Grammatical Issues

I am okay with children and their grammatical issues, but my tolerance for adults is rather low.

Here are some things that really get to me:

• Good is an adjective; well is an adverb. You are not doing good unless you are feeding the homeless and doing good works.
• Every day is two words unless it's used as an adjective. Open everyday is not correct! Everyday sale is correct.
• Affect is a verb (almost always); effect is a noun.
• ______ and I is not always correct--this only works in the nominative/subjective case. Objective case requires me. PBS Kids gets this wrong a lot.  
• Bring and take. Yes, Virginia, there is a difference. Bring ____ to me. Take ____ away from me.

Twilight

The purplish gray light shines, welcoming twilight. Standing out on the back deck, we  see each other in a newly wedded ambient light. His hair shines. His eyes glow. He says, “I love twilight—not day and not quite night.” He sighs a sigh of contentment. Our eyes lock. We go into inside to be alone together. The light of love shines across the room. Our only commitment right now is to each other. Life is all about us; everything else can wait. We enjoy each other. The papers to grade can wait. Dinner can wait. We relish in our love. We relish in each other.

The purplish light shines, signaling twilight. Dang. I’m late again. Just leaving school after an afternoon of paperwork and yearbook. “I’m on my way, honey,” I say. He sighs a sigh of disappointment, “I’ve already fed the kids.” My papers couldn’t wait. Dinner couldn’t wait.

Twilight, a time of change. Twilight. I long for twilight. I long for a time to just be. A time without routine commitments. A time to languish in my love for my husband. A time to let go and be the lover, the wife, the person I should be. A time to be in a moment and let go of all other moments. Time passes. I miss twilight. I long for it, but I do little to seek it out. I am caught up in commitments and to dos and am letting go of the sacredness of a moment. A moment that passes too quickly.

The purplish gray light shines, signifying twilight—in the backyard I stand with the dog. The kids are inside. Mike is inside with them.  I look at the sky and think back to a time when twilight was freedom. Twilight was a time with no to dos, no commitments, no children. Twilight was a time when we were all that mattered…

Twilight with its forgiving light shining on me, gives me hope. I must find the light of twilight in all its sacredness of twilight, that light that shines so briefly and so beautifully, so sacredly.

The Art of Answering

With Apologies to Naomi Shihab Nye for my copy change sort of adaptation of  her poem "The Art of Disappearing"

http://audiopoetry.wordpress.com/2006/09/14/the-art-of-disappearing/

When they say
Aren't you over it?
say no.
When they start trashing other faculty members
remember how we all need to be met where we are
before answering.
Think of the stressors teachers are dealing with--loss of a loved one,
marital problems,
sick children,
loneliness,
too many preps,
burnout,
furlough days,
cutbacks,
struggles,
the call of common core,
district pressure--
Then reply.

If they say I hate this school,
I can't stand him or her
say why--why don't you try to change that hate?
It’s not that you don’t find the teacher she is speaking of annoying,
the one who sits in her chair yelling at children
or that other teacher griping all the time a demoralizer
or people's weaknesses in your school,
including your own tough to handle.
You’re trying to let go of the hate--and
remember something
too important to forget.
Students.
Their bright eyes when they get it.
Their excitement they can hardly contain their engagement.
The time a student was excited when she "really" thought
she was going to watch paint dry with you.
Their pains.
Their troubles.
Their struggles.
Their joy.
Their successes.
Their growth.
The future.
The love of learning without ever ceasing.
The reasons we're here.
The reasons we care.
Gently sigh...then,
tell them you have copies to make,
papers to grade, a student to talk to,
a new unit to create, a novel to write.
Your work will never be finished.

When a gossipy teacher spots you alone
in the teacher's lounge,
nod happily and become an orange,
brighten her day with inspirational stories
of the reasons your there.

