to say Happy Birthday to Chitunga, and now you'll want to go home for a nap."

The tree is now put up, but as typical, the outside lights couldn't have a complete illuminated strand, so I ran errands to replace the ones that are dead. It's official - Mount Pleasant is completely decorated.

"Tunch" went out with friends for dinner and drinks, and I stayed home to bake him brownies and wrap his presents. Last night, he took me to the movies, which should have been the other way around (but I know how his mind works - he likes to show he's responsible, too, and I am 100% grateful for that) .

I'm heading to the office today to work on the $6,000 on my credit card to cover grant expenses, hoping the reimbursement will come back to me before the holidays (I've inquired, and the University insists this is how they do business...phew! right before the holidays, too).

I got my grading done, and I also need to prepare for the Literacy Research Association conference in Indian Hills, California. I can marinate on that for a while - the premiere literacy conference, post Thanksgiving and extremely expensive, in Indian Hills -- you can't make any of that up).

Tunga is hitting the road extremely early so he can have one last breakfast with an old friend, and I'm nerding out with the paper that needs to be written.

It is more tranquil, however, knowing that at night I get the lights and tree to come home to and that the kid only has two weeks before finals, and then the winter recess begins (um, okay - he's a little too much like me and he's spending his recess taking online courses).

Laundry. Check. Dishes. Check. Holiday gift bags and wrapping. Check. A fantastic 10K run accomplished. Check.

But here we are Sunday. It's all about celebrating this amazing kid (and yes, Nikki. I packed the record player in his car).

Newt Scamander Gets Nifflers. All I Get are Dog Food-Stealing Mice.

We Three Kings of Orient Are...

the hiding places for rodents.

I got my Christmas decorations upstairs yesterday and when I got into one box I simply noted, 'Oh, we've had visitors.' I could tell by the mouse poop that they'd been in my nativity set. Worse, they snuck dog food from upstairs down the basement and stored 'em up the asses of the Three Wisemen.
Seriously, all 3 golden Kings were stuffed with dog food and mouse feces.

It was gross.

On a lighter note, Chitunga and I went to see Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindewald last night (as we watched the 1st one On Demand late Thanksgiving night. The truest in me sort of stopped with the original Harry Potters, but the magic has continued and the films are great (actually, the beasts make them great). We didn't get home from the theater until midnight. It was FREEZING.

Ah, but most of our holiday goods are up and we only have the outside lights and ornaments to take care of. The tree lights (it's time for a new tree) were totally out, so we stripped them and I went up to Targets and replaced them all.

The house smells like pine trees again and the lights are aglow with white happiness and the snowflakes to come. But I'm going back to Fantastic Beasts: a great great film and I absolutely love the character of Newt Scamander! Quirky and wonderful in all ways.

With Even More Appreciation For All the Holiday Dinners Before Mine

 Up at 7, cooking by 7:30, and eating by 2:30. Phew. Guests left about 7:30 at night. Double Phew.

Delicious.

I tried a new recipe with honey and brown sugar, to bake with carrots and it was superb. Also attempted a new mashed potato recipe that was also nailed. Kaitlyn's brussel-sprouts were delicious, as was Pam's stuffing and gravy. The turkey? Well, that was superb. All in all it was an A+ sort of meal without one crime or misdemeanor.

Then came the turkey coma.

Actually, when one hosts there is no time for such a coma, so I cleaned up while everyone else moved into a vegetative state. After the main meal was finished, I made room for the desserts and put on a pot of coffee.

That turned into a screening of Fantastic Beasts (Nic Stone will be proud), which turned out to be 110% better than I anticipated (she says the second is even better).

And we welcomed Akbaru and Kemoy to this year's thankfulness, offering them a location to eat with friends and family in celebration of what the holiday is all about.

Waking up this morning, I'm already thinking about grading, planning for next week, and Christmas decorations. Tunga took a huge nap after the tryptophan kicked in, so I imagine he stayed up late and will sleep in even later.

As for Glamis. Shoot. She retired about the time we started the movie. She simply wanted everyone to leave so she could have her the entire space as her bedroom. Someone must have fed her turkey, too.

Happy Turkey Day! May No One Freeze Today in the Northeast & May the Gravy Be Grande!

I was outside raking yesterday while Chitunga was at the barber, when the mailman pulled up with a package just in time for the kid's birthday weekend. Glamis was extremely intrigued by the gift and couldn't wait for him to return and open it.

By the way, Glamis doesn't really allow Chitunga any alone time - as she follows him with his every move.

When Chitunga returned, he dug in. Sue said a pair of Kentucky bourbon socks and a couple of Happy Balls! Kentucky bourbon ones and Glamis, watching him unravel the gifts, put her paw on the table in anticipation. One can easily tell that she needs her nails cut. She had a solid grasp of that table wondering if anything was for her.

The green sticks. They had her name on it and her intuition kicked in. She knew something that Chitunga was unraveling had to be for her. She was right. It was worth her wait.

So, it's morning. There's a high of 27 degrees today with windshield down in the single digits. This is a perfect day for a 5K Turkey Trot, which Chitunga and Kaitlyn are doing while I prep the food and get the house rearranged. Brrrr. I will await for it to warm up some in the day before I do my run (but if I wasn't cooking, I'd totally be with them).

Here's to your dinners, your desserts, your coffees, your chaos, and you're thankfulness. May it be a memorable and reflective day.

Demonstrating Flexibility: Online Teaching The Night Before Student Turkey Travel

One of these days I'll master a syllabus with an understanding for how the University rolls, as well as my students. There are no classes on Wednesday and most undergraduate courses were empty on Tuesday, as well. Knowing I was coming home from Houston, and that my seniors who take my graduate course had to be out of the dorms by 5 p.m., I opted to go Brady Bunch-style with a ZOOM session, so everyone could call in.

My fear? Well, the sharing of desktops of the two students who had to present, especially one - Joanna - who created a multimodal presentation of her literacy lineage.

