>Husband and I have a different perspective on the Packers and their post-season. He’s a Packer fan in a way, but he looks at their success from a slightly different angle because he works in television.
Television news in a major NFL market is a whole different, well, ball game from working at a station with no football to cover. For him, an extended post-season is both a blessing and a curse. It means more work, and it means more work. More work means overtime, and more work means overtime. An extended season can also mean travel…unless the Pack manage to earn home field advantage.
Who cares? I hear you wail. Well, here’s transcript of a conversation we had less than an hour ago.
Me: It’ll be great if they keep winning and get home field advantage through the playoffs.
Husband: No, no, n-n-n-n-n-no!
Me: What? I thought you’d like it because you wouldn’t have to travel!
Husband: I don’t want to work outside on the sidelines in the freezing cold!
Me: Okay, then you want Dallas to win so that you can work a game in Dallas, instead?
Husband: No, No, n-n-n-n-n-n-no!
Me (confused): Huh?
Husband: I have this fear that the news director is going to look at us engineers and say, ‘Erbert, Gerbert, load up the satellite truck and drive it down to Dallas. and when they win? Turn right.’ I could be on the road for three weeks! (editor’s note: he said “IF they win.” I changed it.)
Me: Then you should cheer for the Packers to keep winning. They’ll earn home field advantage, and you won’t have to travel.
Husband: (speechless, waving arms in air)
Me: I suppose it’s a lose-lose situation for you.
Husband: Yes! Yes! Yes!
>Ah, the cards.
>Good intentions…well, you know the rest. I intended to have the Christmas cards done and mailed earlier this week. I know they won’t reach their recipients by Tuesday, but I do plan to get them written and mailed today.
Husband and I have never gone for the family picture style card. I enjoy seeing those, but we’ve just never taken the time to get them made. Our kids are old enough now that their growth and change isn’t dramatic from year to year, so it’s not as exciting to send a picture as it is when, say, kids are babies and preschoolers. We’re also frugal — okay, cheap — when it comes to items like Christmas cards. I like to buy them the day after Christmas when they’re marked down, store them in the attic, and then send them out a year later, secure in the knowledge that I’ve saved our family budget a few cents. Picture cards are no longer expensive, but the time investment is still significant.
If we spot a cute/humorous/just right card, we’ll send it. One year I sent out cards with Santa Claus scoring a touchdown. He wasn’t dressed in green and gold, but it worked for us. Family lore includes the time my mother found a card that made us all laugh. It had a lovely picture, musical instruments of some sort, with sheet music as background. The card proclaimed “Silent Night” in lovely script letters. A great card for a musician family, right?
Wrong. The sheet music wasn’t Silent Night; it was the Star Spangled Banner.
The end result: my mom bought a box of cards, and we sent them to people who would know the difference and enjoy it while also understand that we knew exactly what we were sending.
So family and friends, you’ll get my cards late (again) this year. But at least you can enjoy the stories.
Update: I ran out of cards after letter O in my address book. I went out to fill my minivan with gas pre-storm and decided to try the neighborhood Family Dollar stores. Success! I’ll get these sent out tonight.
>Teachers often talk about “attention-getting behavior,” mainly negative behaviors that develop in an attempt to gain center stage when the positive attention isn’t sufficient. But what happens when the attention-getting behavior is developed and sponsored by a major university?
The Child Study Center at NYU recently worked with a major advertising agency to create billboards that they felt called attention to child and adolescent psychiatric and learning disorders. Nicknamed the “Ransom Note” campaign, the billboards displayed ‘notes’ like this:
“We have your son. We will make sure he will no longer be able to care for himself or interact socially as long as he lives. This is only the beginning…Autism.”
“We have your son. We are destroying his ability for social interaction and driving him into a life of complete isolation. It’s up to you now…Asperger’s Syndrome”
“We have your daughter. We are making her wash her hands until they are raw, everyday. This is only the beginning…OCD”
“We are in possession of your son. We are making him squirm and fidget until he is a detriment to himself and those around him. Ignore this and your kid will pay…ADHD”
These ads spurred an activist movement that surprised their creators and sponsors. Autism advocates mobilized immediately to protest the implied hopelessness and inaccurate perceptions in these “notes”. Bloggers like Kristina of AutismVox and Vicki of Speak Softly stepped up, spread the word, and eventually were quoted in the New York Times. I read great posts by Mom-nos and Dr. Joe, both parents of children with autism. If you follow the trail from these four, you’ll find many, many more blogs that addressed the topic — written by parents of children with autism and adults with autism and Asperger’s Syndrome.
