The Last Class

When a class ends,

Rejoicing mixes with pensiveness,

Particularly when your Jesuit-based-institution

Embraces reflection.

Sometimes, those reflections are

A better evidence of learning than grades.

"Last year, I thought I knew everything about learning to read and almost everything about teaching because I had been to school and my children were in school even though I had not begun teaching. I thought "old" teachers did not think about kids and only cared about paychecks. I thought I was going to be THAT teacher that threw out all the old stuff that was not working and change things.  I would have all my students focus on phonological awareness and after they were sure of all the sounds they would be reading everything they wanted to read. I was sure that I had all the answers. Then, the more I learned, the more I learned I needed to learn, and the more I wanted to learn, and the more questions I had! Some might say that my questions mean I am not ready to be a leader; however, I know, now, that my questions mean I am prepared to be a critical reader, a careful consumer of ideas, and a respectful teacher who knows there are no one-size fix-all-solutions to working with the diverse humans who all deserve to be readers, writers, and learners in all of our classes."

Class dismissed. 

May 24 Memorial Poppies

This short poem, a Shadorma (3-5-3-3-7-5) is inspired by 

John who was outside Shoprite on the eve of Memorial Day weekend.

He worked for the VA, lost a leg in Afghanistan and

is passionate about the lessons we should have learned from history.

He sat there

Giving out poppies

Donations

Accepted

Remember those lost in wars

Freedom is not free

SOL25 May 20 Much to Celebrate

Thank you Two Writing Teachers for this weekly forum.

Today, I am sharing a slice of life that has lived only in my heart

Until today.

There was much to celebrate

That evening

Grilled salmon, steamed asparagus, bargain wine,

I recounted my trip down the West Side

My meeting, getting final approval.

"Take your laptop with you," he suggested,

"you might get some work done," not realizing

What lie ahead.

I left before coffee, after the early-morning call. 

An accident, an ambulance, precautions.

I found them still in the ER, waiting for results.

"C1C2 fracture, Level 1 trauma," he said, 

"hopeful, fingers, toes moving," not knowing,

What lie ahead.

Conversations, concerns, signs,

Suggesting a miracle,

There was so much more to celebrate

That morning. 

Ethical ELA May 19 You Helped Me and I Helped You

On a glorious Monday, Ethical ELA prompt requested  a demi-sonnet!  My first thought was to pretend I didn't see the prompt and my second thought was, "too busy!" Yet, 7 lines with a sort-of-rhyme and no syllable count can't be that bad, can it? I knew of the reading experience I was glad I stopped to embrace.

We read "Little Blue Truck,"* every time, 

"You helped me and I helped you." 

Your damp locks next to my heart, 

Until the "Day the Crayons Quit,"* where you knew

Every single laugh, pun, joke in every single line,

Finally, you picked up "Dog Man,"* on your own

Smiling, while happy-sad tears welled in mine.

*Little Blue Truck (Schertle), The Day the Crayons Quit (Daywalt), and Dog Man (Pilkey)are popular children's books that span the early reading experience for children (and their lucky Memes). 

Ethical ELA May 18 Bindings

Today's Ethical ELA asks us to write a poem "about the tension and beauty of living between two cultures."   My own heritage is pieced together like a quilt; yet, I am certain that surnames as well as first names provide a binding that determines how we perceive ourselves as well as how others see us.

From the very beginning

I was wrapped in a shamrock green quilt,

The Dineen surname overpowering

Equal sized fabrics from,

Germany, Italy and Wales.  

My siblings, Kathleen and Jeremiah,

Despite identical genetics,

Far more Irish than I,

Anita, whose perhaps

Spanish or Peruvian name

Added color, if not clear roots,

To my quilt.

Hesitantly,

I traded my quilt's backing

For one where race cars

Mingle with calamari,

Providing my children

The Ferreri surname binding

Pieces of their own quilts

From Germany, Italy, Wales, Ireland 

With perhaps, embroidery from Spain or Peru!

Ethical ELA May 17 To Forgive

Ethical ELA's Open Write asks us to reflect on forgiveness, a topic that evokes raw emotion in me.  

I've

Said, "I forgive you."

Tried to

Forgive.

Let go of resentment.

Redirect anger.

Reimagine my life. 

I've 

Read Relationship Trauma*

Done therapy and yoga.

Planted flowers.

Walked many miles.

Discarded memories.

Envisioned a new story.

I'm still

Sad on

Holidays, anniversaries.

