In Which Daisy’s Green Thumb Turns Brown

It was a gift – a gift from a generous and appreciative parent of a student. It’s a nice plant, supposedly one of the impossible to kill varieties. You guessed it, readers. I’m good at growing outdoors, but indoor plants tend to fade on me – fade to brown, not black. This one started looking really sad on its cubicle shelf, so I brought it home for some TLC.

This is embarrassing.

This is embarrassing.

It didn’t take long. A good watering, a little time with real sunshine, and there is recovery in the air – er, in the pot.

Now that's better.

Now that’s better.

The tiny tomato seedlings weren’t so lucky. Transplant shock plus a sudden transition to outdoors and the Romas and and a few Beefsteaks choked. I guess I’ll be a customer at the Memorial Gardens’ heirloom variety sale again.

RIP, tomatoes.

RIP, tomatoes. We hardly knew ye.

The pepper plants still look good. We’ll have a good variety of peppers, sweet and spicy, come September.

Peppers!

Peppers!

The scallions, on the other hand, have never really picked up. They are thin as embroidery thread and starting to lie down in their dirt.

Scallions - not stallions

Scallions – not stallions

I guess I should stick with what works – and that’s the wild walking onion crop that is already going strong.

These onions were made for walking!

These onions were made for walking!

As for the rest, it will wait until I’m a little more certain that spring is really here.

 

 

 

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Creative Cookies

We call it the Clounge or the coffee closet. It’s a storage closet in the school offices, a narrow closet that houses spare books and curriculum resources and the huge lock boxes that keep our state tests secure. On the other side we have a long, narrow table and small cabinet that support two microwaves, a toaster, and the coffeepot. Closet + Lounge gives us Clounge, and coffee closet is self-explanatory.

This Clounge is narrow – narrow enough that only one person can stand in between the table and storage shelves. At lunch time, there’s a lot of “Excuse me. Can I get past you to the water cooler? The refrigerator? Or maybe could you just hand me my yogurt?” as we maneuver around to get what we need.

But once in a while, someone brings in a treat. This one came from a long-term substitute to say Thanks on her last day with us.

Cute, aren't they?

Cute, aren’t they?

We had some fun discussions, trying to figure out who ate the head from the turtle but left its shell, wondering why everyone left the smilies for last. One thing was simple; that frog was calling my name. It was great with coffee.

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From The Home Office in Daisy’s House

It started as a bedroom – La Petite’s bedroom. Then she grew up. And moved out. And stayed moved out. We’re still crossing our fingers. 

Then we cleaned and de-cluttered and rearranged. At the present time, Amigo’s bean bag chairs sit on the bed out of reach of bunny teeth. For my laptop, we found a new-to-me writing desk that’s perfect for a laptop like mine.

Pretty, isn't it?

Pretty, isn’t it?

Chuck found it at an antique mall and managed to bargain the price down a bit. It’s lovely, sturdy, and fits the character of the house nicely. Then we looked inside.

Inkwell?

Inkwell?

It was probably an inkwell when the desk was built. The writer’s bottle of ink would have settled into its home in the drawer to avoid spilling. Well, avoid spilling most of the time.

Ink - well.

Ink – well.

It’s all good. I’ll probably use the little spot for paper clips or jump drives. Works for me! Next:

  • bulletin board or other means of displaying necessary info nearby
  • file cabinet or equivalent
  • desk chair

I believe we have potential for finding all three of these in the basement. The basement, that is, that is still home to huge piles that Chuck made to allow the plumbers in last fall. Too bad I can’t just wave a wand and say “Accio Desk Chair!” In the meantime, I’ll move my muggle self to the piles and start sorting. My new home office awaits.

 

 

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One Child a Year – an encore

I checked my email and online grade book on Sunday night (What? Sunday? Doesn’t every teacher work Sundays?) and got excited in a way that other teachers will understand. One of my (ahem) high maintenance students had a tech problem, so I called him to help. It’s not as easy as you might think; this student attends our virtual school and a religious school. The only time I can phone his family is after school hours on Friday. Well, it worked. I walked him through the process of getting into the site and finding the documents he needed, and he did it. Just don’t tell any taxpayers I worked overtime for free; they’ll never understand.

Here’s the encore that came to mind. Originally posted in 2008, it needs little or no revision to be current. Enjoy.

