Is Ketchup a Jelly or a Jam?

Today, the students in my two afternoon classes asked 3700 questions, almost simultaneously.  

While this may seem a tad confusing, and a lot deafening, it might help to clarify that they were writing the questions in their Whitebooks, and not actually shouting -- or even whispering -- them aloud.  I spent the time giving the class some space, and then quietly circulated and chatted with some individually.

"Is ketchup a jelly or a jam?"

Honestly, not a question I had ever considered, and almost dismissed the thought, until the questioner chatted a bit about the confusion the world has over whether tomatoes are fruits or vegetables.

Now the goal of this exercise is to randomly write, freeing your mind, and generate 100 questions.  In past years, we encouraged this by creating dice with WHO-WHAT-WHEN-WHERE-WHY-HOW, helping to keep the questions flowing.  That proved to be more of a distraction -- especially when 20 kids were simultaneously tossing wooden dice on a table.  Not exactly conducive to free-thinking creativity.

I encourage you to try this activity for yourself.  Ask 100 questions, but think about none of them.  Just write them down in a list, all in one sitting.  (If you want to play along, STOP reading this blog now, and go do it. ) 

This semester's topic in Themes in Literature is "Think Like da Vinci," and loosely based on Michael Gelb's book by the same name.  The first exploration is a focus on "Curiosita," (with an accent over the "a" that I have no idea how to insert in this platform), or a study of how curious one might be.  The most difficult part of teaching this class -- and there really is very little that is difficult once the "teacher of the gifted" succumbs to the idea that he/she will NEVER be the smartest person in the classroom, so "sit back and enjoy the ride...", is wanting to chat and explore fascinating scenarios about condiments, and the like.  

I am proud to say that NO ONE in my class was entertained by my knowledge of the difference between jelly and jam today.  (You, however, may not be as fortunate.  One has chunks of fruit, while the other is strained before canning.)  I simply moved on to the next student, leaving the questions on fruits vs. vegetables percolating in the head of the questioner.

For those of you playing along:  Choose eight colored markers, and sort your 100 questions through the following lenses:

Environmental

Ethical

Community/Social

Artistic/Philosophical

Scientific

Political/Historical

Economic

Futuristic

What causes you to think the hardest?  Are you a philosopher or a sociologist?  A scientist or a politician?  Just like da Vinci, these kids are all over the map, subconsciously, and consciously, asking questions through nearly every lens.  Next week, we'll examine the areas of fascination, and collectively consider, just like da Vinci, a little bit more about how we think.  The Environmentalists will go head to head with the Economists.  The Futuristic folks may just clash with the Historians.

While I can definitively defend my position that ketchup is neither a jam or a jelly, there is little else that is that black and white in Themes in Lit.

And that's exactly the way it should be.  Every day should leave them wondering, asking questions, and wondering why everything that they knew is no longer black or white, but actually a confusing gray -- scratching their grey matter for a greater quest, and another da Vinci exploration day.

Was Day ONE fun?

I grew up in a time where family dinner was a ritual.  Nothing pleased my father more than the beginning of the school year, and quizzing me, and my younger sister, in rhyme.

"Was day one FUN?"

It's been nearly two decades since my father passed away, and I still hear his voice. 

Especially during the first week of school.

Today was no exception. 

And while today was ANOTHER first day, it was different.  Amazingly different.  This school year has been bathed in positivity and encouragement.  The message is clear and simple, and resonates from many corners, creating a ripple of enthusiasm and peace that I didn't know I needed, until it happened.  It's deliberate.  It's intentional.  And, for me, it's working.

A year ago, I cried every single day for two weeks.  It was an emotional start, and I struggled to figure out how to make things better. I can't even really explain why last year was so tough -- and I've stopped trying to figure it out.  This year, I'll be as attached to this senior class as I was to last year's.  I'll threaten them to stop telling me countdown events like "This is my last..... first day, math class, concert.... fill in the blank.  Because every new beginning is another new beginning's end.  I'll laugh with them, and do my best to teach them to raise the bar on their lives, to challenge themselves, and take risks.  I'll force them to collaborate, even when they don't think that they can ever function in a collaborative group.  We'll think critically and creatively, and we'll connect things, and people, in ways never considered before.

