Honored to Honor

On Monday I delivered a speech at the Induction Ceremony for our school’s chapter of the National Honor Society. Although I passed on the role of Advisor three years ago, I did oversee the program for over two decades so this night was pure nostalgia to speak to current and new members for such a special occasion. There is indeed irony in my position with this elite society, because I was not seen for myself during my tumultuous teenage years. I was a spinning top desperate to escape the abuse or worse the denial from the start of double digits at home yet like a whirling dervish I lived out those years like an outlaw, unsanctioned and lost. But a life can heal even when it can’t forgive. My 31 years of teaching high school English acted as a restorative beyond my expectations. I am here to tell you, being a teacher is gold. You can make a difference. I am indebted to the hundreds of young people who have engaged with me in the pursuit of Literary/Life Analysis: they have taught me much. I can’t recognize the woman I was when I started this career for she became far more than I could have ever dreamt, strong and remarkable.

This blog post is my speech, (at the end of it I include an audio of myself reading it because speeches are meant to be heard.) I hope my simple words elicit hopeful encouragement for anyone.

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Back to School

Today my classroom is filled with teens and words and art and posters and wood and windows open to the ever-changing sky. This place is one that I have spent close to 200 days a year for 3 decades and has evolved some but mostly stayed very much the same. It pulls me back every August and from within this space one can watch all four seasons come into view and famish into the next. There is often laughter and silliness and curiosity and challenges too. We sit in a circle but that changes too. In this English class there are 20 of us forming thoughts and plotting out ideas and becoming a learning community. It feels a bit daunting at the start of any school year, and today is no different. But time, like water, will soften those anxieties and bring us across the rough spots. My room has wood floors and magnificently tall windows. Along the other three walls hangs student art, much of it reflecting a novel’s theme or character, done in a variety of mediums from collage to watercolor to paint, all adding life and color to the century old walls. The blackboards are covered over but I use the space to share various ideas I want students to consider. This year there is now a wall caddy for cell phones, much to the dismay of many who wish not to surrender theirs, but doing so does help keep a semblance of focus. A classroom is a living breathing place which is always worth a look around. I appreciate mine.

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How to Measure a School Year

A school year is measured by quarters, semesters, days rolled into months, just all the typical ways we calculate time. But a better measurement might be the ways in which you celebrate together, with bonfires and field trips and goofy spirit days and community meetings and yes, stimulating classes, institutionalizing camaraderie, learning and joy every day. Let’s consider those moments to gauge time well spent, because this past year, I would say, we nailed it! As with any endeavor with a diverse population in these ever demanding times, there are always challenges, but in reflection, the caring culture of my high school is one I’m quite proud to be part of.

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