Boom! She didn't fail any of us; instead, she navigated between a Powerpoint, a POWToon digital story, and an oral presentation. She kidded the class that she was twice as old as they, so her presentation had to be twice as long. Actually, she did a remarkable job and impressed us all, including this professor who, like her, would go about the assignment in a non-traditional way. She had everything from cartoon-selves, to slides of 80s & 90s music, plutons the remarkable journey her life has taken with family, literature, and raising her children herself.

I didn't want to take the entire two hours, so I let everyone go early. I had other tasks I needed to attend to, plus my mind is where my mother and father's usually is when ever I travel home. I am thinking of Chitunga and sending guardian angels to watch over his sojourn from Syracuse to Mt. Pleasant. I can't wait to see him.

I'm finishing my coffee and then contemplating the meal for tomorrow - prepping as much as I can, channeling Grandma Vera and the heat from her cooking that created condescension on all her windows by the time we all arrived.

Family. It's sad not to be with my sisters and parents, but feels wonderful that my home will be filled with friends and family in Connecticut (although Abu, Kanyea, and Lossine couldn't make it this year)(even so, they will be on my mind, as always).

And it's a day of layering up. Temperatures are crazy low and I am thinking of the Northstars who will have to parade their shine at the Macy's Parade in scarves, long johns, and extra socks. I'm looking forward to seeing the blue and green in the apple!

Channelling Glamis the Wonder Dog for Inspiration - What We Need Post #NCTE18 Before the Turkey

We walked. We played. And she rested.

I wish I had this life, but truth be told I am enthralled and inspired by my furry friend. She does her thing and then rests (no, she's not allowed on the furniture, but yes, I allow her when I catch her like this).

Hello, world. This is Glamis when she goes into total fox-curl on the Crandall chair (I bought that chair on clearance at Pier One and guess what? It was called the "Crandall" chair).

I love seeing her in a tight knot of her furry existence.

Typically, the Crandall chair is actually my Crandall chair and it is where I sit to read and concentrate on writing that needs the most attention.

Recently, Glamis has been caught more and more in this chair when I'm not there. It's her go-to place and I have to acknowledge it as a location of comfort and a symbol for what I should do much more of - REST.

This is for all of us who just returned from Houston. I counted 742 emails that came in while at the conference that I have not been able to get to. I also know that I am roasting a turkey and hosting a feast in my house this Thursday. It's a lot. The work never ends. It's too much.

I get that.

Ah, but Glamis reminds me to "really" get it. It's okay to rest and to take a time out - to curl up and chill out when the need comes forward. I can learn from her (and I am conscious about learning more from her).

She is my symbol for a post-NCTE, pre-LRA (and holiday) life. Chill the #@$#@ out! It's okay.

A poor player / who struts and frets upon the stage / until he is heard no more.

The nothing is signified. I find comfort in that and so I'm setting out to rest.

The Skyline That Brought It Full Circle - Leaving Nashville, Ready for Home, and Very, Very Thankful

Arriving to Houston was an ordeal. I didn't think I was going to make it.

Being in Houston was a thrill. Although I didn't have time to explore the city, I enjoyed running in 70-degree weather and getting a taste of the city.

This morning, I worked up a sweat arriving to my last sessions, and then was soaked to the bone when I left the Convention Center and got caught in a downpour of rain that I wasn't prepared for.

I was drenched.

Then, leaving, I got a skyline that said, "Crandall, it may have been a tricky trip with all the crazy, but look at what the Great Whatever is sending you off with." That was my plane and I took it as the rains left Texas.

Of course, I arrived to 30-degrees and snow on the ground in the pitch-black of Connecticut life, but I am home and safe without incident on the return.

I will say, however, that traveling on Thanksgiving weekend is not fun and I'm not a fan of how the airline industry has transformed itself into customer-unfriendly, horrific travel experiences. The airports were insane - no room to stand (let alone sit) and ridiculous treatment for its customers. My legs will have electric shocks for the next month, because the seats are so crammed. And I will never understand why they board the outside seats, followed by the inside seats, and settling with the middle seats (in that order), especially during a time when they charge so much to check bags and everyone carries them on as overhead items. The stewards and stewardesses all assured me that the corporate decision-making is totally economical and they've figured out the funding to gain as much as they can from customers.

I do know, that I'm slowly not loving to travel by plane. It is the same stress felt whenever I try to quickly grab something at Walmart and then face customer service there (with the lines, rudeness, and overwhelming nature of it all).

But, I am thankful. NCTE 2018 was a thrill and I am looking forward to settling down to turkey and plans for big things ahead.

Good Morning world (although, waking up, I'm ready to say Good Night). I'm exhausted, but all is well. 

We Are Family! I Got My NWP People and Me! @WritingProject Brunch Today. Woot Woot.

Throughout NCTE, when I came across a National Writing Project friend, we'd all say the same thing, "It seems weird that we didn't kick off the conference with a day for ourselves." This year, we will exit the literacy celebration by brunching our way out. I, personally, am looking forward to seeing all of us united in one space again. It's been hit or miss finding people, but tomorrow we congregate.

Actually, yesterday, I did 3 sessions and they all had NWP focus, so the cousins began appearing here and there. William King, Jessica and I did a session on our Ubuntu work in a session on empathy with Nicole Mirra, Antero Garcia, and Christopher Rogers. We had a full house and split ourselves up in rotating sessions, allowing for more NWP interaction. William, Jessica and I decided to do a presentation by simply asking one another questions and, after responding, bouncing another question  the other way. This went on for 20 minutes each round, but then we opened it to the guests. As I was sitting and participating, I realized we actually created an Ubuntu circle, although the panoramic makes it look like a square. It really was an engaging conversation and I will present in this fashion again.

