Wednesday

My eighth year of football coaching came to an end last night in a rainstorm with a 28-8 win over a bitter rival. I love football, but it will be nice to have my afternoons back.

My first hour comp class is driving me nuts. First hour classes in general drive me nuts. It’s so early for these kids that their brains don’t get working until around 9:30. All morning I tried to get a discussion going about the film we just watched. Everyone just stared at me. I was getting so mad that I was going to say something I’d end up regretting, so I backed off the discussion and went to notes. I hate this ‘traditional’ way of teaching. And my last hour Advanced Writing class isn’t making it fair to my other classes. Since these kids are the cream of the crop, they’re always willing to discuss and challenge me. But my sophomores just want to be force fed. It’s driving me nuts.

I could type up little questionnaires for them to answer individually and then call on them later to share their responses, but then I’m not really getting a discussion. I’m just getting ‘canned’ responses because they’ll just read what they’ve written.

I am thinking about one strategy I learned from our common prep meetings - handing out something (marbles, cards, or candy) and then before the end of the hour (or however long I choose to give them) students must offer some type of discussion and then put their objects into a container. Then I would give points to each person who shares. I like this because it’s livelier than just calling on kids or asking them to share, but it still is forced discussion. Any suggestions?

I’ve tried to create a supportive atmosphere in my classroom where those who share are not ridiculed or picked on. I offer plenty of positive feedback. But none of this helps. And it’s driving me crazy.

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Driving up here this morning one the eleventh of October at 7:23 I spotted my first snow flakes of the year. They formed a solid white line on the border of the road where the asphalt highway meets the gravel shoulder. It’s too early for snow. But the winter sunrises and sunsets almost make it worth it.

Last winter I was heading home in the late afternoon. The sun painted the western horizon pink (is it me or does it seem that the sunsets and rises are more pink in the winter than the summer?). A full moon climbed high from the east. I was caught between them. As I was thinking how cool that was, several deer flashed through my head lights. It was a frigid day and the deer clung close together as they seemed to float over the ice glazed pavement. I watched them glide over the ditch and into a field. I intended to watch them drift across the field and over the far railroad tracks, but then I noticed how their hooves kicked up a light mist of snow. It was so cold that the snow seemed to hang like a mist. Then it rose slowly in the wind and was painted pink like the low western sky.


*****

A few weeks ago I was driving to work and surveying the sky. I always do this. That day I did it because I was looking for hints of what the afternoon was going to be like. We had a game, and I forgot my warm jacket. The northern sky was a solid bank of clouds the color of bruises. As I looked closer, I noted a small line of pale clouds scrawling eastward high across the horizon. Below them the bruised cloud bank appeared again. But just over the northern tree line a low pale wisp of clouds drifted. If you’ve ever seen Mark Rothko’s paintings, it was perfect replica.