What Do You Call Jet Lag When You're Traveling By Car? Car Lag?

I've been in a school every day for who knows how long...and today I looked out at my group of teachers and thought, "Let's see...if it's Wednesday, I must be in*****(unnamed school...). Truth is, I could see that these teachers, like me, were also on overload, and fortunately for all of us, I was able to remind myself that sometimes this is the only day these guys have to connect with each other, build community, collaborate on challenges that face them, and generally refuel.

So...I asked if I could start the day with a "community builder" of pictures of my grandbaby. I explained that this was kind of indulgent on my part, and even though we had no technology because we didn't have the big meeting room, they were kind enough to gather around my laptop with their writer's notebooks in hand, ready to record the photo number of their choice. I gave them a few minutes to quickwrite the reason for their choice - what the picture meant to them and why it connected to how they felt about their classes. Afterward, they shared in pairs and then we were going to discuss as a group.

Next, I asked how many chose photo number one, and it was amazing what happened. (This is a picture of Hailey's second day of life!) First of all, most of them chose that picture, and in explaining why, one veteran teacher broke down in tears. Her kids were nightmarish, incapable of being students; they were infants, like Hailey, but they didn't care about life, school, or anything about writing. Their parents were meth addicts or alcoholics and didn't care about their kids. Other teachers who chose that picture said that they felt like infants with the new strategies they were asked to adopt, not knowing or trusting where it would all lead...Oh, my, this was the teachable moment, and my lesson plan of covering the 6+1 traits seemed like it was shot to hell...Ever been there? (Actually, I like it when everything is out on the table, so to speak.)

So...I thought to myself, "Better regroup!" I asked the teachers, "What can I do to help?" The answer was to model in the nightmare class, which was scheduled to meet in moments. I told the group that I'd oblige, but they must use this time to observe and study the students, their interaction with the teacher (me this time), and we'd go back and debrief as a team of experts. I didn't have all the secrets of classroom life, but maybe in watching, we as a team could come up with some answers. (I wanted to be sure that this didn't look like I was going in to "show up" their regular teacher...or to be slaughtered for entertainment -however their teacher was the one who asked that we look at her class...and after all, if the kids were incorrigible, we'd get an idea of what was happening.) I reached in my bag and pulled out a cloze poem entitled "I Meant to Tell You," and we waddled down the hall like a line of ducks in a shooting gallery.

So...after introductions and a read aloud of the original poem, we took a few minutes to quickwrite in writer's notebooks about a person we wished we'd said something to but for whatever reason we didn't. Kids all wrote -really- for a few minutes. We stopped, turned and shared the identity of who we wrote about with a partner if we wanted...most did. All turned and at least listened. Then I gave them the poem with blanks drawn in where they could all add their own lines of poetry. Kids asked all the right questions. Does the person have to be alive? Does it have to be a person? (The kid was thinking of a beloved pet.) So...then I set them loose to write what they wished. I tried to write at the same time and did for a bit, but then I circulated to see (unobtrusively, I hoped) what was going on. All but four were writing fast and furiously, and like Dr. Woods advises, I watched for the crest of the wave.

As pencils were laid down, I asked if there were questions or comments about the writing. A teacher raised her hand and asked if there was a student sample that I could share with everyone. I said yes, but I gave the kids a few minutes to turn and share with a partner what they thought of the poem and the writing...and if they wanted, they could share a bit of their own poem or all. (I wished it were my class...I didn't know where they were with safety and comfort!) After students chatted, I read the student sample (which was written by a student who lived in a motel while his mom and his dad were seperating, and his dad ended up getting arrested when he came to reclaim the family...) I circulated around the room while I was reading, and when I finished, I whispered up close to the boys who had written nothing if they'd mind please writing at the bottom of their blank pages why they hadn't written anything.

I collected up the papers, and we filed back out and down the hall to our meeting room. Someone asked if I'd read the student work, so I began, and before I was through even two of them, we were all in tears...a note to Mom who never smiled or laughed anymore...dad who went off to Iraq...a best friend who moved away...grandpa who was a best friend but died...a favorite teacher (I'm not kidding) who was the only one who understood...and so on. The boy whose dad went to Iraq wrote in his last line line..."I'm glad we have money now, but I miss you, Dad. Thanks."

OK...so what's the point? Our kids carry in so much baggage sometimes that it's humbling...Would this come out in a survey? Maybe...maybe not. Will this come out in writing? Maybe...I hope so...Someone asked what should be done about the kids who didn't write. Another teacher answered that that would be a great place to start the conferencing...(thank you)...By the way, they wrote on the bottom of their papers, "I don't have anything to say." Someone else asked about how to motivate kids without a cloze poem...I was dizzy watching the questions go back and forth, but relieved that solutions kept coming back to teaching the kids that are in our rooms now...not where they are supposed to be next year...not where the plan always leads us...but where they appear to be now.

So...here I am, back in Springfield, light years away, a presentation tomorrow...what is it on? Gosh, it's lonesome out there when you keep driving out to schools and home before and after dark. My family keeps me grounded, though they have gone out on their own. Baby Hailey who lives up the street keeps me grounded, so I peek at her pictures when I can. Thank you, Hailey, from all of us today. We are all infants in a way, finding our way, trying to spread light when we can. I didn't have to say much today. So glad you led the way, Hailey. I'm tired!

One final postscript...the NCTE newsletter had an interesting article about teachers who blog about their classrooms (by the way, our is private...) and I thought you might be interested...