Beginning teachers want to change the world, put their hearts into their work, matter to someone, somehow. I have come to realize that there are limits, big limits, to the good I do through my teaching. And when it comes down to changing a life, having an impact on a child’s future, a wise co-worker told me to expect to make a difference once a year. One child a year.
At first it sounds callous, minimizing. Realize, however, that we’re not talking about everyday teaching. I teach the entire class to read, to write, to handle long division. But a life-changing impact? A difference that changes the route students will take, puts them on a path to success — or not — doesn’t happen nearly as often as idealists think.
Now, in my eighteenth year of teaching, I wonder who those children are and were. I may never know. A few may touch base with me again. Most won’t or can’t. Many don’t even realize that a teacher, any teacher, turned them around and set them in the right direction.
The victim of bullying who learned to take control might join the list. Then there’s the slacker with a high IQ who earned his first D or F and finally learned study skills. The late bloomer who discovered her favorite book ever on my shelves and realized she loved to read may feel that link as well. But those are the easy ones.
The child whose family was evicted from their apartment, the family I helped find services for the homeless, won’t ever know that I made a difference. Her parents are too busy keeping a roof over their heads and feeding the kids to think about teachers, and that’s exactly where their priorities belong. The depressed adolescents that I referred for help? The counselor made a bigger difference than I did, and again that’s just as it should be. The student who struggled with math and finally, finally “got” fractions under my watch, may be the one child for that year. Or not. It might have been the quiet student, the one who sat in the back and listened intently, absorbing everything he heard, but never saying a word.
So I keep on plugging, planning for class, differentiating for those who need it, and hoping. I hope as well that maybe, just maybe, I made a difference for someone, somehow, each year.

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As seen around the Interwebs

The majority of these conversation starters turn up on Facebook or Plurk. If it makes me laugh out loud, it’s good. If it makes me think, it’s even better.

delicious

delicious

I’m growing a few of these. Rosemary, Dill, Sage, Basil, Oregano, Thyme, and unintentionally, mint. Believe me, the mint is tenacious. The others are either in my spice cabinet or could get there on my next trip to Penzey’s.

Ah, yes, the quotable unquote.

Ah, yes, the quotable unquote.

My fair state’s standardized tests will be changing dramatically in 2014. I’ll reserve judgment until I see how well the new creation assesses my students.

living art frame

living art frame

Meanwhile, I’ll resist signing up for Pinterest. I might find something like the living art frame above. And if I find the directions, I might feel like I really need one. Or two. Resist, Daisy, resist!

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Re-calibrating

Life changes all too quickly, it seems. Amigo moved home from his training program early and unexpectedly. Now we are searching for other training opportunities so he can enter the working world and be a productive young adult. We have a few leads, and the whole family is re-calibrating and setting forth on a new route.

Teaching in Wisconsin is insecure at best. In the current political climate, none of us are certain if or where we’ll be teaching in the near future, much less the long term. Talks at the lunch table and coffeepot reflect this.

On one hand, I continue to seek out opportunities to teach summer school. I attended an online meeting Friday that explained a lot of the ins and outs and details of teaching online summer school. La Petite, if I get hired, your old room converts totally to office space.

On another hand, a coworker suggested I sign up to review books written for young readers. Every time I review, we get a set of books free. As I submitted my first review, I noticed a check box on the form asking “Are you interested in writing children’s books?” I checked yes. The response was “Please call!” with a phone number.

But on the other hand (teachers have many hands), the latest virus (human, not computer) caused a persistent cough that led to laryngitis.

Re-calibrating! I sent a return email saying I’d call as soon as I could speak and included a potential project idea. At the very least, it will be fun. Even if it’s only a few bucks, the exposure will be priceless.

 

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Signs of Home

You might be in my home if you see a pile of shoes and an overflowing bookshelf. There will be a laptop computer nearby, too. The refrigerator contains several jars of home-canned goodies such as pickles and jams and applesauce and… I’m hungry.

Any place Amigo lives, a singing fish is likely to follow.

In a corner of La Petite’s apartment —

Bitty Bear is a traveler!

Note: since I took this picture, La Petite stenciled birds on the wall in the corner. It’s lovely. The ballooning bear must be very content. 

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Teachers & Skills

It was one of the average days at the lunch table and an average teacher conversation these days – what to do if we get laid off, our salaries go down, the governor gets his way, or all of the above. It was the kind of day when we reflected on our own capabilities and wondered aloud where our futures might lead.

One of the more productive discussions came about through mention of LinkedIn. Many of us have LinkedIn accounts, but few of us are actively using the site. This discussion led (all discussions lead somewhere until we turn at the fork in the road) to skills and resumes.