The campaign has been abruptly halted because of the negative responses. Dr. Harold Koplewicz, head of the Study Center that initiated the Ransom Notes campaign, made a public statement of apology, ending it thus:
“…Our goal was to start a national dialogue. Now that we have the public’s attention, we need your help. We would like to move forward and harness the energy that this campaign has generated to work together so that we do not lose one more day in the lives of these children.
“We invite all of you to continue this conversation online at a “town hall” meeting that we will hold early next year as we plan the next phase of our national public awareness campaign on child mental health. Look for details on our web site www.AboutOurKids.org.”
Well, as the saying goes, the road to you-know-where is paved with good intentions. Gaining the public’s attention by using shock isn’t a new tactic in advertising, whether commercial or public service. Autism isn’t new, either.
But considering that awareness is the lowest form of knowledge, far behind comprehension, application, and analysis, shouldn’t any public relations campaign be far better quality than this one? The autism movement has moved well beyond the awareness stage. Any major attention-getting ideas should be beyond that stage, too.
But you know what I say, “Should” is a bogus word. It’s meaningless, really.
I wonder what kind of “ransom note” they’d come up with for a hearing impaired mom, happily married, well-educated, professional, raising a teen and a college student? If you haven’t guessed, that’s me. And don’t bother with negative attention-getting behavior, either. I’ve taught too long to fall for that.
>Please have snow and mistletoe —
>Contingency plans
>Recently, my coworker was suddenly taken ill and sent me an email with lesson plans for the day. The plans were basic, and a bit sketchy, so I dipped into my bag of tricks. My own contingency plans.
A few years ago (it feels like it was just last month), we lost a teaching colleague to bacterial meningitis. It was sudden and heartbreaking. It was also a wake-up call to the rest of us.
All teachers keep a Sub Folder. It has basic information such as attendance routines, a class list, schedule, other teachers who can provide support, and where to find the coffeepot. With our friend’s death, many of us started a new emergency sub folder. We thought, what if we had a car accident on the way to work? What if there was a family emergency? A tornado or fire? How about the possibility of getting stuck with a cancelled flight or being on the other side of a storm front, unable to drive? A sudden unpredictable illness?The possibilities were endless, even frightening, given what we’d just experienced.
Well, a kindred spirit (and companion in grief) suggested we come up with a set of alternate plans that a sub could teach on short notice. I saw the value in her suggestion and grabbed the bull by the horns. Hence was born my Emergency Sub Folder, subtitled “Activities with value for filling time.” One folder has 30 copies of several activities: word searches, spelling practice games, and basic math facts. The other has a collection of master copies; the sub would have to make copies, but there is enough to do that he or she could fill a day and keep the kids busy.
The last part of my plan is this: these folders are on top of my file cabinet, next to my desk, labelled in large letters “Mrs. Flowers’ Sub folder.” An substitute worth his/her salt could walk into my room, find the folders, and teach the day.
I’ve had these folders for four years (out of thirteen years teaching). It’s a little like carrying an umbrella, snow brush, or ice scraper; I hope no one needs to use them, but they’re ready.
>Santa’s a Secret, for now
>In the last few years, I taught in a building where the Secret Santa exchange was a work of art. Aside from the creative gift giving and the sneaky delivery systems, there were the emails.
Mrs. G. “Dear Santa: I have been very good. If you happen to come across a CD of Josh Groban singing ‘Oh, Holy Night’, I’d love to see it under my tree.”
Mrs. O. “Hey, Mrs. G., maybe Santa could send Josh in person to deliver!”
Mrs. H. “Do you think he’d take requests?”
Mrs. McQ. “Who’s Josh Groban?”
Well, we enlightened Mrs. McQ, but Mrs. G. didn’t get her CD. I hope she’s treated herself since then. Josh Groban is an amazing talent, and his Christmas CD will warm the Grinchiest heart.
But this year, I’m in a new school building. The Secret Santa exchange has been creative, but not as heated and suspenseful as I’ve experienced. However, my Santa is sneaky, and has my number, that’s for sure. He or She delivered (by way of a student) a 16 oz. Starbucks Breakfast Blend one Friday at the first bell, and it was still hot. That leaves out all the early birds who arrive long before school — like I do. And…I saw a matching cup sitting on the principal’s desk less than an hour after I got this one. Hmm.
Later that day, a co-worker showed me a Starbucks gift card and asked what kinds of things I liked from Starbucks. He’s not a coffee drinker, and he’d won the gift card as a door prize.
The following week I got a lovely metallic red cappuccino mug, also from Starbucks. Pretty, shiny, and smooth, just like the coffee I put in it.