I have one more presentation this morning, and then I am going to scramble some eggs and and put syrup on some pancakes with the NWP family, then I head to the airport to leave. I am very hopeful that my return to CT will be much better than my arrival to NCTE. Knock on wood that it's not another 14-hour stress-fest.

Okay, I need to get going, but all is well and wonderful. Already looking forward to NCTE 2019 in Baltimore! Let me eat turkey, however, before I begin to think about that.

A Highlight for @NCTE #NCTE2018 Is Introducing Teachers to the Conference & To Inspirations @ChrisCrutcher

Meet Hero #1: Chris Crutcher, the YA King, the author, the therapist, the humanitarian, the thinker, the athlete, the dreams, and the magician. He was a keynote

Meet Hero #2: Jayné Penn, Georgetown University athlete, Fairfield University Grad, Fairfield College Preparatory Teacher, Reacher, Coach & first time attendee. She presented on teaching empathy through sports at an all-male high school.

That was day one of NCTE. That, and presenting my own work with Hoops Africa: Ubuntu Matters and our LRNG collaborative work with digital literacies. 

Always wonderful to see friends in the hallways, at sessions, at the book arena (got a ribbit/cockle doodle doo with the Rooster, himself, Kwame Alexander), and on the streets.

As much as I loved yesterday, I'm looking forward to today as I'll be presenting on Ubuntu Academy, Little Lab with Big Imaginations, and Project Citizen. I'm hoping my teachers get big audiences for the incredible work that they continue to do with CWP-Fairfield. Sometimes it takes a conference like NCTE to help them to see how truly amazing they are: visionaries, activists, movers, and shakers.

I need to get breakfast and head back to the Convention Center. 

Looking forward to more engagement.

It Was a 14-Hour Flight (My Arms Are Tired From Flapping), But I Am @NCTE #NCTE18

• The truth is, my flight left on time from Hartford. but a storm hit Philly about the time I was supposed to land.
• That truth is we circled for a half hour but I still landed in time for my next flight.
• The truth is that American Airlines decided that my flight would leave 10 minutes early, so they closed the door and wouldn't allow me and another fellow on even though we were there 20 minutes before the scheduled departure.
• The truth is people were scrambling everywhere. 
• The truth is a ticket agent said I might be able to make a flight to Charlotte if I went to Terminal A. I was in terminal F.
• The truth is I'm a runner so me and this fellow ran. I estimate it was about 2 miles. I was happy about this because I wouldn't have to run later.
• The truth is I got a ticket to Charlotte. The fellow with me was denied. I got the last one. Sometimes truths are hard to swallow.
• The truth is we sat on the tarmac for over two hours.
• The truth is, while we sat there, my teachers were arriving to Houston, but NCTE didn't have payment for them.
• The truth is my University is on a new accounting system and this is par for the course.
• The truth is they took my credit card
• The truth is I had no knee room, but made it to Charlotte with a snoring man next to me and a much heavier credit card bill.
• The truth is this drama allowed me time to read two books. 
• The truth is I finally got to eat at 5:30 pm in Charlotte before I headed out to Houston.
• The truth is that was the fastest 3 hours of my life because I was seated next to a colleague from Wake Forest and we caught up.
• The truth is a Texan on the plane was not happy that we were talking the entire flight and he let us know when we landed, graciously rude with a Texan drawl about his need for sleep.
• The truth is my Uber drive offered me several recipes that had helped his son get laid - Texas style - and that his map died so we used my phone to find the hotel.
• The truth is our room is way nicer than I anticipated.
• The truth is that Dave, Rich and Shaun had a bottle of bourbon waiting for me.
• The truth is I sipped a bourbon before I quickly fell asleep.
• The REAL truth is I can't wait to see everyone and I'm so excited to be here.

Two presentations today. Three Tomorrow and one more event on Sunday. I'm sipping my coffee now, but then sprinting to my first session.

Here's to all of us. 

#NCTE18 - Ready to Bloom with @CWPFairfield Teachers @NCTE with @WritingProject Friends

Here we go! In January we sent proposals, and by summer we knew what was selected. For the last few months we've looked at data and prepped our presentations. Our CWP-Fairfield crew of 10 has 6 presentations over the next four days, plus a much needed brunch with the National Writing Project family. Somehow, I got all the goods packed into a carry-on (I've cooked for my house/dog-sitters so they will have food, I cleaned so I am not embarrassed for them to live here, and I've stuffed folders for handouts for all the sessions).

Ah, but before I had time to focus on my travels from Connecticut to Houston, I needed to finish a giant project with my undergraduate students during a turbo-course Wednesday. They have no idea what I'm up to, but they will on December 5th when their hard work is presented to the Principal of Columbus K-8 with the artwork I devised in my head. I teach Philosophy of Education and, cough-cough, my philosophy should be obvious from the project.

Truth: The undergraduates folded almost 300 paper- flowers as part of class today. I didn't anticipate the joy, but they got totally ZEN with the labor. When I said, "We have enough flowers," they grew disgruntled. I think they needed the hands-on artistry - expressing themselves in a way that is different than text proved to be very therapeutic. It's flu season at Fairfield University and many of them had sniffles. I now look forward to the final product - for now, let's just say that my office is loaded with tissue paper love that I will return to after NCTE.

Speaking of love - it's my favorite time of year. I'm looking forward to meeting with CT friends in Texas to present on yearlong work, as well as to present with national literacy leaders. I'm also looking forward to the new friends that will be with us this year: K-12 literacy educators who gain brilliant expertise from NCTE and who have opportunity to meet stellar writers and dreamers. They are the ones who understand that teaching is a profession.

Our schedule is above. It's not that I'm presenting - it's that WE'RE presenting. I am very proud to have 10 others from the CWP-Fairfield site doing their thing this year deep in the heart of Texas. I'm also applauding the two newbies coming with our crew who recently graduated from Fairfield University with Masters in Elementary Education and Teacher Education Foundations. We are stronger together.