Teachers, we realized, develop many professional skills beyond classroom teaching. Heck, we virtual teachers learned new ways of delivering instruction as soon as we stepped in the door. When I opened my LinkedIn account and started to check off skills, I was pleasantly surprised. As we sat around the table and listed each other’s strengths, we started feeling more confident and even a little calmer.

Time management. Prioritizing. Meeting deadlines. Learning new software and doing it quickly. Organization. Keeping records. Analyzing. Reading. Writing. Making coffee. Okay, I slipped that one in just for fun.

The point, if our lunch table group had a point, was that we are skilled professionals. We’re not “just” teachers. We teach and we do much more. If public education goes south in a handbasket, each one of us will find a way to make a living, pay the bills, and feed the family.

And if public education crashes and burns under stupid state programs, er, ineffective policies, the children of today and tomorrow will suffer. And that, my friends, is the real loss.

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Personalizing the Cube

Teachers in brick and mortar schools, the standard classrooms with four walls and a ceiling, decorate for their students. Posters, bulletin boards, themes, student work – you name it, it’s on the walls. A classroom becomes by design a very welcoming place.

I teach from a cubicle. Decorating the cube is a little different. First, I organize my electronics for easiest access and maximum comfort. If I can reach the phone and the computer with ease, I’m ready to work. Next, I arrange basic teaching files, both electronic and paper, so I can reach both copies of my lessons without leaving my chair.

But welcoming – I do need to come into my cube and have the comforts of a home-away-from home around me. Chuck would call this a Cubicle Survival Kit. You’ve seen the fingerless gloves I keep in one drawer. Here are a few other components in the survival kit.

Plant life and flowers

Plant life and flowers

The flowers were from Chuck on Valentine’s Day. They beautified my bookshelf for almost two weeks. The plant on the left was a gift from a family grateful for my extra time and efforts.

On the top shelf, you can catch a glimpse of a few other survival tools: a Rubic’s cube, a cube-shaped trivia game, and on the right, my mantra of “Keep Calm and Garden On.”

I voted!

I voted!

My cane graces the cubicle with its lovely green color and the sticker from last month’s primary election.

Mail for me?

Mail for me?

And finally, how can a cubicle be less than happy when the mail regularly arrives sporting stickers?

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Franken-vouchers

She couldn’t stay quiet for long. Grandma Daisy is back, less than a week after the annual budget talk by so-called Governor Walker.

Fiddle-dee-dee. Tomorrow will be another day.

As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly!

Big Brother is watching.  

All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.

Wilbur didn’t want food, he wanted love.

I have created a monster!

 

Well, grandkids, all of these are lines from classic books. Let’s see how many you or your mother can identify. What? So few? What are they teaching these days — never mind.

Let’s look at the last one. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein,  of course. Truth be told, though, young ones, this particular quote isn’t a direct quote from the novel. It’s kind of like crediting  Buzz Lightyear with “To infinity and beyond!” when he only said it twice in the first Toy Story movie.

The truth is that Shelley’s work inspired the phrase.  An English teacher I knew (they’re always handy when you need a good literature quote) mentioned that there is no exact quote in which Dr. Frankenstein says or another character says that he/you have created a monster–it’s more of a thematic draw from the overall text. Frankenstein warns the man who meets him at the end of his life how “dangerous is the acquisition of knowledge,” as a way of saying, “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should!” in keeping with the “created a monster” idea.

So, young ones, back to the budget. Governor Talks-a-lot claimed to have innovative changes for our fair state’s education system. His changes consisted of a straining-at-the-seams budget for public schools and a significant increase in a program called Vouchers. Vouchers were grants, money, scholarships paid by the state for students to attend private schools. Private. Not public charters, not home-schooling, but private schools. Governor Walk-on-by ignored the evidence that current voucher schools in Milwaukee were not doing any better then their public counterparts down the road. In fact, if they measured success by the standardized tests of the day, voucher schools did a poorer job of educating their students.

Governor Walk-all-over-you decided that his “innovative education reform” would expand the voucher program into other middling to large-ish cities. Make it bigger. Spread the money around. Around the state, that is. One city, one school district at a time.

The Governor, despite his lack of scientific or educational background, had created a monster. He wanted to open up the private vouchers, damage the state’s education budget, and further gut public schools.

Governor Walkerstein was ready to create his monster. He didn’t have the wisdom of my English teacher friend to tell him that just because he could, didn’t mean he should.

Oh, young ones, it was a tough time to be a teacher. In fact, I could use a cup of coffee. Let’s take a break and talk about classic television. Have you ever seen WKRP in Cincinnati?

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