the final countdown

Exactly two weeks from today, classes will begin. I still have a long checklist of things I want or need to accomplish in order to feel prepared, but I've made my paper countdown chain to prepare my emotional self.

Here's my countdown chain:


And below is my chart of my emotional journey over the last month, (expressed in convenient pie charts!) The process of acclimation and curriculum design has been overwhelming at times, but on the whole, I now feel like I'm at a good place.

the downside

Leaving school today, I stopped in at the Angora Cafe across the street for a smoothie. As I sipped and read, I also noted the ominous darkening sky. I thought perhaps I would be wise to catch the train home soon before the heavens opened up.

It seems I had this thought about fifteen minutes too late. Standing at the Babcock Street stop, I had just a few seconds before I felt small dots of moisture. Then the drops became more frequent and larger... like speedy little peas. And then they were furious little apricots. Apricots of water dropping on my head, down my neck, puddling about my toes.

By the time the train arrived, my teeth were chattering and my gray dress was plastered against my body. Half the papers in my bag were soaked, and black rivulets of mascara traced all the way down my face.

I was a sight. I walked in the door of my apartment, ripped off my clothes, and took a nap. For four hours.

So although I'm happy to be eco-friendly and have noticed better muscle definition in my calves from all the walking I've done, today I would have welcomed a car.

"you can surely try to be more alive"

On the same block as my school, a mere twenty minute walk from my apartment, Mates of State played last night.

Their opening band was interesting. Judgement Day is an instrumental San Francisco-based band comprised of a violinist, a cellist, and a drummer. Think of a cross-pollination between Y0-Yo-Ma and Korn. Somebody's orchestra teachers would be proud. I've never heard such angry strings. They were.... exhillarating. I sort of loved it.

And there's little more romantic in the world than a husband-wife band. Kori Gardner and Jason Hammel were brilliant. Shocker. I'm glad I went.

(Sorry for the low-res pictures. It was either that or try to use my flash, and I'll resist false lighting until the bitter end, even if my ISO is pushed to extremities.)

I'm so dizzy, my head is spinning. Like a whirlpool, it never ends.

I feel like I should apologize for failing to write here, but I think I won't. Because, in the end, I'm living a lot and writing only a little. I'm planning and dreaming and scheming and baking and carousing... okay, not carousing.

But my brain really is spinning all over the place, thinking about the place of narrative in history and how to find entry points on some of the more abstruse elements of curriculum. I've been considering what I want this chapter of my life to look like, how I want to order it, where I want to place emphasis.

Some things that I've experienced lately:

1. Revere Beach Sand-sculpting contest
2. Lauren and Jim Shaw's home in Woodstock Vermont - a veritable Stars' Hollow! Lauren and I attended the self-named "World's Greatest Book Sale" at the Unitarian Church. The sale also featured a table of "ethnic foods" -- hot dogs, chili (Mexico?), quiche, and gazpacho. Also, a minstrel. Later, we went to a Shakespearean performance at the town hall/movie theater. Lauren tells me that on Thursdays they might have a zoning committee meeting, and then on Friday the entire town turns out to see a showing of Wall-E. Moreover, the entire town is blanketed with flowers. It's completely surreal. I'm so going back, particularly for the Wassail Festival in December. Here is a completely typical house and lawn:
3. AP US History conference - Though I won't be teaching AP, I'll be preparing my students for it. I learned a lot about the skills the students will need, but also what it feels like to be in a classroom listening to lecture. I must never forget this feeling. It's probably good to take one class every year, if only for this reason.
4. Taught myself to make baguettes - So easy! Only four ingredients! Time-consuming, but simple. Here's the recipe I used.
5. Walden Pond - I chaperoned a freshman field trip to Concord where we saw the actual Walden Pond, a reconstruction of Thoreau's house (tiny!) and a statue of Thoreau himself (also tiny!)
6. Welcome dinner for the MATCH Corps - The MATCH Corps are the recent graduates who will be living at the school and tutoring the students all year. There were 648 applicants for less than 60 openings. Thus, the ones who got the spots are really impressive. Their average SAT scores are in the 1400-1500 pt. range (in the old 1600-max system). Smart cookies. And speaking of cookies, we ate them. We also ate some of the best lasagna I've ever tasted. I even got to help cook the fancy-schmancy lasagna! What fun!

Yesterday, I signed up for a free trial at what my roommates affectionately term "the fancy-pants gym."

So today, before I left for my AP conference, I packed a gym bag.




Yes. The thought is funny to me, too.

I highly recommend this book:




Also, I am growing increasingly excited about the coming school year. Ninth grade non-fiction is going to be superb! So much fun to teach! And though tenth grade US History is less organized at present, it's shaping up in some fairly compelling ways as well. This week, I'm being sent to an AP US History conference on behalf of MATCH. (And yes, I routinely pinch myself and wonder how it is I'm living this life!)

doors of opportunity

Today, for the ninety or so lucky freshmen whose names were drawn at random from a much, much larger pool, the month-long summer academy begins. While their peers are watching TV and swimming and flirting, these kids will be doing fun-filled academic activities like math tutorials. Some of them, I learned today, may even commute nearly two hours each way to get here.

Students at MATCH have to dress the part. They wear khakis with white collared shirts or official MATCH tees, or, if they like, they can sport a shirt with a college logo on it. In the sea of white shirts, one lone red Harvard tee stood out, symbolic of the courage and hope each kid must nurture to get through these doors, hinting at the hope that these doors will nudge others open.

I watched these students as they tried to focus on their work, eyes shyly darting around the room sizing up possible friends. All so nervous. And I thought about how much each kid must commit -- not just 8-5, two hours more than their peers. Sometimes they're looking at staying until nearly 8pm, and then commuting home. Students admitted that staying in school can be tough, what with the strict discipline and high standards and financial and social pressures from home and friends. But they also said they dreamed of owning their own businesses, becoming doctors, lawyers, architects, forensics specialists, and teachers.

I know nothing of this level of commitment. Nothing. Together the students read and analyzed an excerpt from a speech by Martin Luther King, Jr. My eyes could not help but well up as they read these words:

And I say to you, my young friends, doors are opening to you--doors of opportunities that were not open to your mothers and your fathers — and the great challenge facing you is to be ready to face these doors as they open...

This hasn't always been true — but it will become increasingly true, and so I would urge you to study hard, to burn the midnight oil; I would say to you, don't drop out of school. I understand all the sociological reasons, but I urge you that in spite of your economic plight, in spite of the situation that you're forced to live in — stay in school.

And when you discover what you will be in your life, set out to do it as if God Almighty called you at this particular moment in history to do it. Don't just set out to do a good job. Set out to do such a good job that the living, the dead or the unborn couldn't do it any better.

- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. "What is Your Life's Blueprint?" to a group of students at Barratt Junior High School in Philadelphia, October 1967