SOLSC '23 Day 4: Ten minutes at a time

 

I paused yesterday to reflect on a shared accomplishment. 

The background info:  last school year, I read Captain Superlative aloud to several classes at once, via Google Meet.  We had a standing appointment for ten minutes a day.  I had an ulterior motive of inspiring kids to perform their own acts of kindness as they were learning to re-socialize themselves after COVID isolation.  

I didn't count on the actual enjoyment factor--but several students asked for another joint read-aloud this school year. Without really thinking it through, I picked one of my favorite fantasy books--Kelly Barnhill's The Girl Who Drank the Moon.

It's 388 pages long, with fairly dense text.  Dense enough that I could only read four to five pages at a time during our ten minute appointments.

We started on September 20th with two fifth grade classes and a third grade class listening in, but the storyline was a bit much for two of the classes.  I did record each session and shared them with the original teachers, in case they had students with more stamina who wanted to keep up.

One fifth grade class hung in there. I would check in occasionally with their teacher and ask if they were still engaged, still interested in the story, and she said yes, so we kept plugging along.  

And on February 23rd, I recorded the final twenty-minute-long read-aloud so they could have the ending on a Friday when we couldn't meet live.  I choked through the bittersweet part, and felt sad as I closed the book one last time--the good sort of sadness one feels at finishing a great story, leaving that world for now.

We did it together, three hundred eighty-eight pages, ten minutes at a time.

SOLSC '23 Day 3: Trapped

 

One of the biggest differences between having a classroom and running a library is that the library is a public space, possibly because it's the only space in your school where meetings involving more than ten people can comfortably be held.  If you work in a school like mine that values its library program, you are notified well ahead of time when the space is needed, so you can adjust your schedule accordingly.

Yesterday was one of those days when the library was in use for a meeting.  All of the administrators in our high school vertical learning team (feeder pattern) were present from 8a to noon.  Since we had been notified a month ago, I was able to see my Thursday morning classes on Wednesday morning, so our schedule was clear.  My assistant and I had plenty of work to do in our office space, behind our closed door.

We were trapped.

Within ten minutes, my assistant noted that we had no other exit except the door to the library.  We spent a few minutes figuring out what was behind each of the other three walls in our oddly-shaped school from the 70's--our read-aloud area to the right, random closet behind us, the library storage closet to the left.  We came to the conclusion that we were probably the safest room in the school during a tornado.

We got a lot done during those trapped hours.  I cut out laminated pieces of a women's history bulletin board, answered emails, made the library newsletter slide for next week, cleaned a few pieces of paper off my desk (not that it made much of a difference), and curated several dozen women's biographies to feature on our MackinVIA ebook homepage.  We discussed upcoming teacher inventory, how March is already planned for; April will be busy with state testing, library month, and the annual librarians' conference; and the last day for checkout in May.  My assistant spent the bulk of her time doing the tedious task of placing stickers on hundreds of Scholastic Book Fair flyers that have to go out next week, before heading to her lunch duty.

Come to think of it, that was the most desk work I've ever accomplished in three-plus hours.  Maybe being trapped wasn't so bad, after all.

Spiritual Journey Thursday: Words to fall back on

Karen is hosting this month, and has asked us to  

reflect on "words we fall back on" this Spiritual Journey Thursday.

Her post is here.

In difficult times, some like to say "This too shall pass."  I prefer the prayer of St Julian of Norwich, part of which is engraved on a spinner ring I bought when I had a lot of plates in the air at once:

"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."

Those words give me hope, and remind me that all experience generally works out for the greater good, the Universe is on my side, "the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice", as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr so eloquently stated.  (Come to think of it, that quote is a great one to fall back on, too.)

Speaking of experience, I just revisited one of my favorite quotes, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson from the poem "Ulysses":

I am a part of all that I have met;

Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'

Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades

For ever and forever when I move.

How dull it is to pause, to make an end,

To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!

I used to just end the quote at "when I move."  But re-reading the stanza, the next two lines speak to me now more than ever--the need to continue moving, learning, reaching for that fading margin.

The actions from our experience lead to some kind of result.  This line from Kelly Barnhill's The Girl Who Drank the Moon will just not let me go:

"Consequences.  Everything was consequences." (page 370)

For now, these are the words I'll fall back on.  That no matter what I'm going through, it will turn out okay.  That it's important to keep going, being mindful that my actions have consequences that can steer my path for better or worse.

Thanks, Karen, for the thought-provoking prompt and the hope it has sparked in my heart.

