In Support of the National Writing Project

I just got an e-mail from the Greater Kansas City Writing Project (a National Writing Project, or NWP, affiliate) calling for all Teacher Consultants to blog in support of the NWP. 

I am ashamed to admit that I immediately deleted it.

I no longer live in Kansas City, and since moving away, have not been active in the NWP.  It's not for lack of trying; I attended some NWP events in the Seattle area but unfortunately did not find the same community I left in KC.  Discouraged by that experience, I only investigated half-heartedly once we moved to Memphis.  I'm still on the GKCWP list-serv and enviously read about all the workshops and book studies; in fact that is how I got the request for blog posts.  However, I didn't give posting much thought; the NWP is more of a memory for me rather than an active part of my teaching life.  Or so I thought.

Even though I had every intention of getting caught up with blogging this weekend, I didn't think a blog about the vacations I take with my husband was the right forum for this type of message.  Truth be told, I didn't think I was worthy of writing in support of an organization I've been neglecting.  But then I had an epiphany.  If teachers, writers, writing teachers, and/or teaching writers don't speak up and speak out about this incredible organization, then the NWP will become a memory for us all.

The NWP is one of many programs that has lost its federal funding in the name of budget cuts.  I agree that spending has gotten out of control and that a government that expects its citizens to live within their means should practice what they preach...but not at the expense of programs that benefit its most precious resource:  children.  (How about ending tax cuts for the rich?  Just a suggestion...)  I'm sure it's quite difficult to determine which organizations and programs deserve funding and which don't (a job I'm glad I don't have), which is why teachers across the country are speaking and writing in defense of the NWP:  to ensure it's not just a name on a sheet of paper that's easy to cross out.

I first became involved with the NWP during my rookie year of teaching.  A good friend of mine and I were invited to a writing retreat by a beloved former teacher was facilitating because there were a couple of spots available.  Thus began our initiation.  I had always enjoyed writing and was naturally drawn into teaching English, but had never considered myself a writer.  That mindset began to change when I started to learn about the NWP and its philosophies.  To simplify, writing can--and should be--taught, teachers of writing should be writers themselves, and teachers are the best teachers of other teachers.

That summer, my good friend I participated in "Writing Camp," also known as the Summer Institute.  It was, hands-down, the most valuable professional development I have had...and most likely ever will have.  Don't get me wrong; it was extremely intense and at times very stressful, but also extremely empowering and enlightening.  For four weeks, I spent six hours a day, five days a week surrounded by an eclectic group of teachers who shared a desire to improve our crafts of teaching, writing, and teaching writing.  It's hard to describe to anyone who hasn't experienced it, but the lessons, strategies, and conversations I shared with my colleagues changed my teaching life.

Until I started pondering what to write for this post, I had forgotten that on some level.  The NWP and its core beliefs have shaped my personal teaching philosophy in a more meaningful way.  I have a powerful network of teachers and solid research behind every curricular decision I make in the classroom.  This philosophy is why my students write every single day, why I want them to recognize how powerful writing can be, and why I detest the suffocating emphasis on standardized testing in my current position.

So even though I'm not an active participant in a local NWP affiliate, I will forever be a part of its network of Teacher Consultants.  The core beliefs of the NWP will continue to influence my teaching wherever I go.  May federal funding be restored so that other teachers and students have the same opportunity.

For more information on the NWP, please check out http://www.nwp.org/.

(And if you made it this far, you might as well go ahead and tell your local Congress member what I just said...although I would summarize if I were you.)   
 

Reverse Migration

Most people travel south to sunny, tropical climates for Spring Break.  We are not most people.  In fact, we traveled north to New England.  Luckily we missed the mid-March snow that the area received last week and were treated to decent weather.  Always on our quest to visit all 50 states, we wanted to take advantage of the fact that a high school/college friend is spending the year in Providence, Rhode Island.  We also were able to visit friends who recently moved to Boston, and since we were in the neighborhood, drove through Connecticut just for kicks.

Even though it was Spring Break, I worked hard to get items crossed off an ever-growing to do list so that I could relax when we were on vacation.  (In fact, writing on this blog was one of the items that just didn't get done.)  Of course, some of those pressing tasks included going shopping and getting caught up on our Netflix queue, but that's beside the point.

I will say up front that the best part of the trip was spending time with dear friends...and that's not just because we don't exactly have friends here in Memphis.  Actually, that was a common theme over the long weekend; since everyone we visited is a recent transplant to where they are living, we discussed the difficulty in making new friends, particularly when we all know that we will be moving again in the near future.

