March 2021 SOLC–Day 24
A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow.
http://www.twowritingteachers.org

Early today I was getting ready for our first day of remote learning. My first hint that things might not go smoothly should have been when I couldn’t air drop a photo from my phone to my computer. At that time, I just figured it was a blip. Something to try again later. I found a different resource. Then, not long afterward, I couldn’t print using wifi. I started getting a little worried. What was going on? I hardwired into the printer and kept prepping. Next, I went to our curriculum site to print out a few resources and …you guessed it…the site wouldn’t come up. This was getting concerning. I kept adjusting my plans along the way, trying to get ready for the start of the day and feeling more than a bit anxious. The portents were ominous.

Finally, the big moment arrived along with all the students for morning meeting. Earlier, I’d sent them a morning message in our Google Classroom stream telling them how much I was looking forward to seeing their maskless faces (a silver lining of remote learning). One by one they came in. And I couldn’t see them. Once there were two or more kids in the room, everyone’s video stopped working and a little message about “network connectivity” popped up.

To clarify, the kids could all see each other but I could only occasionally see one of them. Most of the time, I was looking at a grid of still photos. Thankfully, I had another adult in the room who helped me muddle through. She literally had to act as my eyes as I led students through a flashdrafting lesson. “I’m seeing lots of thumbs up, Mrs. Hogan!” “They’re all busy writing, working hard!”

I finally figured out that if I pinned a student’s photo, their video would pop up. Sometimes. So I could one by one peek at what they were doing. While trying to teach. “Ok! Now you’re ready for the first reason paragraph!” Pin. Peek. Unpin. “Remember, when you add evidence, use a transition. For example, or another example, or one time when…” Pin. Peek. Unpin. It was surreal.

The whole day went this way. In between lessons I rebooted, called my internet provider, and wrote desperate e-mails to our tech support. Then I launched into the next lesson with no idea how my students were responding other than by having them talk or by the interpretive comments of my savior Ed. Tech. or by using my pinning technique. Oh, and we wore out the “hands up” icon!

So, wow! I’m still trying to wrap my head around this day. It was the craziest experience.

The adventure of Day 2 begins at 8:45 am sharp tomorrow.

March 2021 SOLC–Day 23
A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow.
http://www.twowritingteachers.org

No one started the dishwasher last night and there are still a few dishes in the sink. I rinse them, reorganize a few things in the dishwasher and start it up. The soft hum of the working machine fills the kitchen.

In the adjacent room, I sit in front of my notebook. Thinking about the day ahead. Trying not to panic. Trying to prioritize. Trying to find the path that will lead me through this momentary blip and out the other side.

Because yesterday was a normal Monday. Until it wasn’t.

I thought I knew what I’d be doing. Until I didn’t.

The principal came down to see me around 10:15 while the kids were at Specials.

I didn’t suspect a thing. Until I did.

Soon, I realized that innocuous-looking legal pad he carried was an artifact of what he was doing. Contact tracing.

Soon, I realized that it was not going to be a normal Monday. At all.

So, today I sit in front of my notebook and my computer. And I plan my path to remote learning for the next week.

I remind myself I’m lucky that we haven’t had to do this yet this year.

I remind myself I’m lucky that I am two weeks past my first vaccine dose.

I remind myself I’m lucky to have a “day of grace” in which to get things figured out.

In the kitchen, the dishwasher hums through its cycles. The soft whoosh is reassuring. Steadying. Even while I sit here, wondering how to embark on this transitional day, I have already started something in motion. Something is getting done.

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• 

Each morning this weekend,
I snuck away to the river,
eager to slip
a sliver of serenity
into this series
of “To Do List” days.

Cold nights linger
Winter clutches at the river
stakes her claim
with scattered hieroglyphics

against a winter weary scene
red winged blackbird
welcomes spring

“What song is this?” I ask Kurt, watching an ice skating video a friend had posted on Facebook.

“Stairway to Heaven?” he ventures, as I turn up the volume so he can hear. 

“No,” he interrupts himself. “It’s ‘Dream On’ by Aerosmith.”

“No way! It’s Dream Weaver, isn’t it?” I ask. “I love that song. There’s absolutely no way it’s by Aerosmith!”

I’m pretty sure I’m right, and the scent of a rare “Name that Tune” victory is intoxicating.

Kurt is the musical aficionado in our family. He constantly challenges all of us to name song titles and musicians. “Ten bucks if you can tell me who sings this,” he’ll ask. I almost never can and my guesses are often so far afield that it’s become a bit of a joke. Kurt is forever pained by my ignorance.

Still, my confidence growing, I google quickly. Who sings Dream Weaver?

Google quickly obliges with an answer: Gary Wright. 

“Gary Wright sings it,” I announce, happily. (I refrain from saying “Ha!” or “So there!” Barely.)

“Well, maybe he wrote it, but Aerosmith is singing it, ” Kurt says calmly. Now he’s googling as well. 

