Tonight, A Little Poem

my daughter’s mouth

is remarkable.

smooth and supple, it shapes itself

into an o and grows to an ah –

anticipates a plastic ring.

the tender mollusk tongue

neatly folds and unfolds

around the object

blind in sensation;

the method of

touch slow and exact.

she traces glistening lines

until a soft wetness coats

anything more to be learned

and the tongue retreats,

slips back behind her shell

silent in its knowing.

Better Living Bit by Bit

Yesterday, my husband put sprinklers in our back yard. It's one of a thousand tiny steps to making our house and life more livable. Our house is over a hundred years old with a lot of issues. We live in a "dynamic state" and, between the big renovations, we're always making minute improvements that will make things easier, more efficient, or just more pleasant. Things like installing recessed lights in the basement. The ceiling looks so high now! Nipping off all of the nail points that were sticking out under the eaves. So smooooooth! Organizing the baby changing station. Everything in reach!

Installing sprinklers took about half the day and a lot of manual labor plus problem-solving sessions, but our lives just got slightly easier. Looking forward to turning the knob this weekend instead of standing outside holding the hose over my hydrangeas and grass seedlings. Incremental changes eventually build to a big change... at least that's the mantra we keep chanting.

Loving Work

What would it take to make you love your work?

This was a question posed at a workshop I attended on culture. Culture of a school, of an educational service agency, of an organization, etc. All of the leadership team at my work attended, and it actually did do some good. As many of us know, gone are the days of people working 9-5 at the same job for 30 years. People move around, take on new positions, pursue more entrepreneurial endeavors, and so on, so it takes some work to create community and a positive culture in a workplace.

Millenials are often more concerned with their title than than past generations, so making sure their title really reflects what they do and who they are can be important for their satisfaction. More flexible hours and the opportunity to work remotely factor in when caretaking is a concern. I'm fortunate to work in a place that is responsive to these types of requests. I am on a 180-day contract (like a teacher) but the days are spread over the entire year, so I can have most Fridays off to spend time with my new baby. Some of my colleagues have those neat monitors that go up and down so they can sit or stand when they're working at their desk. I've also spotted a couple of those weird ergonomic chairs.

Honestly, I already do love my work, but I've been wondering about this question in terms of classrooms. What would it take to make students love learning? Classroom, content, creativity, choice, community, meeting outside needs, time....   I used to do a little of this thinking with classes at the beginning of the year when we created norms. But what else might there be to it? What are we missing?

An Earwax Flavored Jellybean

An earwax flavored jellybean is a beautiful thing.

An earwax flavored jellybean is a beautiful thing when it's shared between two people.

An earwax flavored jellybean is a beautiful thing when it's shared between two people as they stroll down Main Street.

An earwax flavored jellybean is a beautiful thing when it's shared between two people as they stroll down Main Street, the street lamps just beginning to glow.

An earwax flavored jellybean is a beautiful thing when it's shared between two people as they stroll down Main Street, the street lamps just beginning to glow in the cool Spring air against a violet sunset.

An earwax flavored jellybean is a beautiful thing when it's shared between two people as they stroll down Main Street, the street lamps just beginning to glow in the cool Spring air against a violet sunset; they grimace and cough at the disgusting taste.

An earwax flavored jellybean is a beautiful thing when it's shared between two people as they stroll down Main Street, the street lamps just beginning to glow in the cool Spring air against a violet sunset; they grimace and cough at the disgusting taste before bursting into laughter, disturbing the birds in the cherry blossom tree overhead.

An earwax flavored jellybean is a beautiful thing.

Happy Spring!

Today was the first day of Spring and the first meal we've eaten outside this season. I know many of my New England compatriots are still stuck under snow, but in Walla Walla we are ringing in Spring whole heartedly!

I began springtime doing something completely ridiculous. I first put my 8 month old in a tutu crafted by her grandmother. I then stuffed her into an Easter basket, placed that basket in my flower bed, crushing what was left of the crocuses, and took a bunch of pictures. My sister-in-law is a newborn photographer, and I'm nowhere near her caliber, but out of maybe 30 shots, I got one good enough to throw on a card to her grandparents. Mission, accomplished.

We then took a long walk to get bagels. I wish I brought the camera because Spring had sprung. Bulbs were blooming everywhere: crocuses, daffodils, tulips, hyacinths, cherry blossoms, and more whose names I don't know. I grew up in Florida, and there, I know the names of most flora you might encounter. In Walla Walla, I'm a newbie. I'm trying hard to learn the names of the flowers and trees here, but there are so many I didn't know in the south. All of the aforementioned bulbs, for instance. These are bulbs that have to freeze in the ground in order to bloom, so naturally, they don't live in tropical climates.