Then came the sneakiness. I arrived late to a staff meeting (due to a PT appointment), and when I got back to my room, there was a gift bag with Starbucks Christmas Blend, whole bean (Mmmm) nestled within the tissues. This had not been on my desk twenty minutes earlier when I arrived. I think this rules out the principal, as she was running the meeting. My non-coffee drinking co-worker…well, I noticed he (and at least two others) had stepped out of the meeting for a few minutes at one time or another and then come back.
There’s no real evidence, though. I’m not sure who might be playing the Jolly Old Elf, but I know it’s someone with good taste. At least I can tell you the gifts taste pretty darn good!
>Oh, the weather outside is…
>Margalit of What was I Thinking and Mid-Century Modern Moms made me laugh yesterday. Boston has been snowed in, big time, and she talked about the French Toast Alert system. I had to smile. According to Margalit,
“the three items grocery stores continually run out of when a big storm is
announced are bread, milk,
and eggs. What can you make with those three items? Why, French Toast!
Clever, it is not?”
She even has French Toast Alert t-shirts! She grinds her own coffee beans, too, but that’s another story.
I can identify with this philosophy because a) I live in Wisconsin; b) I stock up when a storm is threatening; c) I stock up when the flu season is threatening; and d) I like French toast. When the kids were young and we had very little money, I made French toast often. It was easy and it was cheap. Bread from the day-old bakery store, eggs (on sale if possible), and a little milk, and we had a meal. Breakfast, brunch, or lunch, the family liked it and it was a piece of cake to make. Er, sorry for the mixed metaphor.
My shopping list today also includes ingredients for my annual Gifts in a Jar. I plan to give my co-workers brownie or cookies mixes in canning jars, all nicely wrapped in a (re-used, of course) pretty gift bag. It’s more time-intensive than costly, and my co-teachers will all enjoy the sentiment and the gift itself.
In summary (I’m teaching essay format in Writers’ Workshop right now, can you tell?), the grocery list today will include bread, eggs, milk, and basic baking supplies. Whether the weather be fair or whether the weather be stormy, I’m ready.
>Random Holiday Thoughts
>Husband and Amigo are in the den decorating the tree. Husband just came out to me and suggested a blog post based on “Teachers never need (blank)” and ending with “…to buy candles or Christmas ornaments.” I think he just found the box full of student gift ornaments from the past twelve years.
If anyone wonders why our tree lights don’t reach the bottom branches, just remember we have rabbits.
Yes, I wore geek clothes to school today. My students think it’s totally normal for a teacher to wear a Santa turtleneck under a Green Bay Packers sweater. I think they may be right.
My boss is looking for a Wii. She has had no luck in town or online. Any ideas, folks? She’s a terrific mom and really wants to get this for her daughter for Christmas. I suggested a couple of web sites, but she’d already tried them and they were sold out.
I had an odd dream last night. In my dream, a chair got buried in snow on our front porch. Only the top of its back stuck out of the drift. This was not a deck chair or molded plastic polka-dot type thing; it was a nice, wood, straight backed chair. I couldn’t pull it out without breaking it because the snow was so heavy and deep, but I knew that leaving it buried outside for the duration of winter would ruin it. I woke up wondering why I left an indoor chair on the front porch. Our porch is rather small, too — it would have made more sense to leave it on the deck. We’ve had some snow and some bitter cold days, but nothing resembling Boston’s current storm system. Dream analysts, any takers? Or is this another subliminal thought that is best unidentified?
>It flu the croup…
>Score: attendance 21, tardy 1, ill 3. And those 3 — well, I’m beginning to wonder if I remember what they look like.
One missed most of last week and might be out the rest of this week as well.
One missed three days so far, and may miss more.
The child who was coughing yesterday was out today.
Two more were coughing today. Tomorrow? I’ll wait and see.
Last time I worked with a student teacher, she didn’t see the entire class as a whole entity for the firts five of her eight weeks. She learned how to handle make-up work, preparing it and then correcting and recording vast amounts of it later. It’s a useful skill; I can vouch for that right now. I had no prep time today other than recess, and I gave up one recess to keep a batch of kids in to finish their homework. Then I used the other recess (15 minutes, mind you) to prepare and copy the make-up work for three, leave one packet in the office to be picked up, gave one to a younger brother to take home, and then zoomed upstairs for a speedy bathroom break.
I keep hand sanitizer in my classroom and asked the housekeeper to refill the anti-bacterial soap dispenser. I’ll keep encouraging students to wash their hands and throw their used tissues in the wastebasket. Most parents have been reasonable about recognizing whether their children should be in school or not. That’s something teachers can never take for granted, so I’m very grateful for the families with whom I work.
And as for Christmas? Note to self: add a personal pack of tissues to each student’s gift pack. Hopefully, they won’t need it, and neither will I.

