During Wednesday evening’s dinner with the family (a positive of COVID-19 – we very rarely ate dinner together before), we talked about our summer vacation.  Talking about summer vacation is very calming during a busy March week.  My girls love a trip to the ocean (Oak Island, North Carolina), and I love our trip to the Adirondack mountains (Raquette Lake – about two and a half hours from our house).  This poem is sparked by our next summer trip to the Adirondacks:

Calm of the early morning,

As the sun slowly creeps into the sky,

And mist hangs over the lake,

Waiting for the first fish to jump,

The first fishing boat to come.

The crisp mountain air,

Cools the hot mug of coffee,

A reminder of the beauty of Adirondack summers.

As the dew melts away,

The floating dock creaks and sways,

Breaks the silence,

While I crack my book,

For a morning of reading.

The large, heavy blanket,

Creates a mountain morning paradise,

Perfect for hours of reading in silence.

This is what I look forward to all school year long, and it gets me in the state of mind for the upcoming school year.  Many middle grade and adult novels have been read on the Adirondack docks of the countless beautiful lakes.  I’ll take a 5:00 AM morning in the Adirondacks over any 5:00 AM morning.

Happy reading!  Happy dreaming of vacation!

If academics were as important as athletics…  I could not stop thinking about this on Tuesday night.  My youngest daughter plays on a community club soccer team that just plays teams around our area (about a thirty mile radius), but the team is being taken over by a larger, more serious, club that is known statewide.  As my wife listened to their presentation (via Zoom), I graded papers, watched the ACC Basketball Tournament, and listened to tidbits of the soccer presentation.

As I listened to one of the coaches talk about the club making highlight videos of the kids playing soccer so they could send them to colleges, I thought that it was crazy (he was talking about middle school aged kids) and I also thought how cool would it be to make a highlight video of kids reading, writing, working with manipulatives in science, answering math questions, and learning about history.  In a society that treasures academics over athletics (I know – farfetched), we, the teachers, could charge people a ton of money to practice their academic skills.  The coach talked about the kids playing across the nation (my kid is in fifth grade – across the nation?) and for extra money you can hire a coach to follow your kid around to these tournaments.  We, the teachers, could take the kids across the nation and show off how smart they are by competing against other academic clubs.  Some teachers would get paid more to get students ready for Harvard, Stanford, and Cornell.

By this paragraph, you realize how silly all of this sounds, but don’t you wonder what the United States would be like if we cherished academics as much as sports?  The reality is that there are more academic scholarships available for students than athletic scholarships.  The reality is that school prepares you for life much more than sports prepares you for life.  Are sports all bad?  No way.  They teach kids to work together (even if it is an individual sport), keep kids healthy, and can teach kids discipline.  They can also create a lifelong love of a healthy lifestyle, but the reality is that it won’t get them a job unless they become a professional athlete, which is VERY uncommon.

Needless to write, we will not be letting our fifth grader take this path.  We want her to play multiple sports.  We don’t want to drive around the nation having her play (we don’t even want to drive around our state).  We don’t care if she plays college sports.  We don’t even care if she plays high school sports.  We just want her to be active, and of course, we want her to do well in school.:)

Just like everything else, even Mondays are crazier during COVID-19.  After spending the entire weekend planning and thinking I’m ready for the week, the hybrid/remote learning schedule threw curveball after curveball (Can you tell I’m excited for baseball season?) at me.  I think that I may have even got hit by a couple of pitches (Okay, I’ll stop with the baseball references).  So, when I walked out the door to the parking lot, I was not surprised that the Bangles lyrics, “It’s just another manic Monday…” was running through my head.

This does get me wondering about Mondays during a more normal time.  Honestly, I don’t remember what Mondays were exactly like before COVID-19.  It’s been a year, I’m getting old, and Mondays were always a blur.  I’m hopeful that Mondays will be easier in the future (in more normal times), but I have a feeling that I’m dreaming.  It’s Tuesday and I made it through Monday, so I can dream.:)

Until Mondays go back to normal times, I will continue to prepare on the weekend with the goal of nailing a Monday.  In fact, I will aspire to nail an entire week of perfect lessons.  Now, I’m really dreaming.  In the meantime, I will duck the curveballs that Mondays throw at me and look forward to the day that I have all of the kids back in the classroom (and I don’t have to rely on technology for my daily live lessons).