Finally, we welcomed Spring by having dinner al fresco. Walla Walla has one of the great old downtown Main Streets you might imagine in old films. Many of the restaurants have outdoor seating, and it's a joy to be able to sit there again, taking in the waning light while talking and laughing with friends.

After a long winter, stepping out and noticing everything that's come back to life is such a treat. I feel like I'm coming back to life, too.

Two Lessons I Learned from the Japanese (Part 2)

Yesterday, I wrote about a lesson I learned from the Japanese when I lived in Japan. I'm not re-creating the blog I kept while I lived there, but upon reflecting back, I've realized that my time there resulted in two big lessons that have persisted. Yesterday's post was about the ability to listen and be judicious with my words.

Today, I pulled out a bookmark that one of my Japanese students made for me. It lives in my desk. Even though I don't look at it every day, I think of it. I know it's there.

It says "ichi go ichi e" which can be translated (loosely) to mean "one time, one meeting." It's an idiom that expresses the cultural concept of cherishing the moment because that moment can never happen again. Even if you meet with the same person at the same park bench, something will make it different: the slant of the light, things on your mind, the conversation you have. This idea of being present, and noticing the details that make a moment special, has stayed with me. It doesn't mean I write in my journal every day or that I take tons of pictures to capture every moment; it simply means that I try hard to notice when a moment is happening and appreciate it.

I studied haiku with a haiku club while I was there too. Haiku clubs are comprised primarily of grandmas and grandpas who take walks in the park then write haiku. But the craft of haiku marries the two lessons from this and yesterday's posts. It helped me to internalize the practice of noticing details and moments, and also to be exact with words. We often teach haiku as just a string of syllables (5, 7, 5), but there are many more rules than that including volumes of specific seasonal words to be used at different times of year. The most important thing a haiku does, however, is that it takes a moment then flips it around in a surprising and transcendent way. This is really hard to do well, especially with so few syllables. I don't know whether Japan or haiku can lead to inner peace, but it's a start. If you've never felt the power of haiku (or obsessed over such a short verse), read the one below with Billy Collins's poem about his interaction with it. Collins expresses it better than I could.

http://www.ayearofbeinghere.com/2013/03/billy-collins-japan.html

Two Lessons I Learned from the Japanese (Part 1)

I lived in Japan for two years teaching English at a Japanese High School. No, I wasn't in the JET program. I was a teacher, just like foreign language teachers here in the US. I kept a blog during my time there and reflected on experiences big and small, Japanese and non-Japanese, positive and negative. It was a wonderful adventure.

But that was five years ago. Now that time has passed and the wheel of change has rolled on to include moving across the country, getting married, having a baby, and taking a new job, I've realized despite the many memories I cherish from my time in Japan, there are two big lessons I learned from the Japanese.

"Let's all be quiet"

First, I learned to shut up and listen. This is a lesson that my parents and teachers had been trying to teach me my entire life. I'm a talker. I used to talk incessantly, always jumping in first, always processing as words fell from my mouth rather than thinking. Sometimes this practice was fine; sometimes it definitely was not. I spent most of second grade out in the hallway for talking too much. My desk in ninth grade English class was pulled up next to the filing cabinet, separated from the other students. Poor Mrs. Brown, my senior Psychology teacher, moved my assigned seat all over the room trying to get me to stop talking so much. Finally, I explained to her that every time she moved me, I met someone new, which caused me to want to talk with them even more. Needless to say, she did not appreciate my explanation.

When you move to a foreign country without knowing the language, however, you learn to listen. (Side note: I recommend learning the language prior to moving. I guess that's another lesson learned!) I lived in a rural part of Japan where English speakers were scarce, so no matter how much I wanted to say, it didn't matter because no one could understand me anyway. It was kind of a trial by fire; never had I been so frustrated by the inability to get my point across. So I stopped. Until I could speak Japanese, I didn't bother. Then, as I learned the language, I had to choose my words carefully. I didn't know many words yet and it was an arduous task to string together a sentence, so I had to narrow my input to only the most important ideas. I suppose it's not that I learned to be quiet, but rather that I learned to listen more carefully than ever before and to be economical in my speech. This has served me in the classroom in a couple of ways. I don't fear the silence it takes for people to think. I am amazing at wait time now. And, my directions are clear and precise. I use few words to explain procedures and expectations, which I think goes a long way, especially with the adult learners I work with now who sometimes seem to have even more trouble listening than I did in Mrs. Brown's class.