 

SOLSC '23 Day 2: This old lady

I guess I didn't see it coming, but it's getting clearer year by year.

I am one of the "old ladies" on campus now.

How did this happen?  I started teaching at 21, a baby, really.  Unmarried and childless and still occasionally partying on the weekends.  Was that really so long ago?  I mean, there was the six years of teaching, then the six year hiatus when I finally decided to have those kids...and then the eleven years at the DAEP, and three back in resource, and those seven years behind the circulation desk in my first library, and now in the final few months of year three in this one....

I can't be that old, right?  But it hit me square in the face this year when I found out that one of my assistant principals is a year younger than my oldest child, and I know the principal isn't much older than that. So I started counting how many of my colleagues were most likely over 55...and I'm pretty sure we have less than ten. 

At one point, I looked around the room during a team meeting, and realized that I was the oldest one there, by far.

Me, the old lady on campus.  Can I really be considering retirement in six years...already?

 

SOLSC '23 Day 1: Straws

 

Today is the first day of the 2023 Slice of Life Story Challenge, in which we commit to writing a post daily as well as reading and commenting on the posts of other participants.  I hadn't planned on starting my month with a post on frustration...but it was an apropos end to February, and a nudge to roll up my sleeves and tackle March with a better attitude.  Writing can be so cathartic and therapeutic!  I hope everyone can relate to this poem.

I had a day

When straw

After straw

After straw

Landed 

On my hunched

Shoulders

Furrowed

My brow

Clipped 

My words

Stole

My joy

Even a

Target run

Couldn't stop

The volcanic

Eruption from

My mouth when

I got home

Profanity 

Expressing my

Frustration

I couldn't

Sit down

Until the lava

Slowed

The flames

Doused with

A cold libation

Once again 

Conscious that

Money spent and

A glass poured 

Won't keep the

Problems at

Bay for long

Best to arm myself

With a hot

Shower and a

Good night's

Sleep and

Get the

Pitchfork ready

For tomorrow.

Tuesday Slice: Fifty-six going on six

 

On a whim--or maybe in response to the cruddy first half of February--I bought myself a Pipsticks birthday countdown.  

I'm a paper planner person, and love using stickers in my planner for function and decoration.  These stickers are more the latter than the former.

I struggle with the concept of play in my personal life, but I think my use of stickers qualifies.  I definitely buy them to use, not collect, though I probably have more than I could exhaust in a decade.  (I tend to shop as playtime--a topic for another post.)

As of this today, I'm halfway through the countdown.  It's providing a spark of whimsical joy each morning, and retrospection too, as I fill in the short journaling prompts.  I'm cutting those out to save in a notebook as a little time capsule of fifty-six-going-on-fifty-seven.  Or six-going-on-seven, giggling over a new sheet of stickers each day. 

Tuesday Slice: Two weeks

 

An ice storm threatened central Texas 

on Monday, January 30th. 

This is how it impacted our lives for two weeks;

the work to recover continues.

It's Monday

early morning

blood draw

some masked

some not

(I am)

Work day

temperatures dropping

afterschool cancelled

home office

online meetings

Now Tuesday

Ice starts

husband works

no school

work emails

texts sent

checking in

looking out

trees bending

hunkered down

It's Wednesday

Ice continues

husband home

no school

branches popping

power okay

(cautiously grateful)

warmer forecast

plans confirmed

loud noise

house shakes

open door

tree split

blocked porch

roof landing

plans cancelled

no internet

Overnight rain

couch sleep

damage worries

Thursday comes

no school

no work

more ice

insurance calls

power blinks

weather warms

roof okay

eaves ripped

gutter gone

no internet

help search

Now Friday

no school

no work

widespread damage

tree graveyard

power outages

(ours on)

find help

one fever

positive test

yard cleanup

couch sleep

It's Saturday

another fever

positive test

two sick

yard cleanup

texts sent

calls made

appointment made

couch sleep

Now Sunday

PCR test

tree clearing

all afternoon

large bill

tired bodies

tired minds

bed sleep

Monday comes

schools open

quarantine set

no work

stay home

yard cleanup

log piles

insurance adjuster

check cut

internet back

curbside groceries

Tuesday, finally

rest day

sleep in

virtual doc

take meds

self care

fever leaving

Wednesday, Thursday

at home

fever gone

night cough

little rest

no taste

no smell

laundry done

Friday's here

at work

feel numb

drift through

end of

two weeks

still recovering

more cleanup

to come.