Category Archives: Slice of Life

A Slice of When I grow up

Reflections on teaching, Slice of Life
Slice of LIfe

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

What do you want to be when you grow up?

I wanted to be an actress. 

Well, when I was young, I wanted to be a teacher.

But then I started drama class in 5th grade – and by the time I was in high school, I’m pretty sure I answered that question with “actress.” Although, once you get to high school, people mostly stop asking you, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” They start asking you, “What do you want to go to college for?” 

And I was in love with the theatre. I even spelled it theatre.

Always have, always will. 

I was a very serious theatre student. I even tried to join the choir — though I’ve never been able to carry a tune. (Yet?) 

“I need to learn to sing.” I told the choir director. And she looked at me like I had two heads, and made me sing The Star Spangled Banner while she accompanied me on the piano. 

I really can’t do that – sing to someone playing all those notes and chords. Not being able to sing was why I wanted to learn to sing. Duh.

It was embarrassing, and I remember thinking, Seriously, which of the thousand notes that she’s playing does she want me to sing? I told her I can’t sing! 

But, I was a serious theatre student, so I tried my best. For maybe one semester. And then I decided I could just be a lover of straight plays. Who needs musicals? People don’t just start singing their life, so I don’t need to sing on stage! 

(Once I did have to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star in a play. I remember my director trying so hard to help me. I think I caught her rolling her eyes and sighing once. But I totally get it. I mean, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star? I didn’t have the confidence to just sing Twinkle Twinkle?)

I only had one dream bigger than my dream of becoming a professional actress. I needed to go to Penn State. It wasn’t because my parents went to Penn State (They did). It wasn’t because I loved football (definitely not a football fan). It wasn’t for the parties (I’m not a big partier). But, I did grow up in State College until right before 5th grade, and I imagined that going to Penn State would be like going back home finally. I applied to the college of Education as my backup plan, and then got ready to audition for the Theatre program. Remember, I was a serious Theatre student! I sent in my video monologue, and drove to State College for my live audition.

Spoiler alert: I did NOT get into the Penn State Theatre program. Oh, I cried so much! I called them to see why, and that’s another slice entirely. But at the end of the conversation they said “Well, you were already accepted to the College of Education, so at least you have a place at Penn State!” 

Yay. So that’s what I got for having a backup plan, I guess! 

I don’t remember exactly why I wanted to be an actress. I remember enjoying it for sure. But I don’t remember why I loved it. It’s been a long time.

I do remember why I love teaching. I remember it every time I have kids in front of me, every time I plan a lesson, every time I collaborate with teachers, every time I lead Professional Development, every time I read aloud.

It’s almost like I was meant to be a teacher. It’s almost like the universe knew! That’s pretty cool.

The ironic thing is that when I’m with kids – just me and them… what I often do is… sing! I sing pop songs, I make up lyrics. I go all out. One year I had my 6th grade class pretty convinced that I was actually a famous singer, whose agent would be soooo mad if she heard I had sung in public without selling tickets. 

A while ago someone told me the world was lucky I became a teacher and didn’t become the next Julia Roberts. I think it was a backhanded compliment, but since she’s neither the next Julia Roberts nor a teacher, it just makes me smile. Especially because now whenever I want to, I like to say “Big mistake! Big! HUGE!”

There are, surprisingly, many times in life for that scene — even if I just play it in my head. 

A slice of the dark

Slice of Life
Slice of LIfe

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teacher

Tonight, I walked in the snow in the dark.
This might seem like nothing to you, but I’m a little scared of the dark.

It’s like when I drove to Vermont about 20 years ago, all by myself and arrived at my friends house in the dark. She wasn’t home – I knew she would still be at work -just down the road. It was thundering, and pitch black, aside from the intermittent lightning. My friend lived across the street from a lake. So on one side of the street there was the blankness of a lake in the dark, and on the other side of the street, her old giant Vermont farmhouse.

This might seem like nothing to you, but I’m a little scared of the dark.

Her house was dark too. Nobody was home. There were a few of those candle shaped lights in a few of the windows.

I can’t remember if I remembered at that moment all the ghost stories I had been told about this house. This haunted house. I was parked at my friend’s old, haunted house in Vermont across from a pitch black lake.

But I do remember that I had to pee. I had been driving for hours, and I really had to pee.

So, quite unlike myself, I walked from my car to the door in the dark, with thunder in the distance, and lightning lightening the pitch black lake for just a few seconds at a time. I let myself in the dark, haunted farmhouse. I felt my way up the dark steps, hoping I’d stumble across a bathroom. I found the bathroom, peed in the dark. I do not know why I didn’t turn a light on. I felt my way back down the steps, where I found a note from my friend giving me directions to where she was. I got back in my car, looked up at the candle lit windows, and drove down the road to find my friend.