As I trudged through the miles on a cold Sunday afternoon, I daydreamed about the warmer days that lay ahead.  I will freely admit that this time of the year I literally stalk the weather forecast.  I spend about an hour a day on my phone, and I swear that forty minutes of the hour is checking the forecast on two local media news outlets and weather.com.  Now that my secret is out there in the blog world, I will write (excitedly) that the next fourteen days contain days in the 30s, 40s, 50s, and 60s.  Yes!  Yes!  Yes!

It is easy to be excited about the 30s and 40s when you have spent the last few days running in temperatures that are hovering around twenty-five degrees with a wind chill that is very close to ten degrees.  Ouch!  It takes about ten minutes to thaw out after an hour run, but not for long because the temperatures are on the rise.  Hooray!

While discussing the upcoming week, my wife and kids continually reminded me that tomorrow is not the first day of spring (at least not on the calendar).  They also joked about how I do this every single year.  Here’s the strange part.  I realized that the first March day of warmer temperatures, the day that I patiently waited for, ended up being the day the nation shut down.  During the remote work day from home, I walked before school started.  I walked on my lunch break, and I ran as soon as the school day ended.  It was the happiest day and the saddest day all rolled into one day.  There were so many questions about the future weeks and months. Ugh!

So, today, I will make the best of this warmer day that will lead off a stretch of days that no longer hover near ten degrees with the wind chill factor.  With three of my kids starting four weeks of indoor track, which is going to be run outdoors (such a strange year), I am so motivated to get back into running shape and get fit.  This is always the perfect time of the year for this.  It all begins today.  I can’t wait until this afternoon so that I can hit the roads without four layers.:)

Lists.  I love lists.  I love creating lists and crossing off items on lists, and I love to create lists to track something happening in my life (miles run, tracking weight weekly since November 16th).  In fact, I am two list items away from being ready for school tomorrow morning.

The interesting thing about lists is that the items on the list can take different amounts of time.  For example, my yellow sticky note taped to my school planner had nine bulleted items when I left school on Friday, but some of the items, such as prepare science agendas and post agendas and activities to Google Classroom, can take ninety minutes to two hours, and other items, like grading the short story slides, take about 30 minutes.  No matter the length, it is always a pleasure to draw a line and cross out an item completed.  Honestly, this weekend, it was a rush to cross out each accomplishment.  It may have taken all weekend and hours of time, but everything is almost crossed out and I am ready for the week.

I have not always been a list person.  Back in 2003, I began to train for a really long triathlon event, and in order to keep track of school, home, and training, I began to make lists.  Obviously, I haven’t stopped.  Before 2003, I did not make any lists – no grocery lists, no playlists, no to-do lists, no lists.  I often wonder how different my life would be if I started making lists long ago.  I was always so unorganized as a kid and young adult that I am certain that it would have helped me in many ways.

So, I pass along my crazy list making ways to my children.  My son, who is sixteen-years-old, ignores me and thinks that lists are useless.  For him, I believe that he may be correct because I found three lists (collecting tons of dust) of things he never accomplished in his bedroom when I was helping him move things around last weekend.  But, the three girls, they are list makers.  In fact, the seventeen-year-old is a rock star list maker and task completer (if this is even a real phrase or person).  Maybe my son will be a late bloomer when it comes to list making (like me).

Now, I will post this on my blog and put a cross through “SOL – Day 7” on my list.  One more thing to do and I will be ready for the upcoming week of school.

On my morning walk, the brisk, biting wind made me forget that it is March, but the daylight of 6:45 AM was a sign that spring is coming.  The first thing that I noticed was not the chirping birds (too cold for them this morning), but the green grass that was trying to show its beauty.  As I zigzagged from block to block through my neighborhood with the wind blowing right through me, it was the green grass that somehow kept me warm (at least my thoughts:).

The green grass soon disappeared.  Four hours later, as I drove my daughter to her indoor soccer game, the snow was flying, blowing, and settling on all of the green space that was finally recovering from winter.  It made for a little white knuckle driving, and quickly took me out of my “spring is coming” mood.  When I finally made it home from the game, my eighth grader had shoveled a spot to play some lacrosse off the bounce back.  The green grass was back, and I realized that I wasn’t the only one hoping for spring.

This evening, the green grass had completely disappeared, and my dream of a nice Saturday evening of grilling turned into a frigid, snowy (sideways blowing snow) night of grilling.  As soon as dinner was done, I went to the computer to check the local forecast to be sure that spring is right around the corner.  It is.  The forecast for Wednesday is sixty-one degrees and sunny.  There is hope.  So, tonight, I am washing up my shorts and cleaning the golf clubs for the warmer temperatures.  I know it may be a little premature (since I live in Syracuse, NY), but I’m hopeful.

