Leveraging Learning

 In real school, teachers have ways of getting to know kids. It's a thing we try to do intentionally, but, like everything else is subjective and sometimes problematic.  In virtual school - "fake school" as my kids have taken to calling it - all the regular methods are gone. We don't know what all of our kids look like, or how they sound, or what styles they wear or even their handwriting. I miss these things and joke all the time with kids "If I ran into you in the grocery store, we would not recognize each other!" And yet, a year into this fake school, I notice that there are different things I know about kids, which makes me question some of the old ways. It's easy to say to a kid - "gee, I love those shoes!" - and it isn't without merit. The kid feels noticed and I begin to think of my next shoe purchase. But there is a superficial quality to these exchanges, that now that we can no longer rely upon, I miss less and less. In place of th...

I like to help. It's an annoying feature of who I am - just ask those closest to me. For as many times as I hear "thanks, that would be great," I hear "I got this." Perhaps it's not a one to one ratio. I should probably count... Practical help is the help I give best. In school, that's often sitting with a kid and helping them finish an assignment while we eat snacks. In life, it's shoveling the 90 year old neighbor's driveway or getting you some milk because you're out and I happen to be at the store. Make no mistake. This does not make me special. I find that doing small jobs for others helps mitigate the glaring and heavy mistakes I make daily. I gain a lot by helping because it makes me feel useful - even when I know that a half gallon of chocolate milk isn't life changing for anyone. In the last almost year, we've all had to learn ways to help from a distance. Sure I can still shovel and drop off groceries for you. I can even cal...

My favorite part of my favorite movie is when Captain von Trapp asks Maria if there is anyone he should ask for permission to marry her. Forget about the permission part - that's icky. What I love is when both Maria and the Captain simultaneously answer "the children."  As a child I loved this because I am also one of seven children and when this is your situation, it often feels like your opinion gets lost. As a mom, I ask my children things all the time, not just to gauge how they are with a certain thing, but to honor the fact that we are a unit and their voice matters.  As teachers, we remember to ask children the silly and mundane. Because opinions can been kooky, we are rewarded with great stories to share with others. Yesterday, for example, a kid told me he needed to be in a breakout room alone so that he could change his profile picture. (It's not like changing your clothes, but ok.) During math class we were partitioning a garden to determine the fractional ...

 It's been a week of transition. New information required action from many - most of which resulted in a change of location, a change in colleagues or a change in responsibilities. Yesterday, our 8th graders received their long-awaited high school acceptances. It was a combination of relief, joy, disappointment and fear of the unknown. I was gratified that so many kids reached out and shared their excitement or sadness or confusion about the future. Two different families sent me short videos of kids receiving their news, I was in a group text with two others who sought help in deciding where to go and some simply sent emails or messages on Instagram with the news. In all, it was a gift to be a part of this moment of change for kids. Amid the joyful moments, there were some filled with disappointment or loss. Some students had one option and it wasn't the one they wanted. Some had none - and we as the adults who care for them will need to find a place for them to continue learn...

 On my walk this afternoon, I saw a toddler with a butterfly net. He was exceedingly cute - wearing a navy blue jacket and hat, skipping along with his net. The skies were a brilliant blue and the sun was shining, but as it is January in Pennsylvania, it seemed unlikely that he would catch - or even see - an insect of any kind. Even so, the boy ran along waving the net with excitement. For the rest of my walk, I thought about the boy's optimism. Surely he didn't know that catching a butterfly was impossible today and it's likely that his mom, who walked behind him with her hand outstretched ready to catch him should he fall, just wanted a reason to leave the house. But there was something about the sheer expectation in his gait that made me hopeful.  Lots of things are impossible and we wave our butterfly nets at them anyway. I wanted to write everyday this month, but I fell off that wagon on the 4th. Here I sit in my sunny living room writing anyway - even though the strea...

 Yesterday, I put yet another new soap in the powder room. It made me wonder how much soap we have used since March. If we are thinking about use, there are lots of quantifiable ways we could measure these last several months. How much water? Toothpaste? Electricity? Time?  Use implies depletion. Certainly, we are all at least a little depleted and many families are indeed ravaged by the pandemic. How ever we look at these last ten months, we can identify loss. But we can also point to some gains. Since we started by quantifying soap, we could pause a moment to quantify the gains we have made. How much have we learned? How many new relationships have we formed? How much more compassion do we show?  Hopefully, these gains make up for our significant loss of soap.

 When my younger son was born, my mom stayed with us for a week. At the time, there was a BabyGAP up the street and she went to scope out the sale rack. She came home with two matching navy blue T-shirts, put one on each boy and dubbed them Team Beall.  The name stuck and almost two decades later, I find new ways to be grateful for them all the time. They aren't the chubby, silly Team they once were, but they are helpful, kind, hilarious, joyful and hardworking. We still play a lot of games and take a lot of walks - throwbacks to an earlier time and benefits of being pandemic housemates - but our Team has evolved into a really lovely thing. I find it disingenuous to brag about them, as I maintain they are excellent humans on their own merit. However, I do find the way they support eachother, me and others. Their definition of Team is a beautiful thing - they make meals, provide fun, offer ideas, listen, clean up, laugh, help others, support creativity and love openly. No, we d...