Dear Counselor Down the Hall: In December, before the busy rush of Christmas, before the calm of early January (after the seasonal chaos), before the press of semester changes and reporting periods and term-end assessments and all that entails: I wrote a letter. My letter was written to a young teacher and it was …
I watch my daughters spin, spiral, turn, jump, leap. Gliding by on silver blades. One has just now mastered a move that requires her to make her skate boots form a 180 degree angle. Called an inside edge. Why there isn’t a more elegant name for something so beautiful completely baffles me. I find myself …
It was one of those nights. Home late from an after-school appointment, I grabbed a box of cardboard-thin mini-pizzas and a bag of fries out of the freezer in the hopes that no one would notice my lackluster performance as tonight’s leading chef. As I threw the un-nutritional meal of the day into the oven, …
It is Valentine’s Day evening and I am just finishing up washing dishes- having made four cups of chocolate and two bags of popcorn as a bedtime snack for four kiddos. They sit now on the living room floor with that stash of goodies, plus various bowls of candy and chocolates besides. And that is …
To teach with heart- formidable task as that might be with the outcomes and core curricular goals driving our attention. But teaching with heart is the one, sure way through; it is the one way forward and the only way out for some of our students. Halted as they might be by circumstances, events, issues …
Callie was her name. I remember her auburn hair. Her scrawny frame. Her risqué vocabulary- peppered with colorful words I wasn’t allowed to say at my house. Perhaps I was a little bit scared of her- perhaps I was even a little in awe. She was the community bully, came from the wrong side of …
I saw you there today- so happy. Having fun with your friends. Being yourself. I admit, I was busy going over all of my kids’ routines- so I didn’t get to watch every single part about your practice. I didn’t get to see all your moves and tumbles. Cartwheels and handstands. Didn’t get to watch …
I was eight or nine when I first started feeling responsible for those silly, ridiculous things. Maybe even younger than that even. Which is not to say that I wasn’t perfectionist from the very start. My mother tells me that she once caught me picking up miniscule pieces of white lint off our red industrial …
Minus 37 with the wind chill factor. That one hour school delay affording the buses an extra hour off for idling- it should have been the ticket, really. There I was. Bleary-eyed from a night of restless sleep- worried over deadlines to come, papers to write, classes to teach and examinations to prepare for, jarred …
Dear Son: It is three days past Christmas and yet the varied strands of lights on our tree still burn brightly, as if they truly were soft candle-light glow. I write you tonight, pensively. For there has been much on my mind since the mad scramble of Christmas morning. There has been much weighing on …
I park my van in a drift of snow, opening the door before realizing that the walkway has not been shoveled. I retrieve my bundle from the seat beside me and head back out. This time, I take the road. I turn and walk up the ramp and push open the door. The sign stuck …
Thirty-one years today since that pick-up truck plowed into her little car, leaving her motionless. The spark snuffed out. Leaving her to sit and moan the occasional word. Rubbing constantly at her crusted eye, still swollen shut. Her lifeless hands and legs. No animated gestures to light up a room. They’re nearly all but gone, …