Today, the last words at our all-school assembly were,

"Don't count the days, make the days count."  

I didn't cry.  I smiled.  Because I can, we will, and that's the way Donegal is rolling this year.  (If you want to join in the fun, follow us on Facebook to get a glimpse of each day!)  The day flew by, with an ever-growing To-Do list.  Tomorrow, the voice will ask, "How was day TWOS, Suz?"  My dad was less about grammar rules and more about the joke and the rhyme during the first week of school.  Sometimes the rules don't matter, when you're busy making the day count.

Oh, and, "Yes, Dad.  Day One was fun!"

First Day x 20. In Search of Lollipops

Today was my first day of work.  Never mind that my first day of work  with the district was actually in August, 1999.  My hope is that the next 189 first days of work this year are as wonderful as today.

You see, teachers have a rare opportunity to reset the clock at the beginning of every new school year.  The annual cleaning and polishing of the classrooms and hallways requires teachers to pack up their desks and clean off their surfaces before departing for the summer -- yet also allows/requires that we consider each item as we unpack and design our spaces for the new school year.  (This also allows us the luxury of unpacking our summer haul of new school supplies, which is a serious addiction for many teachers that might, some day, require a 12 Step program.)    So while every other profession has calendars that begin with a month named JANUARY, teachers have calendars that spread over two calendar years, and teachers make New Year's Resolutions in August.

Here's the thing about today's first day:  It was entirely different than any previous year.  Those who are anti-existential will argue that this is an observation that is painfully obvious, while those who are mindful and have listened to the fading of the tiny cymbal in the Mindfulness Professional Development session this summer, will know exactly where I am coming from.  After a series of very stressful starts in recent years, today was a day unlike any in recent memory.  The focus was on people instead of data. The discussion and activities encouraged wonderment, raw honesty, and reflection about our teaching.  Nothing seemed rushed, and everything seemed nurturing.

It was magical.

Right before lunch, we watched Drew Dudley's TedX talk, "Leading with Lollipops. "  (Click on the link  -- it's worth the 6 minutes!).  I instantly flashed back on my person.

Almost 25 years ago, I was shopping at Stauffer's of Kissel Hill, with a four year old in the cart.  I was pregnant with Kristin, and Scott was in school. Now Stauffer's was, and still is, a great place to wander and shop - especially at lunchtime.  There are MANY samples to be had, and if you don't leave with a full belly, along with a full cart, there were still 50 cent hotdogs to be grabbed on the way out the door.  I was doing my usual mom thing, chattering to the kid in the cart, when a total stranger touched me lightly on the arm and said, "YOU are an awesome mom! I love listening to you talk to your little boy today!  You made my day!"

I found myself today-- a quarter of a century later -- (and many times in between when I thought I was less than adequate as a parent) flashing back on what I now know was a I lollipop moment of a total stranger affirming me. I wish I had been more grateful, and less like the freak who stared at her in total amazement. I don't remember saying much more than muttering a "thank you."  

I have never had a professional development day that resulted in serious flashbacks of personal affirmation of value and worth as today's experience.  "All the feels," as my 30 something friends say on Facebook, and yes, today, that's a great definition.

It made me want to recommit to the blog.

So here I am, watching TedX talks after my first day of work.  and now some Canadian guy in a hat is my new inspiration.  On Monday, I'll be diving off sand cliffs with some guy named Mustafa. (watch the video and stop singing the Lion King in your head -- it's not a typo!) Tomorrow is Day 1 again, without the feeling of Bill Murray or Groundhog Day, driving right into year 20, still feeling like it's my very first day of school.