Last week we needed to reset our expectations a bit. Thursday we talked about what “Act Safely” meant, and of course I pulled out one of my old favorite books: Officer Buckle and Gloria. So many of my students hadn’t ever read it before, which was a pleasant surprise, but also made me realize how old the book is, and in turn, how old I am.

But, whatever. It’s a fun book, and I stand by my choice.

On Friday, we wrote our own safety tips to add to a poster we are making.

Today I went to school and glued the safety tips to the poster.

And I think it’s amazing.

Some of my second-graders stuck to the plan – safety tips for school:
No running in the hallways.
Never stand on a chair.
Call when someone needs help.

Some got right to the dramatic point:
Do not fight.
Do not throw sharp stuff at someone’s eye.

Some were very detailed:
Do not share food.
Never put your hands in your mouth and your fingers in your nose.

Some were more big picture:
Listen to stay safe.
Always work together.
Never hit someone’s heart. You can’t do that ever. Never. Ever.

And a few…A few widened their lens to outside of school:
Never cross the road without looking left and right.
Don’t run out in the road when a car is coming.

And of course, “Safety Tip 100,000,”
never jump off a cliff.

I feel safer already.

Once I was on a committee. We met a lot.

These were the old days. So, sometimes our meetings were in huge conference rooms at the Ramada. Sometimes we met in an old room of an old building that was once a school, and now is, I don’t know – nothing?

We met in big groups, we met in smaller groups. We unpacked standards and literally cut them up to tape them on big posters to help us understand what they meant. We created big umbrella understandings and essential questions. We learned so much. We learned about the standards, about understanding by design, about learning, about curriculum, about teaching, about collaboration…

We didn’t always agree. We even argued. I mean sometimes it got intense.

Have you ever been in a room full of teachers who are passionate about their craft?

Oh, we spoke our minds.

Out loud.

Out loud.

At the end of the year an administrator came to our classrooms in all our different buildings and thanked us in front of our students for taking the time to serve the district, even though it meant writing sub plans, and being out of our classroom. Our students clapped for us.

Then the next year, and for something like a decade more, we met, we worked, we disagreed, we learned. I used to joke that we were really practicing the speaking and listening standards that we were unpacking.

You might laugh at me, but once, in the old days, I was on a committee. We met a lot. We spoke our minds. We learned so much.

The other day we were listening to two books for March Book Madness. One of them was called “The Book that Almost Rhymed,” and my students looked at me excitedly.

“You are going to LOVE this!” One of my kids told me, brightly smiling.

See, my kids know that I love rhyming. In fact, they think I might be the world’s best rhymer. (Shhh… it’s okay if they keep thinking that. I’m fine with that. . . ) They cheer for me when they hear any rhymes. This actually makes sense, because I do like to collect fun rhymes.

By “collect,” I mean I like to smile or laugh, repeat the rhyme a few times, and then accidentally forget it forever more.

We started to get ready to listen to the book, and we heard the title again, “The Book that Almost Rhymed,”

That same bright smiling student shook her head with empathy. She looked at me and said, “I wish it would — for you Ms. Gabriel.”