But we didn't just sit around the whole time discussing our friendless woes.  We started the trip in Boston...on St. Patrick's Day.  This was not intentional; just a "lucky" schedule.  Actually, we didn't go overboard in our celebrating, although our first destination was the Sam Adams brewery tour. 

Can you tell it was St. Patrick's Day?

Jon and I included Boston on our whirlwind couch-surfing trip a couple of summers ago, so we didn't feel the need to hit up all of the historical sites on this visit.  We instead enjoyed the beautiful spring weather as we leisurely walked around town.  Sure, we found a bar or two...including Cheers, the bar where nobody knows your name because they're all tourists.

We managed to visit during Restaurant Week so we were enjoyed a delicious 3-course meal at a price regular people could afford before checking out some pretty impressive views of the city from the Prudential Center.  We closed out the night by playing card games, such wild and crazy people we are.

We took a detour on our way to Providence the following day by going in the exact opposite direction.  We spent a couple of hours wandering around supposedly witch-infested Salem, Massachusetts.  Since I taught The Crucible a few years back, I found the memorial to those hanged--and pressed--during the infamous Salem Witch Trials to be especially significant. 

We attempted to keep the literary tour going by visiting Thoreau's beloved Walden Pond, but despite our best efforts, we weren't able to find it...darn tiny map from the car rental place.

We continued driving in the opposite direction so that we could say we went to Connecticut.  In order to count a state on our list, it is imperative that we do something significant.  Our significant event in Connecticut was walking around the bay (unless you count stopping at a gas station to use the bathroom).

Hi, we're in...Connecticut

By that time, it was time to meet my friend in Providence.  She did her homework; after a brief driving tour, she took us to a local brewery.  The next morning we went for a run along the Providence Harbor before essentially touring the state.  Along the way, we learned a lot about Rhode Island and its residents...and why we rarely see Rhode Island license plates anywhere else.  It's because they never leave.  According to our guide, even a 15-minute drive is too far.

We found ourselves in Newport for lunch and were treated to some incredible ocean views and unbelievable mansions.  This coastal town definitely depends on the tourism industry with its picturesque downtown shopping district.  We were most interested in seeing the inside of The White Horse, the country's oldest tavern (circa 1673).

We checked out the Beavertail Lighthouse in Jamestown (we learned that many New England cities have the same names) and had fresh seafood with an ocean view in Narragansett.  Jon kept repeating the name, implying its difficulty to pronounce.  He seemed to have forgotten about Puyallup, Sequim, and Steilacoom in his home state of Washington.

Near the Beavertail Lighthouse (it was windy, okay)

Narrangansett Bay

Like all good trips, it ended too quickly and made us want to go on vacation again.  It should come as no surprise that we are already planning several upcoming adventures.

Rallying with Some Teachers

I'm not political.  Never have been.  A self-proclaimed "Independent," I refuse to vote along party lines.  And then I refuse to reveal whom I've voted for.  But this current teacher-bashing trend has gotten me all riled up.  The media needs someone to blame for our country's education woes and who better than teachers?  I will not pretend there aren't bad teachers out there, but it's only fair that everyone take their fair share of responsibility:  teachers, administrators, parents, AND students. 

Under the guise of "education reform"--which I will not argue is sorely needed in some places--numerous state governments have started calling for measures that are against teachers.  Honestly, these proposed laws have little to do with education at all; they are vengeful union-busting proposals.  Historically, teacher unions (and unions in general) tend to support more liberal (ie, Democratic) candidates, so once more conservative (ie, Republican) politicians seized control in the recent mid-term elections, it spelled trouble for the unions.  Call me crazy, but alienating and angering a sizable number of voters does not sound like a very good way to remain in office.

I have been a member of the National Education Association and its state affiliates since I began teaching.  Admittedly, I haven't been an active member, but a member I have nonetheless been.  For me, it's an act of security--job insurance, if you will.  When Jon worked as a painter, he was a proud union member as well.  I'm not going to turn this post into pro-union propaganda because I'm certainly no expert, but I do want to point out that despite my union membership, I have been laid-off twice and am nowhere near tenure due to the fact that I have taught in three different states.

I'm operating under the assumption that most people know about what's been happening in Wisconsin when it comes to teachers and unions.  What may not be known is that several other states, including Missouri and Tennessee are attempting to pass similar bills.  To borrow from the lexicon of my students, the legislators "done lost their minds."