But, it's time to hit the road, to the plane, to the connection flight, and to the destination. With luck, we'll get to the hotel in a decent hour and pick up our materials before heading to bed Then, on Friday, at 9:30 a.m. - it begins! Love that this year's kick-off is with Dr. Alan Brown and the afternoon is with two of my favorite literacy gurus, Dr. Shelbie Witte and Dr. Jennifer Dail.

It will be a love fest, indeed.

I'm so ready for the love. Here comes Crandall and his crew.

And On This Wednesday, I Am Contemplating Fruit & Nut Bites. Um, Okay

Perhaps it's the latest craze to hit Fairfield County, but a graduate student brought a snack to share with the class (trying to stay healthy and on top of every-more-stressful lifestyles) called Fruit and Nut Bites. It was a packaged nugget of condensed something that tasted good and, well, offered a flavor, but not much substance.

That's what I had for dinner last night. I'm not sure if it is supposed to be filling, or healthy, or purposeful, but it is what is now being carried in snack-bags of my students.

I ate it, and felt like I was teased with 1/20th of a real fruit. I kept wondering, "What's the use of this? It took more calories to open the package than I actually consumed."

Onward. No clue. But onward.

Oka, Wednesday, there's just a 2.5 hour turbo course between you and packing and getting groceries and making sure Glamis has dog sitters and submitting a grant report and then resting for a 4-day stint in Houston.

Last night, when I went to bed, I simply shook my head to declare, "I'm exhausted."

Truth.

I'm exhausted.

For me, Fruit & Nut Bites are gelled nothingness. I need more. Oh, 21st century. What the hell was that?

"But You Need The Rain," He Says. "How Else Will You Get the FWOWERS?"

Typically on a Tuesday morning, I drink my coffee and head to the streets for a long run. Why? Because I'm on campus until late at night.

Today, however, I'm likely to head indoors to the gym for my run because it looks like a total wash.

That is the way of water. It must fall, so it can move upon land to reach streams, rivers, lakes and oceans, only to be evaporated and recycled again.

Woot Woot! To the clouds.

I'm channeling all this because my graduate students read a little Moje in Smagorinsky's Content Area Literacy text and, tapping my environmental days, I am doing a mini-literacy project in the sciences to make the case for reading, writing, speaking, and thinking across the disciplines.

Let it rain. It will prove my case.

And, speaking of cycles (as the work-week is definitely a cycle), this week is pre-NCTE departure week and the stress, organizing, worry, and answering questions has circled my way once again. In January propose. In June, hear if accepted. In September, work with collaborators locally and nationally on conference sessions. In November, rampantly put the ideas into place. Then present.
Repeat in January.

It is amazing to predict where one's thinking will be so many months in advance, but it is always wonderful once at the conference location - so many wonder NCTE people in one location discussing literacy. Then, we'll evaporate back into the clouds until January when our first drops will trickle back down.

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. - repeat. 1.2.3.4.5. - repeat.

Okay, Monday. Let Me Tell You About My Sunday. Fall Cleaning Like Its Spring

I wake up on Sunday mornings always wishing I did more on Friday night and Saturday, knowing that I will regret whatever I didn't accomplish during a new work week. Even so, I am good about taking care of myself and this meant running six miles in the sun and blue skies, even when it was cold. This led, too, to the winterizing of the outdoors, putting all the tables in the shed, putting the snowblower in the garage, and mowing the lawn (to get rid of the pesky leaves).

In between, I graded, and graded, and graded.

I was thankful for the sauce I made yesterday and although I turned down an invitation to eat stew (I really wanted to go), I felt like I got most of what I wanted done...well, done.

Now it's Monday morning and the workweek marathon (okay, sprint) takes off. Everything needs to be accomplished before my plain leaves on Thursday and after I teach two important classes so that my students are ready for final projects.

I do know about Spring cleaning, but there's a thing called Fall winterizing that is equally as important. The lawn ornaments are now stored, the chairs piled up and put away, and the hoses away from the house so they won't freeze. I also finished half the gutters, cleaning out the last six months of debris. I guess I'm thankful that I don't have a pull to close up for the colder months.

And, I ordered the urban turkey kit once again so I am ready for the brining to come next week for Thanksgiving at my house. My Sunday night talk with Chitunga was cut short because I was in energizer bunny mode, but I left with telling him that I am living for his return for gravy and stuffing

In truth, though, I think I like to run when in layers. It won't be long before I'm totally in the gym until it all thaws.

Wish I Could Claim His Culinary Talents. Nope. This Kid Was Destined For Greatness

As soon as I saw Brownies dining at Nam Huynh's new Vietnamese restaurant, Eatz, in Louisville, Kentucky, I had to contact my Louisville Mom Sue. I sent the address and said, "One of my awesome kids from my teaching days has opened a Vietnamese restaurant and you must get there as soon as possible. It took her 48 hours. She and Dave at their last night and I was sent this photo. Nam looks exactly the same, but older, wiser, happier, and more mature. I am so proud to know that he has taken his culinary talents and used them to make his American dreams a reality. He's been getting great acclaim since high school as a sushi chef and entrepreneur. If the Queen of the Spring Roll, Sue, approves, than I'm sure he will have a loyal customer for quite a while.

Meanwhile, in my own kitchen, I was channeling Syracuse Sue, my Mom, and my dad, Butch. I wanted their spaghetti, so I went to the store and came home to get my hands all gooey. In total, I made 28 meatballs and they came out as good as I remembered them.

Of course, I didn't make spaghetti to go with them - opted for a meatball sub, instead - but I can say that they came out great. I only make them once a year, because it really is repulsive to mix the hot sausage, beef, eggs, spices, bread crumbs, onions, and milk. It's a little to Zombie-esque and you can't touch anything while your mixing and rolling.

Ah, but I have food for the week - at least until I leave for Houston on Thursday. I also froze a bag so I can have them on a cold, snowy night when I need such comfort food.