This might seem like nothing to you, but I’m a little scared of the dark.

Tonight I walked because I wanted to get out of the house for a bit, and wanted to get just a few more steps in. I walked by myself in the dark, even though I didn’t have to pee. Even though we had just watched a pretty scary episode of Stranger Things just a half hour before, even though I am a little scared of the dark.

So basically, I’m invincible now.

A Slice of Rapunzel and her Witch

poetry, Slice of Life
Slice of LIfe

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teacher

Nothing is happening here.
It’s like Rapunzel’s tower – only if Rapunzel had 3 kids up there with her.

We are missing travel especially
We all want out of this house, out of this town –
Our last travel was in March.
We drove to Georgia, with a few extra Clorox wipes for the cabin.
and drove back with official word that school was remote,
and unofficial word that if we saw toilet paper at a store on the drive back to Pennsylvania,
we should buy it.

March.
March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December.
10 months.
No wonder I’m thinking about Rapunzel in her tower.

“Nothing is happening here.”
She might have said
Or maybe her witch said it.
Does Rapunzel’s witch have a name?
At this point the actual fairy tales, fractured fairy tales
villain-side fairy tales
and Into the Woods
All run together. 

Rapunzel’s witch was not really stuck in the tower, right?
She came and went.
No. No. I’m not actually jealous of the witch!
I’ve always felt bad for her –
An aging woman, desperate for love and youth
Misunderstood

But, I mean, she came and went as she pleased, right?
She used her power to trap Rapunzel
She was a predator.
An aging, desperate predator.
I wonder if she would have stayed -quarantined in the tower with Rapunzel
If there were covid 19 at the bottom

But Rapunzel?
She was stuck.

March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December.
10 months.
No wonder I’m thinking about Rapunzel in her tower.

A Slice of a New Kid (in Middle School)

poetry, Slice of Life, Uncategorized
Slice of LIfe

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teacher

New Kid (in Middle School) 

Were you ever 
the new kid?
In middle school -
In the maze of a huge 
Middle school?

Did you ever 
Look at the sea
Of faces floating
Down the hallways of
Middle school?

Was there
A Heather*
You wanted as a friend?
Popular, pretty, nice -- in
Middle school?

I was.
I did. 
There was.

One night
The phone rang
it was her!
“Come tomorrow after school … stay for dinner!” 
I was new and I was invited! 

The next day
I was pumped
In middle school
Tried to make eye contact with Heather
All day

I needed to know --
Her bus number...
What we would do...
Where we should meet
After school

The last bell rang
Without eye contact yet
We hadn’t spoken yet
The invitation was fake
Not from Heather, or maybe it was.

Did you ever 
Get fake invited
In middle school?
In the maze of a huge 
Middle school?

Was there 
a time
When you knew 
some people are cruel? 
In middle school?

I did. 
There was. 

5th Grade
In the sea of faces
Popular, pretty, nice faces --
The lessons of
Middle School 


*Name changed even though I really didn't want to. 🙂

What will you do with it?

pandemic, Slice of Life
Slice of LIfe

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teacher

For some reason I’m thinking about wine tonight…

A few weeks ago I was at Wegmans at the end of the day and I threw some of their $6 wine into my cart before getting into line. I only do this when the “alcohol permitted” lines aren’t long, but the week is.

A woman approached me and scootched her mask down below her chin. She had an accent, heavy and thick. She spoke in a loud, friendly, slightly halting voice.

“Did you take — this?” She said as she held up a bottle of wine. Her friend stood a few feet behind her.

I must admit, I was taken aback. I wondered if she was asking me if I took it out of her cart. I have this mild, irrational fear that I will accidentally take someone else’s cart, or put my stuff into someone else’s cart. And even though I’ve never worried that I’ll take something out of someone’s cart, it seemed plausible because of her tone.

“Did you take this? This? From there?” She pointed at the wine display. Her friend walked over to the display.

“Oh. Yes. I did.” I was still confused, but didn’t feel like I was in trouble anymore.

“What will you do with it?” She asked me, leaning in. Her friend looked at me, intrigued.

“What will I do with it?”

“Yes, what will you do with it?”

This is when I wondered if I might be on some sort of “teacher caught buying wine on a week night” candid camera show.

I thought for a moment, about my week, my day, my remote coaching job, my remote learning kids, the world, the coming election. I thought about the $6 wine in my cart. I looked at the woman and her friend and raised my eyebrows, still trying to figure out what this was all about.

“I’m going to drink it!” I said with a big, not too-sarcastic smile. I think I might have taken an imaginary swig from the bottle.

“You will drink it?!” She said, as she turned the bottle around to show me the list of foods on the back. “But. All of this. Here.”

Finally, I understood. She just didn’t know if the wine was a drink or an ingredient!

“Ahhhh!” I said, with that feeling of relief you get when you finally understand. “I think those are the pairings… the things you might eat with the wine!”

