I walked into the small town airport bathroom and a young man was fixing his hair.
“Oh!” He said. “Is this the women’s?”
I told him I thought it was, but I didn’t care. We both went to look at the sign outside the door.
“Yep, it’s women’s. But no big deal.” I explained.
He apologized.
He left.
That’s it.
I might have cried a couple times today.
Did you know that kids don’t really know Puff, the Magic Dragon anymore? Well they don’t. Yet another reason I am feeling O. L. D.
Today someone wanted to use the word puff in a poem and I said, “Puff? Like the magic dragon?”
I got blank stares all around although one kid said, “Yea, I think so…”
So I sang a little bit of it, feeling old, wondering why we don’t play a little Peter Paul and Mary anymore.
It was fun to sing with the kids – well not with, but to the kids. Even through they looked at me like I may have finally lost my mind.
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee
Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff
And brought him strings, and sealing wax, and other fancy stuff
So cheery! A magic dragon! But, when’s the last time you listened to that song?
Because, it’s a sad one, dude! SAD!
A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys
Painted wings and giant’s rings make way for other toys
One gray night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more
And Puff, that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar
His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain
Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane
Without his lifelong friend, Puff could not be brave
So Puff, that mighty dragon, sadly slipped into his cave
I might have started tearing up as soon as I sang, “A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys!”
Did I tell you that tomorrow my little boy travels to Spain for like a million days? (Okay, he’s 18 and it’s for a week and a half.)
Today, I might have cried when I was telling him how proud I am of him for all his hard work lately.
Today, I might have cried telling my parents how anxious I was about him traveling so far away.
But my first cry was this morning when I accidentally started singing Puff, the Magic Dragon. So I’m blaming Peter Paul and Mary, I guess.
My “now stop your couch coffee and get up to get ready for school” alarm just blasted on my phone. But, my cat is so cute and sweet and I’m not done with my coffee and also what if I wrote instead of rushing to shower?
Maybe I can pause this morning before I start.
It’s quiet here in my family room, I can only hear the noise of my heater kicking on, and the cat is purring and doing that little squeak meow she likes to do. Aside from those quiet noises, it’s just me, and the clicking of my keyboard. Morning ASMR, I guess.
Any minute the dog will realize I left the bed and I’ll hear his tap tap tap coming down the stairs. I’ll take him out, even though I’m cold just thinking about it. I’ll feed the cat and the dog, grab my laundry from the dryer and head upstairs. I’ll shower and get dressed in my spirit day animal print. (Can you believe I have animal print?) I’ll wake up the teenagers, remind them that it’s trash day, reheat my coffee, cut up an apple to bring to school, fill up my water, yell to the kids to please, for goodness sake come down and give me a hug before I leave. “Don’t forget to take out the trash and recycling!” I’ll probably say, before adding another “I love you! Have a good day!” You can never have enough of those Love You’s called out to grouchy morning teenagers, you know? Then I’ll rush out the door, at least 10 minutes later than I had originally hoped, drive to school with my morning music blasting, and the Monday at school will officially start. I’ll be teaching kids in an hour and a half or so – and that hour and a half will go so very quickly.
Now the cat has gone off to do her cat things again, my coffee got cold halfway through the cup, and I might have heard the dog jump off the bed. But I think the sun is starting to light the morning, so it must be time to actually stop my couch coffee and get up to get ready for school.
But it sure was peaceful, my fleeting morning pause.
Guilt.
I wonder what it feels like
to have
Real Guilt
Capitalized on purpose
Guilt
Betrayed your family
Guilt
Cheated on your wife
Guilt
Committed a crime
Guilt
it’s bad enough
to have
sitting on the couch
guilt.
did I work enough on Sunday
guilt
ordered take out for dinner again
guilt
didn’t take the dog on a second walk
guilt
baby guilt
lower case
guilt
is enough
guilt
for me
The kids are back from special, and it’s our “chill out time.” Soft music plays, the lights are low and everyone does the quiet thing they need to do to get ready for the rest of the day. Some kids are coloring, some are reading, some are resting.
A 7 year old asks me if I want to learn how to make an origami Peter Pan hat he invented. He looks at me with wide expectant eyes.
“Yes. Yes of course I do.”
Yes is the only right answer.
He reaches for the closest paper from my table, a piece of purple from our poetry work. But, I ask him to use orange because every time copies come, there’s more orange paper stuck between the copy sets. We have a lot of orange paper.
He’s fine with orange, but I wonder if I should have offered green. It is Peter Pan, after all.
I have to concentrate to keep up with the directions, but I do it.
“Fold in half.
Fold in half again.
Fold three down in a triangle shape this way.
Fold the other piece down the other way.
Puff it out, and it’s a Peter Pan hat!”
We put our hats on our heads, and pose for a picture.
“What a cool hat you figured out!” I tell him.
He smiles, shakes his head. “The funny thing is, Ms. Gabriel, I just accidentally made this! I wasn’t even trying to make a Peter Pan origami hat!”
Across my table another student looks up and says, “That looks just like the origami boat I know how to make.”
The timer goes off, it’s been 5 minutes already, and now it’s time for math!