Speaking of Houston, I think I have all six presentations ready to go and I am thrilled to have a fantastic team of colleagues and teachers coming with me. It is remarkable to see how far the work has come in the last 5 years since we redesigned our writing project initiatives. It has become Scholarship in Action, just like I learned from Nancy Cantor when she was President of Syracuse University and I was earning my doctorate.

Cheers. I hope you have something good to eat today!

Friday Scarf Fleek in Canisius Hall. Kicking Off a Weekend in Style.

Not too much action on campus on a Friday, except academics trying to stay on top of their game and freshman who take classes all the way through the last block of time before the campus shuts down for the weekend. I was in my office trying to find a way out for the weekend when Akbaru arrived to say hello as he headed from his late Friday class to his last one. We had just enough time to take a picture while I headed off campus and he went to his final class for the week.

I simply wanted one thing - to get home to watch the Syracuse/Louisville football game (and with Syracuse playing awesome and Louisville still resolving its Rick Pitino tragedy, it wasn't much of a game).

Chitunga, who went to the game with friends, texted, "What happened to Louisville?" I said, "The bad ethics finally caught up with them."

Seriously, it's sad to see that other sports programs also seem to be taking the hit for the scandalous behavior of a few. I wish I could say it was a one-time deal for the campus, but they have had their share of not-so-good leaders using their leadership to do sketchy work. I love my CARDS and want to believe in the integrity of their programs, but their hubris finally caught up with them, and Syracuse...well, Syracuse deserves the success they're having. It's been awhile.

Okay, Saturday and Sunday. This is for us. There's a lot to accomplish in the next couple of days as we prepare for Houston and a weekend away.

I left the campus portion of my week with a smile, however, seeing the Rabbit with a smile before hopping in the Frog-mobile and revving up for weekend work. 

It's Trivial - Thursday Into Friday When You Know The Weekend Ahead Is Nose To the Grind

When you are heading into the weekend, knowing that it needs to be conference-focus ahead, one quickly takes an invitation for Trivia Night at a local Irish club to heart...

...dinner....really bad knowledge...and the opportunity not to place anywhere near the top three because you don't know that Emma Thompson was recently given Duchess status for her theatrical talents and you think that Lake Heron is the only one that doesn't line with Canada. You are wrong.

You do know the characters of Gilligan's Island but not what Betty White has produced as an aging actress. Still, you try, and you eat french fries and take the night off.

It's Friday. I need to hibernate in my office today (possibly tomorrow and Saturday, too) to get on top of reports you missed during the week and what needs to be accomplished for next week.

It's all a blur.

I am still trying to catch up from summer 2018, while getting ready for summer 2019. I can't make sense of what needs to be accomplished right now.

I will say, however, it's Friday. That counts the most. I will get runs in and lots of time to do work (without the inevitable, but non-functional work of committees). Bring on the serenity of the weekend.

The @TheEllenShow School Proposal - That Was A First...Learning For Joy, Optimism & Hope

I knew today's course was going to be interesting, especially when I had my undergraduates design their own schools. They had to work in small groups, come to compromise, find a name, and lay out the curriculum and belief systems.

As I wandered around wondering what the students would discuss, I came across three who were wrestling with the mission of the school: one where kids wanted to be there, to feel special, to appreciate diversity and creativity, and to have pep in their every day step. I asked them to think about a word or inspiration that their school could be named after.

30 minutes later I came back to them and they had the name: The Degeneres School - a location for individualized learning, a love for youth, and an appreciation for happiness. They chose to name their school after Ellen Degeneres!

I immediately thought about playing music between classes and how the requirement could be that students have to dance their way from class to class.

There were numerous creations for an ideal school but this one caught my attention. I don't get the fortune of watching the Ellen Show often, but when I do, it is always fun, informative, happy, and 100% American. I always love it. She brings laughter and happiness to a sometimes dark, and misery-driven world (and for that I am appreciative).

So, if ever given the opportunity, I'd totally be willing to collaborate with anyone on creating a Degeneres School. Trust me, research shows that it is really needed - now more than ever. I know exactly the mission I'd build, sparked from these wonderful undergraduates and perhaps one day I'll find a way to make it happen.

Super-diversity - a choice of LOVE over hate - creativity - humor - and hard work. That is a mission to emulate everywhere.

And how awesome would it be to have an Ellen Dengeneres-like teacher in every classroom! Now I'm really dreaming!

Building a Perfect School Today - Well, Not Me. My Students. I Have My Perfect School In My Heart

In Philosophy of Education in Action, David W. Nicholson' concludes with the request of early thinkers to design the perfect school given the potential purposes for what schools should be about:

• To learn objective, universal knowledge, or 
• To learn subjective, changing knowledge, 

From there we talked about ideals, essentials, natural development, feelings, imagination, community, action, and individual freedom.

I can't help but reflect on my teaching at the J. Graham Brown School in Louisville, Kentucky as I read the possibilities for education as philosophers have explored them throughout history. I will be curious to what my students design today for the perfect school. It's harder for me, because I taught at the perfect school, but it was also at a time when when the state had close-to-perfect writing expectations, and I had an almost perfect (okay, I'll give him perfect) principal. It was heaven to have a decade in those circumstances.

Then retirements happened. Bad hires occurred. The state began to come after the curriculum. I realized I would die if I stayed. Why? I saw what was coming at kids and teachers and it was heartbreaking. I wouldn't be able to work in a location that didn't have the best interest of kids and teachers in mind.

My perfect school would be inquiry-based, high expectations, super-diverse, and arts-based. Most of what I experienced at the Brown would be part of the school's mission. Some things I might change is to have students more central in maintenance of the school, but also given more voice in curriculum matters. I'd love to have flexibility in curricular design, without the top-down mandate of how it should be taught from district "experts."

I'm holding out on the specifics of my perfect school, because I want to see what the students will bring forward.