I have always enjoyed the weekend.  After five days of teaching kids, sitting through meetings, calling/emailing parents, and grading papers, which usually takes me late into the night, the weekend is the grand prize at the end of five long days.  Well, the weekends during this new hybrid/remote learning schedule are even more grand.  Even though I spend about 8-10 hours of the weekend doing school work (posting every single assignment and lesson on Google Classroom), I still get SO EXCITED for 3:05 PM on Friday.

Last Friday, I left the building practically singing “goodbye” and “happy weekend” to all of my colleagues.  I told them that this Friday we are going to all come out of our classrooms and do the wave (like they used to do at football and baseball stadiums in the good ole’ days when fans could go to sporting events).  I think that they think that I am kidding.  They are going to be super surprised at 3:04 PM today when I am encouraging/begging them to come into the halls for a “weekend” cheer.

What is different about weekends during the COVID-19 Pause and hybrid/remote learning schedule?  Well, it is time away from wearing a mask.  Now, I have to go grocery shopping and drop my children off at sport practices and games (which you know how much I love if you read my post from a few days ago), but it is not eight and a half hours straight in a mask.  The second thing that I love about weekends is that I can let my hands recover.  By Friday and helping the students wash the desks seven times a day, the skin on my hands are literally cracking and falling off.  And lastly, it gives me a break from the new kind of busy that hybrid/remote teaching is all about – head spinning busy.

The silver lining – When school goes back to a more normal schedule, it will, without a doubt, feel easier.  But until then, I will soak up every minute (no, every second) of the weekend.  And on Sunday night, I will be ready for Monday.  On Monday night, I will be ready for Friday at 3:05 PM.:)

I like to share.  I don’t have control issues.  But, when it comes to my classroom, I don’t like to share and I do have control issues.  I work on a three-person team, but we have never taught the kids as a team.  I would be more than willing to work together with the kids, but my teammates are not interested.  They are willing to do community building activities with the kids, which is ironic because we don’t teach/learn as a community, but they aren’t willing to do any PBL or inquiry projects connected to the curriculum.

In my nineteen years of teaching, I have only worked successfully with one teacher.  We worked on a team and did many PBL projects with the students, but the third teacher was not interested.  Unfortunately (for me, not the teacher), the teacher retired three years ago and I was left on an island again.  This wouldn’t bother me, but being a sixth grade teacher, there are so many learning opportunities (correlating science and math or history and ELA or all of the core subjects) that we could do with the kids, and I believe that they would have success.

Two years ago, I was scheduled to teach the Consultant-Teacher-Direct class with a sixth grade special education teacher.  I have known the teacher since I was in high school, but before a few years ago, I did not know her very well.  What I knew?  She worked hard.  She worked well with the kids.  She had experience at the elementary school level.  And she seemed to enjoy teaching.  Even with all of this, I was very nervous about having her come into my classroom.  For our middle school, this was the first time we were trying this model, and I could not stop thinking: Will we be able to make this work?  Will the kids in my classroom have success?  Will I be able to work with her and get along?

Well, after almost two years, which included a pandemic, the answer is, “Yes, yes, yes.”  Not only have we made it work, but the kids are finding success in our (no longer “my”) classroom.  How do I know that they are finding success?  They are turning into readers (not just because we want them to read, but because they want to read) and they are sharpening their writing skills, which is amazing because teaching writing in a hybrid/remote learning environment is almost impossible.  Most importantly, we work together better than I ever imagined.  We constantly talk pedagogy, reading and writing strategies to utilize with the kids, and the modifications that need to be made to lessons and activities so ALL of the kids find success.  For me, this is unusual because most teachers just want to talk about personal issues when they are not teaching kids.  We talk “school” at school and away from school.  Our students are so lucky to have two dedicated teachers.  I feel lucky to have this (especially this year).

She is the second best teacher that I have EVER worked with.  Her knowledge of special education is outstanding and her strategies that she shares with me and utilizes are effective.  We (not “me” anymore) have created a learning environment where EVERY kid is learning and growing as readers and writers.

This leads me to yesterday afternoon and my letter to the building principal.  I wrote to him asking for one more year with the CTD ELA class.  We have accomplished so much during a pandemic that I want one more year (or more) to utilize all of the lessons, activities, units, and modifications that we have created and used over the last two years.  I know that we will have new kids and new challenges, but I also know that we will do everything that we can to help ALL of them find success with reading and writing.  I’m getting better at sharing my classroom (thanks to this teacher), which is our classroom.  And, I’m even getting used to giving up some control in our classroom for the benefit of OUR students.