In a stroke of luck, a teachers' rally was scheduled at the state Capitol the same weekend we were visiting Nashville for our anniversary (see previous post).  I think it was a sign.  While I really don't have a strong connection to Tennessee, for me, this rally was for teachers all across the country.  Despite the rain, the crowd was electric; it was an extremely empowering experience, which strengthened my commitment to the teaching profession. 

There were some very rousing speakers who gave impassioned speeches about the work teachers do and the reasons why we do it.  And yes, there was talk about the importance of unions.  The state representative from Memphis, Joe Towns, said this about collective bargaining:

"Collective bargaining gave us the weekend. Collective bargaining gave us safety laws in the workplace. Collective bargaining [put an end] to working children like they were grown people."

Sometimes we forget how good we have it, huh?  I certainly appreciate my weekends, don't you?  But more than any single issue, I think it's the disrespect for teachers--and for working people in general--that hurts most of all.

Honky-Tonk Anniversary

Without even trying, I managed to stay within the city limits of Memphis for two whole months.  Good job, Memphis, for keeping me busy and keeping my finances insulated from the rising gas prices.  But when the end of February rolled around, it was time to get out of town.  We did go to a University of Tennessee women's basketball game in Mississippi, but that was only for one day, so the next weekend we packed up for a "holiday" (say in a British accent) in Nashville.  (Side note:  The Lady Vols #1 seed in the NCAA Tournament was well-deserved; they were like a machine.)   

What many people don't realize (we certainly didn't until we moved here) is that Tennessee is an extremely long state.  Memphis is located in the extreme southwest corner, while the state capital (Nashville) is over three hours away; it's another three-plus hours to the Smoky Mountains of eastern Tennessee.  That said, Nashville makes a nice weekend destination.

I had been to Nashville once before, but since we were only in town for approximately 36 hours (for a wedding), we didn't get to really explore.  We got into town late and so after checking into our Union Station hotel (thanks, military discount), we went straight to dinner to celebrate our 3rd "Second Anniversary" on March 4th.  While Jon is accountable for remembering ALL of our anniversaries, this is the main one commemorating our wedding in Bamberg.  


 

Our anniversary tiramisu tasted as good as it looked


We met up with a good friend the following morning for pancakes at a local hang-out.  It has quite the reputation; despite the constant rain, the line stretched out the door and around the corner.  Since this friend is originally from the Seattle area, it was only fitting that we reunited under those conditions.

Our next destination was the Parthenon.  Since Nashville is the "Athens of the South," they constructed a replica of the Greek landmark.  It was impressive...even if we didn't get the Nashville-Athens connection.

Athena, goddess of war

Our weekend trip coincided with a Teacher Rally at the Capitol, but that will be discussed in a subsequent post.  The perfect place to relax after any kind of political action is, of course, a brewery, so we dried off and warmed up at Yazoo Brewery.  However did Jon manage to find it?!?

They use only the finest ingredients

After a much-needed nap (we were on vacation after all), we connected with our friend again for a night out on Broadway, home of the Nashville honky-tonks.  We started at a BBQ joint--only slightly ironic since we were traveling from Memphis--and then hit up a couple of honky-tonks for drinks and live music.



The next morning we went to Ryman Auditorium, the "Mother Church of Country Music" and original home of the Grand Ole Opry.  I won't pretend to know a lot about country music, but I was very impressed with the history.  Apparently the acoustics of the theater, with its wooden pews, are incredible; I hope we get to go to a show there before we leave Tennessee.

First, and surprisingly only, auto-photo of the trip

On our way out of town, we "snuck" into the Opryland Compound...er, Hotel.  It was quite the place; if we had stayed there, it's doubtful we would have needed to leave (which I think is their point).  I'm glad we stayed closer to downtown, though.  I'm getting spoiled by living so close to restaurants and entertainment.  I know we didn't cover everything Nashville has to offer, but it was a nice taste.  I'm sure we'll have another opportunity to check it out.

Jack of All Trades, Master of None

I realized--once again--as we sat in the midst of some very dedicated blues fans at the International Blues Competition, that Jon and I aren't really experts at anything.  The people surrounding us at the competition were members of various blues societies and traveled across the country (and some from other countries) for this event.  They went to club after club throughout the week, listening to bands and keeping detailed notes on their favorites. They wore official looking badges and spoke in a sort of code that only they truly understood.  We, on the other hand, went only to the finals because we'd figured it would be good music and the theater was just down the street.  I don't think we enjoyed the music any less, but it was just another reminder of how we're not specialists in any particular area. 