But, again. I go back to what I had at the Brown when the Brown was supported to be the Brown. Those were ideal times and I hold them dear to my heart.

Existential Cream Cheese For Philosophical Cinnamon Rolls - An Election Day Post

Truth is, the truth is, and that truth is what you think it is.

I just read the readings I assigned for Philosophy of Education (the last chapter of Philosophy of Education in Action) and it moved from Friere to Buber to Kierkegaard to Noddings to Greene really quick, with a lot of emphasis on existentialism.

Who am I in relation to the truth I create for myself? What does any of it matter in relation to one's existence and purpose? Then there's that education thing. Why should any of us care?

I was thinking about this when I opened a new hair product, a dipping doo diggity wallop that strikingly reminded me of the frosting I used to get caked on Cindy's Cinnamon Rolls (I miss them so much). I used to purchase these delectable pastries when I could afford them (the last 10 minutes of Mall hours when they sold what they had left for 50% off).
Is there anything better than a a well done cinnamon roll? I don't think so.

I exist because I once ate such delicacies. I exist because I have a paste to make my hair look like Kramer from Seinfeld. I exist, because after reading and prepping for a class on existential contributions to K-12 schooling (um, I don't see too much recognition of existence or reasons for existing in most of the schools I visit - just robotic boredom and apathetic misery). But I exist, as they exist. We exist together.

Then there's an election. I exist, therefore I have an opinion, but they exist, and they have an opinion, too. I'm afraid of postmodern subjectivities and reality television thinking as it exists on CNN and Fox. Results will come in and we will all still be existing.

Truth is non-truth. Non-truth is truth. All we are is dust in the wind.

And I'm thinking about the humanity of it all. Why would I put cream cheese in my hair? Is it vanity? Is it insanity? Is it postmodern play? Is it MAN-o-pause? Am I a particle man, particle man?

Actually, I'm thinking of two movies: I Heart Huckabees and Waking Life. Both are early millennial movies at the turn of the century and (for the most part) place existential crisis in Western White Masculine terms (which is humorous and problematic and enlightening and right and wrong). These films, as well as the profound silliness of this post will be on my mind for the next 24 hours as I try to find a way to make students (who tend to be from traditional Catholic schooling institutions) contemplate the esoteric and intellectual Basquiat-painting of existentialism.

But I am so, so, so craving a cinnamon roll. Should be an interesting class this week. And should be an interesting night of news, for better or for worse. We will still have to exist within it all.

Processing a Metaphor for Subversive Teaching - The Underground Railroad

I've always seen teaching as bringing the light to dark places in hopes of showing young people alternative paths to their success and a way to get through difficult obstacles that stand in their way. It is my belief that young people respond to the light and follow it when they know the intentions will best serve their personal interests.

Yesterday, two of my favorite educators stopped by to catch me up on their school year and to celebrate the phenomenal work they do with CWP-Fairfield in the summer and how the work is carried forward to their academic school year. They've made great connections with kids, word has spread, and colleagues are interested in what they are accomplishing.

"It feels like we're leading an underground railroad," one said. "It's like the institution itself is designed to keep the kids from learning, from growing, from succeeding, and believing. We're trying to show them a better way."

When I probed further, they described the professional development they receive at their schools, the inundation of more and more tests, and the administrative eye scolding them for reaching kids and not focusing 100% of their attention on the actual tests that are measuring the school."

"The underground railroad," he explained, "is getting kids to read, to write, to take chances and to speak in a way that is working. It is, however, in total contradiction with how our schools are requiring us to do so."

I wanted more.

"The test-only push, the mandate of reading and writing requirements that are totally disconnected from the lives our students are living makes them hate school. In fact, they feel that such an environment makes the school a place that is not safe. As kids come to us, we give them books, we ask them to share their stories, we encourage them to speak out. They work for us, but are totally disillusioned with how they are treated in most classrooms."

The metaphor of the underground railroad caught my ear. They are reporting on kids who want to do well, who are there to play the game, but who are totally recognizing that the schooling institution is there to hinder their achievement. What is a light, however, is the introduction of reading, writing, speaking, and action that is not on the larger institution's agenda.

What I've learned from 24 years of teaching is that the best guides to helping students to achieve come from listening to youth and what they report. These teachers work in schools with all the deficit labels that come from state and national testing, yet they have students who want to work hard, to read, to write, and to take action. The curriculum of the school, they report, is impeding their learning. These are locations where teachers are reporting almost half the year is taken over by tests testing kids to get benchmarks so that teachers can better understand what needs to be done before the 'real' tests arrive. Meanwhile, while this testing is occurring, reading, writing and action are not occurring.

They feel like they are leading an underground railroad, because they are achieving behind the scenes, underneath the radar, and beyond the administrators who oversee them, through finding literacy instruction that works with the young people coming to them with goals for a college education and a successful life.

Strange. This should be the purpose of all schools, yet teachers need to be subversive with the actual instruction that works.

"It's coming from after school programs, free periods, and weekend. This is where we can actually teach the kids and they're thirsty for it."

If this is the case, then how do we find a way to communicate this in a way that actual administrators and politicians will actually listen? Perhaps I'm too much a socio-constructivist, but I've always found more fault in the systems and institutions that put the deficits on the kids when, in actuality, the real problem is in how they are viewing what kids know, can do, and should prove they know.

Currently, it's a measurement that is not capturing truth. I'm now seeking more lanterns to help these teachers guide the young people they say are coming towards them more and more looking for help. They want to achieve, but the top-down management is making them failures. It is so crazy.

Well, Yes. I Guess You Can Say You Saw a Crandall Imprint In Another School

Yesterday, a kid from Central High School texted me to ask, "Do you ever do work at Bassick?" He sent me these photos and told me he was taking his SATs and was sitting next to bookshelves with Home of the Brave, The Arrival, We Were Here, The Crossover, & POW!.