Before reading this, I hope that you won’t think of me as a bad parent or bad father.  I love my children.  I am so proud of them.  To my family (mother, father, and sister), I brag about them a little, but in public, I don’t like to brag about them.  We joke about it and they state that it would be strange if I did brag about them.:)  Most of the parents we know are constantly posting on Facebook and talking about how good their kids are at everything they do, especially sports.  I don’t post anything on Facebook, and honestly, I don’t even love standing in the wind, cold, and rain to watch them play.  And, I know that they will share everything about the game or meet with me on the ride home or at McDonalds after a big game/meet.

So, with this written, I have to share the best thing about the COVID-19 protocols and regulations.  During the fall, my son played high school soccer and only two people could attend the game from each family, but the best part was that all of the games were televised on YouTube, Facebook, or through the school district’s athletic department website.  My daughter runs cross country and they even had live coverage of the meets (no audience was allowed at any meet).  It was awesome.  When I go to games, being a coach (of girls lacrosse), I stand along the fence very far from the stands or the finish line.  I am so impatient with adults/parents that yell at their kid and other kids from the stands.  I get so frustrated listening to the adults/parents belittling the head coach or the other team.  On top of it all is that it is rainy and cold in Central New York in late September, October, and November.  No more of this.

Because my son is a sophomore, I gave away my tickets to senior parents (so friends and grandparents could attend).  I gave them to my younger daughter who loves watching her big brother play.  I sat in my warm house with my iPad hooked up to the television and watched almost every soccer game and cross country meet.  It was beautiful.  I only sat outside for three games all season.  My parents, who were nervous about going out into public too much, could watch the games at home.  My sister and nephews, who live in Maryland, could watch the games.  It was awesome.

Well, they are now doing it for the basketball season because people are not allowed into the gyms to watch the games.  He’s not very good at basketball, so I can be home half watching and doing other things.  I am really hoping that they keep it going for the lacrosse season, but my dream is that when they allow people back to the stadiums and gyms to watch high school sports, they will keep the cameras rolling so that I can watch from home.  With my 8th grade daughter getting ready to attend the high school and play fall sports, I will have to set up another television, but I will never be cold, wet and annoyed again.

Tipperary Hill, which is located in the western part of the city of Syracuse, is an Irish neighborhood known for the upside down traffic light and the bars/restaurants.  The most famous bar/restaurant (not just in New York, but also the northeast) serves green beer three weekends before St. Patrick’s Day.  They have been serving green beer for over fifty years.

Back in March of 1994, I attended my first Green Beer Sunday.  There was a parade and wall to wall people in the bar.  There was food, music, and of course, green beer, which is Coors Light (or some light beer) with food coloring.  I would attend six straight Green Beer Sundays and all of them would be memorable (at least the parts I could remember).

Flash to 2021.  My oldest daughter would be working her first Green Beer Sunday as a hostess at the bar/restaurant.  She is a high school junior, so this was going to be a memorable day for her.  With the COVID-19 protocols, the bar capacity was very limited (sold out in twenty minutes), there was no band and no parade, but there was still a line at the door and still die-hard partiers (mostly young like I was).  She was going to spend the late morning and all afternoon working at the door, and I could not wait for her to get home, so I could ask her questions about her time working at her first Green Beer Sunday.

I waited by the side door for her to get home.  Of course, when she walked in the door she said that she needed time to unwind (lots of 17-year-old drama), but within minutes, I had her talking.  She started with, “Everyone was being so loud.  Were you like that, Dad?”  No way, I replied.  “People were drunk by 3:00 in the afternoon.  Some couldn’t walk that well.  Were you like that, Dad?”  Another no way, but I was coming unglued.  “A lot of the younger people were flirting with each other like crazy.  You didn’t do that.  Right, Dad?”  No way.  “People were even bragging about drinking all day and calling into work sick. You weren’t like that.  Right, Dad?”  Another no way, but on this one, she almost sensed my sarcasm.  As I quickly walked out of the kitchen with a sly smirk on my face, I could see the reflection of my wife, who I met at this exact bar, in the front window.  She was shaking her head and rolling her eyes.  I guess my oldest daughter would not have been impressed by my shenanigans as a 21-year-old, but I am thrilled that she is annoyed by this behavior.  I just hope that her feelings don’t change when she gets to college.:)

It sure wasn’t the same kind of Green Beer Sunday that I had 27 years ago (I spent this Sunday doing hours of school work to get ready for another week of hybrid/remote teaching), but I certainly enjoyed my daughter’s rendition of Green Beer Sunday, and there is no way that I could spend an afternoon drinking green beer – I would have to take three days off to recover.