We know a little about a lot of things...which makes it difficult to know a lot about a few things.  With the exception of Jon's beer and transportation fetishes, we don't really specialize in anything.  We are able to navigate in a lot of different communities, but we're not exactly members of any of them.  We are able to hold our own with running people, wine people, book people, football people, technology people, political people, artistic people, writing people, traveling people, food people, music people, etc., but we're nearly always the students and rarely the teachers.  Not that this is necessarily a bad thing; we get to have a lot of experiences and meet lots of interesting people.  It's just another facet of the breadth vs. depth debate.

I, for one, have always felt this way.  During my final year of high school, for example, I ran cross country and track, played basketball, performed in Forensics, was in National Honors Society and Students Against Destructive Decisions, and  danced.  It should come as no surprise that my senior superlative award was "Most Involved."  College was no different, as I was a member of Cardinal Key service organization, Bacchus and Gamma (responsible drinking organization), Phi Eta Sigma honor society, the student affiliate of the National Education Association, Sigma Tau Delta English fraternity (that's right...STD), various other "resume'" honor societies, and I was a Student Ambassador and head of the Student Involvement Mentors.  And now that I'm a so-called adult, I've found myself with a full calendar of book clubs, dance classes, bunco games, and church lector assignments.

Please believe me when I say that I don't provide that list to toot my own horn.  In all honesty, I'm not "good" at any of those things.  I've often wondered if the reason I'm just average is because I do wear so many different hats...or if I get involved in so many things because I'm not really good at any one thing.  Reflecting on this very question as I write, I guess the only thing I'm good at is being involved.

I can't say with any authority if it's better to know a little about a lot or know a lot about a little.  By the very nature of Jon's career, we are destined to fall into the former category.  We have already lived in several different places for short periods of time.  We haven't had the chance to establish ourselves anywhere or stay in a particular job long enough to get comfortable.  In my short teaching career, for instance, I've taught five different grades at four different schools in three different districts.  On tough days, I use that as an excuse, but when I really stop to think about it, I'm thankful for the range of experiences I've already had.

So maybe that's the point of this blog post (in case you've been wondering, like I have).  Rather than feeling like an outsider at blues competitions, wine tastings, half-marathons, and new jobs, we should feel grateful for even finding out about the party.

The Desk

I am currently sitting at the most glorious of all desks.  How it arrived here is just as glorious.

I had no idea until we moved how much Jon disdained the desk we had in the guest room of our condo.  Considering my mom and I had picked it up from the front lawn of a neighbor's house (there was a "free" sign), several years prior, I wasn't too upset about his feelings of dislike.  I just didn't know about them.  At any rate, it was not long after moving into our apartment that Jon expressed his desire to get a new desk.

Due to the size and set-up of the guest room, we quickly realized that the desk was not going to fit.  We had space in the living room, but that meant that the desk--and all of the junk on top of it--were going to be completely exposed.  So, we were in the market for a new desk, specifically one that would hide all of the aforementioned junk.

Jon searched on-line for what he was looking for, but to no avail.  We tried a local furniture store which specializes in Murphy beds, and while they didn't have exactly what we wanted, the proprietor told us she would design something for us.  We anxiously awaited her e-mail, and when it arrived, we were excited to see that she had designed precisely the desk we had in mind.  That excitement quickly dissipated when we saw the price she had quoted us.

Clearly out of our price range, we abandoned our dream of a custom-made desk.  We went back to the store a couple of weeks later to see if any changes might affect the price, and while the adjustments we made did lower the cost, it was still hard to justify spending that much money.  We hemmed and hawed about it for a little while, until Jon found The Desk.

Dinking around on the internet, he decided to check our old stand-by IKEA.  Searching their on-line catalog, Jon found precisely the desk we were looking for; in exactly the same wood finish as our table, chairs, hutch, and buffet; and for a much lower price.  Jon was just about to push the button for "purchase" when he noticed that the cost of shipping was as much as the desk itself.  Why, oh why, didn't we realize that we needed a new desk when we lived so close to IKEA and had access to a moving van (and professional movers)?!?  The irony of it all!