I recognized the shelf and simply replied, "Why, yes. I've worked often with Bassick High School and, in fact, I've worked with that school more than any other in Connecticut.

I laughed to know that a kid could see the Crandall imprint in another building and recognize it as familiar to his experiences in CWP summer programs. Actually, he was in William King's ESL classroom and on the shelves are the heart and pulse of Ubuntu Academy for the last five years.

He felt comfortable taking his college entrance exam there, but also wanted to bypass the test and simply read all the books that were lining the shelf.

I'm already thinking about the summer programs in 2019 and what new books I can purchase to get in the hands of Mr. King's students, not only in the summer but during the academic year, too.

In a week, William, Jessica, Ryan, Jayne, Mindy, Kim, Rebecca, Shaun, Dave and Rich, in fact, will be flying to Houston, Texas to present on the ways we are building writing communities in southern Connecticut.

Yesterday, too, Fairfield University shared a video featuring Aidas and Vilia with their trip to Zimbabwe, where CWP-Fairfield brought over many of Kwame Alexander's books and I'm guessing that there's a place in that country where similar bookshelves are lined with such books. If only I could build libraries in every classroom and every school of the books I know that will personally resonate with students.

I'd do that work full time because it is the work I absolutely love.

Today is @TeamVickiSoto - One of My Favorite 5Ks of the Year (A Cause I Believe In)

I continue to shake my head reflecting on December 14, 2012 when suddenly Connecticut was on all the news and those of us who are educators began to shake our heads in sadness, frustration, sorrow, and disbelief. My instinct was to reach out to the National Writing Project community and, without fail, we raised enough money to do a book release of Trina Paulus's Hope For the Flowers throughout schools, synagogues, churches, community centers, and doctor's offices around the region. I'd soon read more and more about Vicki Soto, her graduation from Stratford Public Schools (the same town where I live), and her family's dedication to keep her memory and spirit alive: pink flamingos and Live, Love, Laugh.

Last year, I had to miss the 5K because I was at a national conference, but this year I arranged a small Fairfield University team who will be represented in the race, rain or shine. We will run for teachers, educators and the power of love in our K-12 schools.

I even bought a pair of flamingo socks that I've been saving for the run and I will wear them rain or shine.

Somewhere in my files, I have an article I wrote about everything ever published about literacy and the prevalence of gun violence in our nation. I collected every piece I could find written by English educators, administrators and young people about such tragedies. I closed that writing into a folder hoping that such events would not continue (it was written for English educators like me to have a way to respond in times of such terrible loss).

I believe I need to open that folder again. I'm always attempting to be the optimist and hopeful, so writing about such darkness made me fearful and angry. I am realizing, however, that looking at this darkness is the only way to bring forward more light.

Today, as always, the 5K will bring tremendous light to Short Beach as 4,000 runners sweat in honor of a young woman's legacy. It will begin and end with a gigantic American flag and along the route there will be marching bands, cheerleaders, crowds, and celebration.

This is the nation I believe in. This is why it's one of my favorite events of the year.

Actual Footage Of Me Trying To Keep Up With the Crazy - Not Doing a Good Job

Up at 6 a.m. and immediately getting into emails when I receive two that name two reports are due last night by midnight. I tried.

I failed.

I got extensions.

I am feeling the fact that I no longer have an administrative assistant and I can't keep up. I love writing grants and am more thrilled when I get them. These grants, however, require data collection and submissions, which means I need the cooperation of the University, as well as support staff to make it all happen. Of course, this year the University went to a new accounting system, Workday, and we're still trying to get people and companies paid for July and August work. It's been insane.

I want to do my part and be able to get my reports done on time and professionally, but I also teach, do professional development in K-12 schools, and am planning for National conferences where I'm bringing 9 teacher leaders with me.

Don't get me started on deadlines for publication.

I remember when doing my doctorate, my cohorts in crime used to say, "We're spinning the plates as fast as we can while roller skating on ice and having rocks thrown at our head."

That's where I am this Friday morning. It will get done, but I am feeling like someone needs to make a meme of a man being buried under such rocks.

I get salvation, I suppose, because so many of my National Writing Project colleagues are doing the same - we're not only employees of the University, but we're responsible to the K-12 schools surrounding our institutions that includes their administrators, their bureaucracies, their youth communities, and their families. Those worlds don't necessarily jive well with he University world (even though both worlds are expecting more and more from their workers with less and less provided to them in support).

It will definitely be a laptop kind of weekend. Thankful for a 5K run tomorrow morning, though.

Otherwise, it's the image above. Non-stop from sunrise to sundown (and then some).

Well, Hello, Golden-Crowned Kinglet. Glad To Be Introduced to You in Stratford

After working with 8th graders, I came home to prepare for trick or treaters, but knew I wanted to take Glamis on a long hike. It was unseasonably warm and the air was wonderful: crisp, fresh, and rejuvenating. Glamis and I got about a mile out when I thought a pinecone fell on my shoulder, but it was actually a bird with a yellow crown - a tiny little guy that I could curl into my palm if I wanted to - who bounced off of me and onto the dog.

If it wasn't a pinecone, I thought it was a bouncing ball. Nope, it was a bird.

The fellow then bobbled to the ground and begin scrounging for food. Glamis, curious as I was, stuck her nose down to sniff the feathered wonder and that lil' booger turned its head and sniffed Glamis's snout. Glamis licked it and then the bird when back to looking for insects. I thought, "it must be hurt, or maybe it has something mentally wrong with it."

Nope. He seemed content.

I came home to look into my Bird books (miss my Louisville Nature Center days) and identified the yellow capped nugget as a Golden-Crowned Kinglet. It's the first I've ever seen, and although their mating season is in Canada, they settle all over the northern United States during the winter. I guess he found his way to Stratford.