I would like to note that I did not add that I actually prefer my wine with a bowl of chips or popcorn.

Now every time I get a bottle of wine, her voice comes back to me.

“What will you do with it?”

From my chair on a Tuesday

Slice of Life
Slice of LIfe

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teacher

From my chair I see
(I kinda don't want to paint this picture for you)

A double dog crate, with 2 cats lounging safe from the dog
On top of the crates:
The printer, a stack of paper and a pile of new ink cartriges
Cat food
Cat treats
Magnet letters
A basket of bags of magnets - sorted to maybe give away, but what if I need them for school one day?
Extra curriculum books that need to be returned. 
Empty binders 
A lapdesk, folded with a vague plan to make it part of a diy standing desk because this is a lot of sitting

Next to the crates, 
A ladder perched to finish the electical work for the new router placement.
My bulletin board propped up against the wall it used to hang on.

From my chair I see
My desk, with 1 dog pretending to lounge but really tring to see the cats. 
On top of my desk:
Grade 1 phonics
Grade K writing 
I spy cards - I thought they'd be fun to use with kids, but when I looked more closely, they are just creepy. 
Glasses cleaner
Glasses cleaner cloths - 3 of them. 
A box of tissues
My ballot - must drop off tomorrow! (Feel free to bug me about this) 
2 staplers. Why 2? 
A rainbow of pens, now out of their fidgeted rainbow order. 
My earrings from today
Stickers: Still Growing, Coffee is always a good idea, I am a teacher who writes
Stickies: Call dentist, Find Joy, piles of blanks
A word wall card: at
earbuds
My computer
2 lamps
A document camera
A mug of cold tea: "Write your own story"
1/3 of a can of lemon lime seltzer
A dog training collar beeper, at the ready. 

From my chair I see
A mess --
A perfect metaphor for my mind

Scattered Slice of Remote Coaching

Reflections on coaching, Slice of Life
Slice of LIfe

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teacher

My butt hurts from so much sitting.

Remote Coaching.

Also, I have brain whiplash from so many transitions in one day.

Remote Coaching.

There’s something discombobulating about going from a meeting to meeting to meeting, switching gears and then POP! switching gears again to talk to Kindergarteners about how writers can write books with a bunch of pages, using words they know in a snap to write sentences!

Writing Sentences! Today Mr. Thought said something about the complex work I do each day, only he said it as I was repositioning the sticky note of the word is and at on my chart. I mean, definitely teaching kindergarten writing is a complex chart, but it was still ironic.

Then POP! Back to meetings about teaching and data and SLOs (and also can you believe they made this decision and do you know what is going on and why are things like this? Because teachers are breaking a little bit, friends…)

Then POP! Kids again.

Remote Coaching.

I don’t know if floobergated is a word you are familiar with, or just one of those words from my childhood, but I work hard to not be floobergated each day. Here are some tips if you happen to be a Remote Coach: *

  1. Reheat your coffee in between meetings, this is like a walk, even if it is to the microwave
  2. Don’t feel guilty if you have a gingersnap with that coffee
  3. Don’t feel guilty if it is actually 4 gingersnaps. They are almost like breakfast
  4. Stretch
  5. Breathe
  6. Drink water
  7. Text a friend in between meetings for music recommendations and play that music during any work times that you can have music playing in the backyard
  8. Plan walks with a friend for after your after school meetings. (Actually go on those walks too! Crunch acorns if you can)
  9. Keep a post it available to jot down any small thing that brings you joy (You don’t have to post videos of this joy but that is fun too)
  10. Drink more water

*Full Disclosure, I work hard to not get floobergated or discombobulated, but this does not actually mean I am successful at it.

Remote Coaching.

A Slice from the Porch (with a Pooch!)

Pets, Slice of Life
Slice of LIfe

Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers

Up and bark and run and down. Repeat.

My dog won’t stop with the crazy barking tonight. I mean, the other dogs up the street won’t stop either, I think they started it. But it doesn’t matter. Every time someone walks by, or a bird lands too close, or someone is walking their dog on our street, or he thinks maybe a chipmunk is under the bush, Finnegan jumps off of his chair to leap into the yard and bark.

“He’s on a lead!” I yell. Mostly because I accidentally bought a clear lead. And invisible leads don’t instill much confidence in passerbys.

Maybe the dogs up the street are a bad influence.

Maybe I’m a bad dog mom.

Maybe he’s tired. He started with a new trainer today, and he had to learn new rules.

I’m annoyed, but I think there is probably a metaphor for life somewhere here: on my porch with my dog. (A porch pooch!)

I’m sure there’s meaning here because now that I’ve written it all out he has jumped back on his chair, given me a few weighty sighs, looked at me with droopy puppy dog eyes and he might, just might be falling asleep.