We went through several possible scenarios, including taking a roadtrip to Chicago or Atlanta.  There is even a company in Nashville whose job is to pick up IKEA orders in Atlanta for a fraction of the shipping cost.  But that would still be three hours away.  On a whim, I inquired via Facebook if anyone was planning a trip to an IKEA in the near future.  I didn't think I'd get any serious replies until a friend from Kansas City who currently lives in the Cincinnati area informed me that a new store had opened there, and since she would be back in KC for the holidays, she'd see what she could do.  I still didn't believe it until several weeks later when this friend asked for the product information and said she'd see if it fit in her van.  Miracle of all miracles, it did.  The journey of the desk began.

Jon and I spent our entire Christmas break traveling from Washington to Nebraska to Missouri, and unfortunately just missed our friend while she was in town.  But ever reliable, the desk was waiting for us at her parents' house.  I would be remiss if I didn't take this opportunity to publicly thank this friend for helping us out.  Thank you!

In order to get the desk back to Memphis, we had to rent a mini-van.  Not really our style, but totally worth it.  Jon was so excited that he stayed up until after 1:00 am putting it together.  Isn't it beautiful?

 

"Y'all Aren't From Around Here, Are You?"

It was with some surprise that we realized in early November that it had been nearly six weeks since we had gone out of town.  Still getting used to Memphis and new jobs (plus Jon's epic studying for the Professional Engineer exam...which he passed, thank you very much), we had holed ourselves up in town for quite some time.  I recognize that six weeks really isn't that much time, but after the amount of traveling we had done in the previous six weeks, we were in the middle of quite a drought.

Jon wisely recognized that we needed to get away from the stress of work and tests, so he took the lead in finding a quaint bed and breakfast in rural Arkansas.  As soon as we could, we took off on Friday afternoon and drove the approximately three hours to Heber Springs.  Our goal for this trip was to relax, and seeing as how we were sort of in the boondocks, that was not difficult.

We arrived at the bed and breakfast in just enough time to hop back in the car to race to the only restaurant in town which would be closing shortly.  At 9:00 pm.  On a Friday.  It was technically a private club, labeled as such in order to skirt around the laws of a dry county.  Thankfully the head waitress let us sign in as members so we could have a drink with dinner.  The food was good, and we were re-introduced the Midwest phenomenon known as the salad bar (I had never really noticed that there weren't many salad bars in the Northwest).

We were both pretty exhausted at the end of a long week, so after taking baths in the whirlpool bathtub, we fell right asleep.  We awoke just in time for breakfast prepared by the chef.  Seriously.  He has his own cable access show.  At breakfast we started to get a hint of the special quirks surrounding these particular accomodations.  The chef, who pretty much runs the place, lives there with his parents...and a French guest who had been staying there for three months.  Evidently this was not the first time he had stayed with this family, even though he doesn't speak English.  Surely there's a story there; I just wasn't able to figure it all out.

This would not be the last indication that we were in unfamiliar territory.  After another bath in the whirlpool (all in the name of relaxing, right?), I joined Jon--who had been waiting patiently, of course--for our tour of Heber Springs and the surrounding area.  Our first stop was a gas station to pick up a map and some bottled water.  Perhaps it was our lack of accents, Washington and Nebraska shirts, or the fact that we weren't driving a pick-up truck (and have all our teeth...I couldn't resist), but our presence prompted the clerk to ask in an extremely thick drawl, "Y'all aren't from around here, are you?"  No, most certainly not.

We spent our day just enjoying the outdoors.  Absolutely beautiful.  We walked along the Little Red River and checked out the Greers Ferry dam, a Corps of Engineers project (one guess who was more interested in that).
 

Little Red River (a girl having senior photos taken was just off to the left)

We had been encouraged to hike up Sugarloaf "Mountain" (more of a hill, really), which provided some incredible views. The sense of relaxation seemed to just wash over us.

Sugarloaf Mountain (with a branch of Arkansas State in the foreground)



My version of senior photos, from atop Sugarloaf Mountain

We headed back to the bed and breakfast late in the afternoon and ended up sitting out on the back patio with our respective books until sunset.  We heard more fascinating tales from the chef, whose past life included a stint in the military.  By this time, nothing he said surprised me.  If my life were only that interesting, I would have my first memoir already penned.  But since it was nearing dinnertime, he had to glaze some turnips for the Frenchman.  We ventured into a neighboring town for dinner (salad bar #2 of the trip) and called it a night.



Sunday was another beautiful day, which allowed us to enjoy the scenery we had missed in Friday night's darkness all the way back to Memphis.  While our weekend was not the most exciting, I cannot reiterate enough how nice it was to relax and get away.