What cracked me up as I tried to be sure I had the right bird were the number of photos from others who captured the same. The bird landed on glasses of wine when sitting out back, they landed on hands and seemed to like to be stroked and cuddled, they even cuddled with other dogs. I'm guessing the friendliness is part of its species - if only more humans could learn from such jolly amiability.

It made my day, and was a great way to get over the hump.

And look at that! It's November.

You Boo, Too - Ubuntu: Welcoming 8th Graders to @FairfieldU This Halloween

I'm feeling haunted. Actually, I did my job this weekend to prepare for middle schoolers to be on campus all day to work with my undergraduate students (and because it's Halloween, I went with the theme of YOU BOO, TOO! a pun on Ubuntu and the literacy community we've been trying to create with the school for the last few years.

That is the plan and fingers crossed it goes forward.

Last night, after returning from a graduate course, I went into panic mode. Why? Well, my computer crashed at the beginning of class and I had two think on my feet to be non-technological to advance the night's objectives with NO PRESENTATION to give.

Lucky, I got that going again.

When I came home, I was finalizing this morning workshop when the computer crashed again! It was down for 60 minutes and I thought, "Oh, No. This is the end."

Technology is scary. We're so reliant on it.

So, this Halloween, I'm praying for 24 hours so I can walk my machine to ITS and actually say, "That email I sent? I was serious. I can't live this way any longer.

Still, I'm excited about YOU BOO, TOO. The middle schoolers have been reading The Outsiders and Ghost so this will be a fun writing day of collaborating, philosophizing, and enjoying Fairfield University together. Oh, lord.

I just want to have a no-brainer night of handing out candy.

Hey, Baby! What's Your Sign? Getting Metacognitive About Lesson Planning with Grad Students

We're approaching the last few miles of the semester (and having taught a content area literacy class for 7 years, I can predict the obstacles that stand in the way of pre-service teachers for designing lesson plans with the intent of best practices in literacy instruction).

They have the knowledge. They have the models. They have the interviews. They have their lived experiences. What they don't have, however, is a lot of experience with the lesson plan genre, especially with pacing out a lesson with students (and this is before announcements, interruptions, bathroom passes, lost homework, parental calls, and coffee spilling all over the plans).

I've become more and more strategic in my backwards planning so that the final product is much more beneficial to them and their student teaching (now in the era of EdTPA). Each year, I'm able to pull parts of the final project into earlier work so that they are building a foundation for their learning:  first with interviewing adolescents, 2nd with genre analysis of a reading, writing, creating, or speaking experience in their field, and tonight - Crandall's model lesson: one to be deconstructed after it occurs.

I have science, math, Spanish, Italian, English, elementary, and History in-practice and pre-service teachers in the class. The reading from Smagorinsky's Content-Area Literacy describes a shift to semiotics and teaching the deconstruction of how words signify.

Signs. Signs. Everywhere there's signs.

I had to get humorous, so am doing a lesson on the validity of Zodiac signs. I found 3 NY Times articles, one we will read together, one they will read in small groups, and 1 they will read solo. We will implement a strategy from Beers & Probst Reading NonFiction. Then, after the instruction, I will hand them a EdTPA lesson plan template where I filled out all the parts with the lesson.

It's a lesson on teaching a lesson on preparing a lesson for the EdTPA lesson plan forma (while hitting instructional practices we read from the research this semester).

Dang. I am thinking about their thinking about the other's thinking, so that I can prepare their thinking in preparation of the future thinking that will happen in their classrooms.

If I was a Warners Bros. cartoon, my eyes would be hanging by my feet, with my brain spinning underneath coo-coo birds.

That's what's happening tonight in my neck of the woods. What about you?

"Hakuna Budd-dha-dha" - All Credit to Dave Wooley For Naming the Phenomena

Over the weekend, there was a brief exchange with my friends Dave Wooley and Kris Sealy about revisiting our youth and what we used to be like in relation to being an adult and what life is like right now. I asked Kris for a philosophical phrase for when one is provided with youthful choices after one has advanced one's self through being young and finding a way into adulthood.

I explained that my love of Herman Hesse's Siddhartha has taken on new meaning as I work with kids who were once the age I was, who do what I once did, but who have no awareness for the youthfulness of their ways.

Here, I'm referring to the period of time when I chose to go out to the night scene at 11 p.m. - socializing with friends, bars, dance floors, booze, and flirting - only to return as the adults in my life were getting ready for work.

I did that, but put an end to it in my first year of teaching because I couldn't go out all night and function in the classroom. It no longer worked.

I explained to them that I now have new understanding for when Siddhartha found the true meaning of Om, knowing that his son wanted to separate from him and to be independently on his own journey. This is not the case of Chitunga...but will be...but with other kids who are totally enraptured by the early to mid-twenties.

Dave's advice, "Hakuna Budd-dha-dha." It was brilliant. The om is found through a total understanding of life cycles and routines that help us to develop at each age, despite the craziness of what those experiences actually offer us. One choice is to be overly adult and be like, "That's dumb...when I was your age, I...."

I recalled my early 20s when I was home in Syracuse and simply went out all night, totally oblivious to my parent's routine. Years later I asked and they responded, "We were too tired. We just went to sleep and hoped you'd be okay."

That's what I did this weekend. I simply went to bed, fell asleep, and didn't worry.

Hakuna Budd-dha-dha. Finding no worries by simply tapping the inner Buddha to find the serenity in the way life develops us all. I loved it.

Shaw wrote, "Youth is wasted on the young." I'd argue that youth is necessary to give us perspective as we age.

Yes, in my 30s I discovered the joy of being home, under a blanket, reading a book and finding calm within my own house. In my 20s, I went for the excitement, because it was exciting, until I realized it was pointless and absolutely stupid. I would never had known that had I not experienced it and grew out of it.

I would never want that age to return either. So, I learned Hakuna Budd-dha-dha this weekend and I'm good with that.

Adulting is difficult, but I much prefer it. Period.