Aware that for me,

To forgive is 

An every-day-of-your-life 

Recurring action,

A means to move forward.

A verb.

*by Melissa Fulgieri

Listen

It started at a full-day-long tournament when a little one grabbed the opportunity to ask for a story about her when she was a baby. I listened to her request and did my best to settle into storytelling despite the drizzle and hard ground. The next request was for a story about brothers and then for an imaginary story.  To be honest, it was raining slowly when we started but the rain did motivate me to create a moat around the castle-home. Eventually, it was running down our backs and cheeks, but she smiled, listening intently, not one bit worried about the storm overhead.

The next day, it happened at an appointment with the requisite waiting room experience. An older-than-me gentleman started talking and I listened to his thoughts on the Mets. For the record, I know little about the Mets beyond their stadium in Queens.  After he was called into the exam area, his wife (I assume) came back to thank me for making the nervous wait easier. I smiled thinking, perhaps, my listening to him gave her time to prepare for whatever storms lie ahead.

Days later, it happened when visiting a friend whose life was changing before her eyes as she packed up a lifetime of memories and tried to hold on to a semblance of normalcy as a giant-storm changed the trajectory of her life. She listened intently as I shared what had been happening in her absence. I listened as she talked about frustrations, fears, and unlikely solutions to the storm washing away her own dreams. 

The real-life rain storm outside was slowly abating as I left, leaving the dumpster as well as the street glistening and me deep in thought about how listening makes all the storms of life a wee bit better.

SOL25 May 6 I Wish I Knew Then What I Know Now

Long ago, I performed at Flintsone Elementary.* My cooperating teacher was not much older, but she encouraged my performances. My thirty first graders, however, rarely listened in spite of Oscar qualifying performances. I wondered if their listening had been impacted by the constant din of the adjacent Capital Beltway traffic. 

I really didn't think about the performing when I started this new chapter, but I did find myself, on a Sunday night, crafting a lesson plan, typing it up, and placing it in a zip lock bag (this part was new to me). I also checked my playlist (new to me) and did a practice run before laying out a new bathing suit (also new to me) and heading to bed. I was ready, but anxious, and I slept like someone awaiting a performance. 

My palms were sweating when Happy Together began, but I was confident that my carefully honed playlist including Pretty Woman and Stop in the Name of Love would bring back memories of dancing and encourage moving. We stretched, kicked, bicycled and laughed in a somewhat familiar routine.  I veered off my notes, at times, as a good teacher does in response to observations of student progress; however, it was clearly my students, who are also my classmates, who were performing, singing and motivating me with smiles and encouragement.   

Afterwards, I reflected about the parts that worked and what I could make better. I found myself reminiscing about the days, long ago at Flintstone Elementary School when I really thought teaching was performing! Now, I know the sports world has a better model for encouraging others to do their best. These days, I know a lot more about engaging, motivating and coaching others.  Afterwards, I found myself wishing I knew then what I know now.

to perform: 1) carry out, accomplish; 2) present to an audience

to coach: one who instructs and directs team strategy

* I really did student teaching at Flintstone Elementary School!

May 1, 2025 Promises

"You still look pretty good, " I thought as I glanced at the centerpiece that had been on my table for nearly a week. While some of her flowers were showing age, she was still a tangible reminder of a wonderful celebration of love with rarely consumed tidbits (like shrimp tacos) and endless dancing. 

"You provoke so many memories," I thought as she watched me write this blog post. Yes, it seems like it was not that long ago that I was the young-un, filled with love and hope, getting married.  Yes, it seems like it was not that long ago that I was the out there dancing until my blisters had blisters!  Yes, it seems like yesterday that I was on the planning team. 

"You, too, are changing, ever so slowly," I thought as I separated a crunchy rose from her midst. You are a reminder that living and loving means respecting that everything and everyone are constantly changing. Those little kids who used to gather around the tree in footies are now dancing with their newlywed daughters who once were wrapped in quilts I once made of love. 

I am pretty sure I have never taken a centerpiece home after a wedding before, but watching it change this week has been a reminder that I guess I needed during a week with achy knees (I did dance) and both end-of-the-semester and end-of-life celebrations. It was a good thing I did, as it has been an anchor in a week with plentiful reminders that everything has to change, that is just the way it is.  

I am pretty sure it takes a whole lot of faith to see beyond the changes.

I am sure those seeds that we plant along the way are promises of new life and abundant love in wonderful formats (and to music) that we might not even imagine.