When someone seeks you out
and you can find no table to hide under,
no copy machine to hide behind,
tell them all the good things
about your school.
Walk around being that bright happy orange.
Share the thoughts of the good you see around you,
knowing your school's future depends on it.
Maybe she will catch up or catch on,
And not drop a ton of morale killing bricks
taking you down with her,
to the slumps of teaching.
Then, maybe she will get over it
or leave for good.

My literary muse reading her poem: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xc20u2_naomi-shihab-nye-the-art-of-disappe_creation

Christy Rush-Levine

Christy Rush-Levine,

her words are devine.

She’s commented on so many posts.

She’s the one I’d like to honor most.

Her blogging with pictures is infused,

Sometimes I am left confused.

By the all the places her mind goes,

Deep reflection from her it shows.

In her 30s only, it’s hard to believe,

She catches her thoughts, so they don’t go through a sieve.

I wish I had found my words in the last decade.

Perhaps, a better writer and teacher, I would have been made

I think you are all amazing.

For being a part of this SOLS crazing.

Kennesaw Mountain Writing Project planted the seed.

Now you all at SOLS are helping me to write and read.

And become the teacher and person I should be.

Thanks to you all from me.

Exhausted...

I am exhausted. You know, I work teachers' hours, so how would that be.  My desk, I can't find it under the mass of papers. Even the chair by my desk sometimes has papers in it because I don't sit there, either. I have a hard time keeping up with everything. Yearbook, teaching, grading, planning, family....

Life is busy. I am exhauted.

Mentor Sentences Rock!

For two years Jeff Anderson's book on my shelf had been a fleeting thought, a quick resource for a short grammar activity. Without knowing how to make his ideas work, I resorted to the daily grammar warm ups like others in my school and everywhere. Still, though, I wondered how I would make the grammar in context work, but I couldn't quite get it, since I had never seen it.  

After spending a day with Jeff Anderson at a conference, his idea of mentor sentence warm ups for grammar clicked, and I let go of the suffocating shackles of skill and drill non-contextual grammar instruction. The next day I removed those shackles from my ankles, and moved forward with mentor sentences. Letting go of that boring, trite, and tiresome grammar practice was like dumping a bad boyfriend.  

What do we do now?

We notice what real authors do.

We compare and contrast the writing of published authors and the teacher.

We create our own mentor sentences.

We edit real writing.

We transfer our knowledge to our own writing---IT'S AMAZING!

Breaking into verse...

I am free to be me, 

free to play with

words,

free to celebrate

language,

free to foster

thought,

free to promote 

inquiry,

free to engage

children, 

free to let learning 

happen,

free to let students

share their own knowledge,

free to share my own 

writing,

free to celebrate 

student writing,

free to keep 

it real,

free to build the bridge 

that transfers to real learning,

free to be

me.

Thanks to Jeff Anderson. Mentor sentences rock!

She Reminds Me

“Push me on the swing;

don’t grade papers.”

She counts my pushes,

And floats to the sky

Legs pumping up in the air,

“1-2-3-4-5…98-99-100.”

She reminds me,

to put the papers away and play.

“Mawmee, let’s be girl pirates now."

“Ahoy matey!” I respond

in a pirate’s voice.

“No, we are girl pirates;

Use a normal voice.”

She reminds me

To be myself.

Off with the iPhone,

My backyard 4-year-old

Photographer captures

Pink petals of azaleas,

Nature’s beauty revealed,

She reminds me

To look for beauty in all things.

In the sandbox,

Shoes off despite

The chilly air

Raking the sand

Creating her own labyrinth,

A peaceful pattern of play.

She reminds me

To not see a maze of confusion
and to find peace and solace

in the world around me.

My little mini-me

Curly locks and pure sweetness,

Arm rested on me,

Head nuzzled in the crook of my arm.

Little voice calling, “Mawmee,”

In her endearing way.

She reminds me

To stop, rest, and relax.

“Mawmee, I love you,”

bright eyes behind her curly locks

look adoringly my way,

she hugs me

and she reminds me

how to love.