“Kurt, there is no way that Aerosmith sings ‘Dream Weaver’,” I insist. Still my own certainty wavers a bit. I know from long and painful experience how bad I am at this game.

In a few seconds, Kurt holds up his phone and the song plays…the same one echoing from my computer. 

“’Dream On’ by Aerosmith,” he states.

Dream on
Dream on
Dream on
Dream until your dream come true

I hold onto hope for a few seconds, listening intently, hoping for a chorus of “Ooh, dream weaver
I believe you can get me through the night.”

It doesn’t come.

Oh. Crap.

I face the music. It’s actually not ‘Dream Weaver’ playing after all. It’s a different song entirely. 

I guess it’s probably “Dream On” by Aerosmith.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, going up against you,” I comment, deflated. “I must have temporarily lost my mind.” I mute my computer.

Thankfully, he doesn’t gloat. He just types into his phone again. Soon the song “Dream Weaver” fills the room.

After a moment, I ask, “Did you know that Gary Wright wrote that song?”

“Really?” he laughs.

We both listen.

It truly is a great song.

It’s not a bad moment either.

He’ll get a lot of 1’s on his report card next week. 1’s for “Does Not Meet Expectations.”

He began the year as he ended the last. Quietly. He managed his daily transitions from our classroom to the Learning Lab to weekly Speech Language sessions. He shut down when things got too tough. Retreated. Quiet. 

At morning meetings, he rarely added his thoughts to class discussions, needing encouragement even to say “Pass” when his turn came around. Limited eye contact. He struggled in the classroom with math, and often refused to look at the Ed. Tech there to help him. He rarely engaged in the work. Sometimes he couldn’t sit still. Sometimes he sat and stared at his desk. 

Somewhere along the way, maybe late in November, things started to change.

He’s flowered.  An odd word choice perhaps to describe a 10 year old boy, but it’s so apt. He’s simply opened up to the world. Now he laughs more, interacts more. His language has bloomed. Perhaps that was the key. 

He’s reading at home most nights now. Remembers to check in with me in the mornings about what he’s read. Has a couple of favorite authors. A favorite series. Still, he’s reading levels below the benchmark.

In Math, his confidence has blossomed. He raises his hand frequently to participate. Sometimes he’ll try to explain and finally say, “I can’t explain it,” but most of the time he’s finding the words to share his ideas, his strategies. He’s demonstrating far more understanding. He’s participating almost every day.

Now, I have to remind him to stop chatting. To stop class clowning. I had to move his chair up to the front row to split up his new and active social dynamic.

A teacher and I talk about this and laugh, “Be careful what you wish for!” we say. But we smile. Broadly. 

Still, he’s getting a lot of 1s on his report card, even though he’s exceeded oh so many expectations.

“There’s a woodpecker nesting in the tree above my office,” Kurt announced as he walked in. “I’ve seen it a bunch and it’s out there right now.”

“Really?! What kind?”

I think he answered me, but I’m not sure, as I’d already rushed outdoors, grabbing my camera as I went. I scanned the cluster of trees near his office, my eyes running swiftly up and down each tree trunk.

Where was it?

Was it there?

Or maybe there?

Yes! Yes! Sure enough, there it was! A red-bellied woodpecker!

Aren’t they gorgeous? That beautiful red head and black and white barred back is such a stunning combination. They actually have a faint blush of red on their bellies (Can you see it?), hence their name. (You’d think they should be called a red-headed woodpecker, but if you look those up, you’ll see why that name was already taken.)

Red-bellieds are one of my favorites and we’re lucky enough to see them regularly. Two summers ago we had a family of them visiting the feeders almost everyday. I was frequently drawn to the window to watch the parents forage at the suet feeder and bring chunks back to the three loudly-impatient babies who waited on an adjacent branch. Then they’d all swoop back off toward the trees. I never could determine which nesting cavity their tree was in, though I knew approximately where it was and I’d searched.

This past fall and winter we lost a lot of old trees during windstorms. Many of them clearly had been used for nesting cavity birds. We’d still seen the red-bellieds throughout the winter, but I’d been a little worried that they might move farther afield during nesting season. So, was this the bird Kurt had been seeing, or was it just visiting? Soon enough I had my answer.

• 

• 

• 

I settled in to watch this one hard at work. Over and over he pushed his head deep into the trunk and pulled out bits and pieces of wood. (You can see some in his beak in the last photo.) He was at it for quite some time!

Since then, I’ve been doing some research and it sounds like the male excavates the nesting cavity and then tries to entice the female. Oh, I do hope he’s successful! The nesting cavity is easily visible from the driveway and I’m already anticipating happy hours watching the family grow and taking photos along the way!

So, if all goes well, we’re expecting…baby woodpeckers!

First, I survived!
(You can read about my pre-vaccine anxiety here)

• 

• 

All in all, I’m counting it a win 🙂