frosty

It's 44 degrees today.

Yesterday it snowed.

I wore a coat and fleece pants to walk the dog.

It's April 13th, well within the Spring season.

I live in Missouri.

Global warming who?

mother bird

If you are one of the two people who read my blog, you have noticed that state testing has been a central focus of recent posts. If not, you should really take the time right now to go back and review. The sarcasm and scathing wit is really not to be missed. I'll wait.

Now that you've caught up, it's time for a confession. Part of why I despise this time of the school year so strongly is because of the doubt. This is the time when I question all of the steps that led me to this point throughout the school year. It boils down to this: Did I do enough?

When he told me he didn't understand, did I find another way to explain it? When her hard work paid off, did I celebrate? When they made mistakes, did I show them grace? When I heard angry words, did I listen for the pain behind them?

I love my kids and I want them to have the best in life, and that includes the best of me. This is the time of the year I have to start loosening my grip on them, fluffing their wings, nudging them to the edge of the nest. So one question overshadows them all: Did I teach them to fly?

unfortunate reality

Tips for how to succeed at state testing:

1. Teach all curriculum by the end of March.

2. Teach only subjects that you will be testing. Science, history, art, music? Not on the test. Not important.

3. Give kids special pencils. They're magic.

4. Do lots and lots of review packets. When your kids are sick of hearing the word "packet", start calling them "review bundles" or "practice presents".

5. Spend money on MAP testing t-shirts for all of the teachers. Ignore the budget crisis. Kids don't need books or desks without duct tape.

6. Bribe.

crunch time

Testing

Thirty-two sharpened number two pencils and a stack of practice tests just arrived in my box. I looked through the tests. Fractions. Decimals. Time. Geometry.

"Eek!" I said out loud. I hadn't taught any of this yet. Will someone please explain to me why we must have everything taught by March? Am I wrong, or aren't there three months left of school?

I gave a big sigh and walked into the classroom.

"Good morning, boys and girls," I said. "I'm afraid I have some bad news. I cannot read to you after lunch anymore. We cannot have any more discussions. I do not have time to look at your stitches or your mosquito bites or your tadpoles. We have to get ready for the test!"

Why do we continue to give these tests? I ask myself. And why are we placing more and more value on them every year? We know that they do not accurately measure what a child really knows. We know that they do not indicate how well a child is doing in school. We know that one of your best math students can fill in one wrong bubble on the answer sheet and get a zero out of ten in math.

One of these days I'm going to get my courage up. When the tests arrive in my mailbox, I'm just going to send them right back with a note saying, "Sorry. Can't do. We're looking at tadpoles today."

- from 32 Third Graders and One Class Bunny
by Phillip Done

staring into grace

I read an article today about Kevin Connolly, a photographer born with no legs who goes around the world taking pictures of the stares that he gets from people. I read the article out of curiosity, which interestingly enough, is the exact same human intuition to which the artist attributes the stares. What stuck with me most from reading about Connolly was that he was not offended by people's stares. It did not make him feel less human. He did not get angry when people's gazes lingered trying to take in the differences they saw. Instead, he chose to recognize a fact that seems so obvious, but one that we often miss: people are human. We're curious. We want to know. It's natural.

How many times did Jesus feel the same way? All around him people stared at, mocked, even attacked him because of his differences. He was unlike anything they had seen. But he knew that they were imperfect. Flawed. Human. And not only did he choose to accept them, he chose to love them. That's grace.

http://www.therollingexhibition.com/

to my two

You keep me real. You speak grace into my life. You accept my awkwardness, my dryness, my doubt. You let me cry about things that are sad and things that are happy. You make me laugh. You keep me young. You talk with me about God and about boys, all in the same conversation. You give advice. You give the best hugs. You give yourself. You make me laugh. You make me forget the rest of the world and its standards. You encourage me at moments I need it most, even without knowing it. You make funny faces. You make me dinner. You make time for me. You make me laugh. You show me the light of Christ in your words and actions. You spill that light into me when I'm around you. You shop, talk, joke, and pray with me. You dream for me even when I can't imagine it for myself.

You make me laugh.

Thanks.

current obsessions

in no particular order...

orbitz sweet mint gum

sudoku puzzles

reality "talent" shows (ie: American Idol, Top Chef, Project Runway)

Jodi Picoult books

real estate I can't afford

NCLB (No Child Left Behind) reform

string cheese

my laptop

"greening" my lifestyle