It snowed today! Well, as close to snow as we get in these parts. 

We were returning from lunch when my students realized that crystals were falling from the sky. One shouted out the observation and then they just exploded out of the doors. I could not have wrangled them back if I had to. They spun, shouted, opened their mouths to the sky.

More students joined, then more, and more. 

It was magical. 

As we walked back to our classroom, damp, but still frenetic, one of my girls informed me that when she had returned to the classroom to retrieve her coat, she heard my phone ring. I had missed four calls from Kane. I quickly dialed his number.

 "What's the matter?" I asked.

"Nothing. Did you see the snow?" he asked. 

"Yes, we were just playing in it."

"It was so cool. It was like flurries over here."

"Is that why you called me?"

"Yeh, I just wanted to make sure you saw it."

Magical. 

There's No Money in Writing

The Administration's requested budget for FY 2011 recommends consolidating funding for National Writing Project with that of five other organizations, which would mean no more direct funding for the NWP.
NWP is a nationwide network of educators working together to improve the teaching of writing in our schools. Writing is a complex and challenging skill and these sites empower teachers through shared best-practices and collaborative research. My experiences with the Greater New Orleans Writing Project transformed the way I teach writing and opened many professional doors for me. The San Antonio Writing Project adopted me and allowed me to continue to be a teacher-consultant, sharing with and learning from local educators. Our students receive engaging, effective lessons that not only improve their skills, but promote a love of writing.

Please visit these links to learn more about how you can help.

http://nwpworks.ning.com/
http://www.nwp.org

chrestomathy |kreˈstäməθē|noun ( pl. -thies) formala selection of passages from an author or authors, designed to help in learning a language.

I went to work sick today. Sinus pressure, achy everything, sore throat. I coped by staying in perpetual motion. I knew if I stopped, even for a second, it would all be over. Today was our Valentine's Poetry Slam, which was a huge success, but I knew a sub would not have let them run amok as they prepared. After their Poetry Slam and chocolate fondue party, they inhaled sweets of all kinds given to them by their Valentines. If only I could harness such energy for myself. Once three o'clock rolled around, they left and then Poetry Cafe students arrived. Really?  When I finally arrived home and submerged myself in a tub of warm, bubbly water, I heard their voices calling my name again and again.

Ms. Blady, Ms. Blady, Ms. Blady

When I used to work at the Superfair in the Superdome, there would be discount nights and we would be bombarded with the dregs of the city. I mean really low-class, rude customers. My cousins can deliver comical impersonations. It wasn't funny then, though. These customers would surround all sides of our booth shouting, ordering, demanding. When I rested my exhausted body on those nights, I could still hear them yelling at me until I fell asleep. My students say my name at least ten times before the first bell rings. No exaggeration. Today it was even more noticeable because every noise reverberated in my aching skull and they were hyped up on so much sugar. 

Ms. Blady, Ms. Blady, Ms. Blady

I've jokingly asked them to call me something else. They say Shannon or Future Dr. Fishman... they're hopeful for me. I've asked for something more exotic. They call me Esmerelda, Olivia, Anastasia, but eventually, it's back to  Ms. Blady, Ms. Blady, Ms. Blady.

As I listened to my name echoing in my head this evening, I started to wonder why they so often address me before they talk to me. When speaking to someone that is right in front of me, I don't usually start with his or her name. I just start talking. There are 22 of them. They want to make sure I hear them. They want to make sure I'm paying attention to them. They know that there are 22 of them. They know I'm on all cylinders, in all directions, at all times. They just want to make sure I'm present. Somehow, I was present today, and I truly enjoyed their Valentine exchange (the only cute part of this commercial holiday) and their performances, but now it's time for me to crash. 

Ms. Blady, Ms. Blady, Ms. Blady 

Random Thoughts

Removed previous post because it's more of the same old griping and pathetic plans that could be extracted from any self-help book. 

Instead... ponder this...

"Learning without thinking is labor lost; thinking without learning is dangerous."

-Confucius

Questioning strategies and Bloom's Taxonomy are only part of transforming the way we foster critical thinking in our students, so says one of my brilliant colleagues and I agree. This topic to be continued in later posts.

It's half time. Saints are down by four points. 

And for some not-so-critical thinking...

I visited the Central Library yesterday. Homeless people get to read so much more than I do. 

When they wilt and turn brown, flowers remind me of those left at tombstones. I don't want any for Valentine's Day. 

I want Brenner and me to be friends with Beyonce and Jay-Z. 

The game's back on...

Saints just scored a touchdown!! 

Once you've said something inane,
there's really no taking it back.
You want to.
You try to.
You orchestrate the opposite
an antonym anti-venom,
which makes the poison twice as potent.
Shut up! Just shut up!
Some brain machinations
should remain covert
Realizations travel at lightning speed
when you hear the nervous laughter of friends
Shut up.

Ameliamoment 

flow; engagement; head is in the clouds, lost not in la-la land, 

but in your own creativity, passion, ideas, assuredness