School
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As summer’s curtain drops and the stage resets for another academic year, I return to my only camping excursion in late June with my second youngest son. We gathered with a group of friends and fathers to camp and kayak. The food and fellowship were wonderful and our time on the Allegheny River, including stops
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The end approaches. We’ve moved past counting the days; now we’re counting the hours. Another school year, my twenty-fifth to be exact, comes to a close. In the heat of wrapping up the year and managing life outside of the classroom, my wife (at my son, Theo’s leading) sent me the following poem. Balancing the
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One of the joys of being a teacher lies in the different duties we absorb to fill up any free time we might waste preparing lessons or grading student work. Of course that’s not really the case; we all have duties to perform. It’s just hard, sometimes, when you have a stack of papers that
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On the eve of beginning my twenty-fifth year as a teacher, I am reminded of Billy Collins, looking back on a long career in the following poem. I haven’t taken the time to total all the students I’ve taught over the years, but I’m sure they would populate a small rural town at the least.
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According to the calendar, Spring has arrived. Yet the snow today in Western Pennsylvania cast doubts on the accuracy of the vernal equinox. And rather than enjoy an afternoon walk in the “vernal wood” of William Wordsworth’s vision (remember, it was snowing here, windy, and no warmer than 42 degrees Fahrenheit according to the highly
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“EDUCATION is mostly about institutions and getting tickets stamped; LEARNING is what we do for ourselves.” ~ Thomas C. Foster, How to Read Literature Like a Professor (emphasis mine) On Monday, I will celebrate the dawn of my 24th year in education. Three days of in-service preparation are behind me. Open house took place last
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And so it comes to a close… Another summer wraps up within the next ten hours for me. Tomorrow morning, I will rise in the dark of a new day, put on my dress clothes, perhaps even don a tie, and head back to the high school where I have served as an English teacher
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Two years ago, one of the art teachers where I work approached me about getting a group of students together on Fridays during lunch for a bit of creative synergy we affectionately dubbed Figure Drawing and Freewrite Fridays. Students came after lunch (or during, in some cases) and sketched charcoal drawings of student or teacher
the deepening ground 