March Eve
This blank page will visit me every day next month
tomorrow
and I will remember what my students feel
when they stare at their blank page
so blank
Today we generated ideas for next week’s poetry
and one boy wrote
stuff
stuff
stuff
like he was an advertisement for a tired second-grader
resistant
not to writing but to directions
I wrote a terrible poem today with my class
but they liked it
with smiles and laughter
chatter chatter chatter
which just goes to show you
that the writer often doesn’t know
what the reader will like
In reading today, my student teacher asked
How do you feel when you read?
What emotions do books give you?
I watched as kids wrote the words
calm, happy, funny
I listened to one student say
That doesn’t make any sense, there are no emotions
inside
a book!
Which just goes to show you
that the reader often doesn’t know either
So tomorrow there won’t be school
Saturday
Saturday
Saturday
But I will still feel what my students feel when they
stare at
the
blank
page
and then,
then I will write
stuff
My therapist insists I’m not lazy
But she hasn’t seen my corner cabinet
It’s been organized, I swear
But the Tupperware –
which is actually Chinese Food containers mostly –
It just falls wherever it wants,
also do you expect me to lift the smaller ones to put the larger ones underneath
every
time?
It’s a Lazy Susan cabinet
which what the heck
lazy is in it’s name
I wonder what Susan’s therapist thinks about that
This morning
every morning
when I walked into the kitchen, I saw
Lazy Susan
had swung open
Not only does she drop my lids into her abyss
She also can’t stay closed to save her life
Or maybe I didn’t close her last night
And I wondered if my cabinet is trying to teach me something
like patience
or patience adjacent
like perseverance
determination
or maybe not to keep all the Chinese Food leftover containers
or maybe to stop overthinking, you’re thinking
Don’t get me started on my bottom drawer
The baking drawer
Where cocoa powder spilled
I think a year ago
Luckily, I don’t have time for baking anymore
Years ago when I was a coach, a first-grade teacher told me she loved moving to first grade from the upper grades once her own kids were older.
She had an eloquent way of explaining it, and I don’t want to misquote her… but it had something to do with how primary kids still show you how they love you and need you and think you’re great.
Teenagers…well… not so much.
Living by myself with my two amazing teenagers is something.
Wow.
Thank goodness I go to school every day with 6,7 and 8 year olds who draw me pictures, want me to tell them stories, and to listen to all the parts of their day. My students more often than not think I have the right answer. They even laugh at my jokes and love my songs!
I’ll say it again, every day 19 kids laugh at my jokes, love my songs, and learn from the things I teach them.
And then I go home.
If you ever need to knock someone’s self-worth, self-confidence, self-esteem down several pegs, I recommend having them become a single-mom to a few teenage boys.
Most days I’m reminded in multiple ways from a few of my most favorite people, that I’m not funny, not cool, not smart, not right, and that in fact, I’m ruining their otherwise fine day in some way.
I’d love to pivot here and tell you about the good parts to. I’d love to tell you how when we had our recent power outage those very same teenage boys helped change smoke detector batteries, find flashlights and take the dog out in the dark-no-street-lights-no-porch-lights-no-house-lights night. But, this is no place to write about the nice times.
Instead, I’ll have you imagine that power outage, and how one of the only flashlights I could find was my old headlamp. So I wore it around the house, as I tried to make sure we were doing all the things we needed to do, and taking care of all the things we needed to take care of.
“Why are you acting so crazy about this?” One teenager kept asking me.
“It’s not that deep.” I was reminded.
And my favorite…
“Why do you have that on your head? You look like a f!@#ing angler fish.”
I can’t stop thinking about this comment I saw –
let it go, I know
but
This curriculum coach I don’t even know
wrote something I must be misunderstanding
in a facebook group I don’t even like
and like what
is
going
on
with teaching, right?
She said, and I quote,
“Our goal is…
not asking students to write
but showing them how.”
and now
I’d say I don’t have the words
but I actually have a lot of
words
for cowards
who don’t know what they are talking about
but tell people what to do
who let ships sink saying
they believe in something that isn’t true
who put kids last
last!
explaining how
their misguided data is skewed
On the other hand
I’m glad that the goal isn’t for students to write
that would be like, so,
like,
hard
to fit in
I’ve got worksheets to cover
Skills to
explain
calls for my kids to respond to
in unison
not to mention the grammar
and fill in the blanks
my days are packed, man
just like those
assessments
Don’t tell anyone that I um
secretly teach
kids who write poetry just when they speak
they make stories with blocks, legos, and play
run mini book making factories
throughout the day
my underground workshop is hard to
fit in
but it’s kinda my job
to keep teaching
even when
cowards on Facebook
spew official
advice
luckily it’s not really my job anymore
to pretend to be nice
I forgot to wish
As I watched
The wishing star
Shooting star
Fireball
Streak across the sky
My slow brain wondered
What is that?
Is that a shooting star?
A bright ball of glow
Green tail, almost neon
Came so close to the horizon I was sure I’d see an explosion of light
Hear a boom
But it just
Stopped
Ended silently
I was so struck
by the magic
I forgot to use it
A shame because
I could use a wish
(or two)
the musings of a high school science teacher
Tales of a Doc student's readings
erratic thoughts too loud for lines
Small slices of my life, in one place!
Celebrating the Randomness of Life
On a Thought 