YOLO - They only live through school once and for them, it's all testing...

The Dallas Observer reported a story yesterday about a young man in Texas who, frustrated with nonstop testing, wrote YOLO (you only live once) on a response. He snapped a photograph of  and tweeted it under #FreeKenyon via Twitter. It was an act of rebellion that was frowned upon and resulted in four days of in-school suspension. He also tweeted, it is reported, to school officials and testing agencies. The act was a response that some tests are more important than others and this test, another one, was not. The  action, however, has caused alarm bells to ring.

I am thinking about Yancey's celebration of a similar situation when This is Sparta was spread rampantly a few years ago while students who took an AP English exam. They challenged one another through the community of social media to place This Is Sparta somewhere in the essay response they were writing. The joke spread quickly and students across the nation found clever ways to use the words in their writing - so much so scorers took notice. The tongue-in-cheek behavior is evidence that the minds of kids are much more alive than they are given credit for (especially the tests).

Perhaps this is the imp in me, but I love knowing that students step up and define independence and critique of some of the inane tendencies of our schools, especially assessments.

Of course, testing agencies and administrators went after the young man. He breached high security information that companies like to keep hidden from one another to advocate the excellence of their measurements and the importance of their exams. I'm reminded of the 1989 NYS Chemistry Regents examination in which I benefited (this is way before the Internet and smartphones). The test was published by a NY newspaper in demonstration of how easy it was at the time to get a bootleg copy of a test before it was administered and poked fun of the intensity of the exams placed on them. They proved how easy it was for some to cheat if they had the right connections. That year, 11th grade students in NY received a perfect score in Chemistry because the scandal was too widespread to validate that exam.  I can say, honestly, THANK GOD for that.

, I think this student has demonstrated an intelligence that will never be measured by companies. Sadly, schools who don't listen to kids and their frustrations are still in power to scold them when they conduct mild forms of protests. All in all it's just another brick in the wall.

What awaits now is whether or not more and more of this will happen. Like parents and teachers, students have had enough. I can't blame them one bit.

Ouch. Period. Just Ouch.

Like the majority of basketball fans across the U.S. I was horrified, struck, fascinated, and disgusted by Kevin Ware's freak break during Sunday's game against Duke. When he went up my first thought was  with admiration for the height he can get - but then he landed and I jumped out of my seat. I thought, "Did I just see that?"

I thought it was my imagination and then they did the replay. Nope. Of course everyone else in the room didn't see it so I Googled it. Yep. I was right.

Then the next morning the still shots surfaced. Ah, that is why the boys crouched down in prayer. That is why everyone was crying, including Pitino. That was why there was silence. The Tibia snapped and definitely jutted out of the skin. It also explained the rubbery leg phenomenon that occurred when he walked on the other leg. It dangled rather peculiarly. Then he fell.

Ouch. Plain Ouch.

Now, there's a part of me that wants to link to the still photos but I think I've seen enough of them. I will allow you to do your own Google search (Melissa and Ginette Piel did last night and their reaction was uncomfortable laughter. I made them sleep outside. Actually, Ginette handled it like a nurse. I made her sleep in the street with all the traffic).

So, Kevin Ware. Heal. From the reports, it looks like you are on the road to recovery rather fast. With that said, however, the psycho-sematic pain in my leg as I write this is all your fault.

12 years, and counting - lost, found, Sudan, and growth

In 2000, we learned that Louisville would welcome over 300 men from Sudan, known as the Sudanese Lost Boys. In 2001, I signed up to mentor one man, which turned into mentoring many. I taught them to shop, pay pills, drive, clean, organize, enroll in college and send money home. My friendship with their refugee group also benefited my students. I showed the 60 Minutes special every year I taught and last night, twelve years later, they ran an update.

I can't believe it has been twelve years. I guess that is about right because Panther, one of the men I mentored, has a 12 year old daughter now. He's been trying to bring her to the U.S. since he left his pregnant girlfriend so many years ago.

Yesterday, Louisville made it to the Final Four. Syracuse made it their yesterday. Last night, the Lady Cards beat #1 Baylor in an unexpected win. Yes, I revisited both my Louisville and Syracuse life through the 60 Minutes special and all this basketball nonsense. So much everything on a Sunday evening. My heart can't take much more.

I'm too exhausted to begin another work week.

What about this madness, huh?

Invited by Stephanie Burrell-Storms to the UK/Rhode Island and the UCONN/Maryland match ups - check.

Found a free place to park in a downtown Bridgeport Garage - check.

Watched Breanna Stewart, CNS alumn, rock for the Huskies - check.

Found $20 bill on the floor of Webster Arena and spent it on lunch - check.

Came home to watch Syracuse play Marquette and make it to the NCAA final four - check.

Finished my laundry - check.

Ran five miles in bright orange sneakers - check.

Cleaned the house for Ginette and Melissa Peal's arrival - check.

Read materials for the three classes I teach this week - check.

Began grading papers - check.

Picked up groceries - check.

I'm sort of checked out, if you know what I mean. And exhale.

Another Day for Orange

I ran yesterday and I am running this morning. I have new Orange Saucony's hoping I can get into a rhythm again with my legs. They continue to give me trouble and age isn't helping one bit.

But Syracuse plays Marquette at 4:30 and I do have a few outfits that might match. I also should begin preparing myself for the fact that the March madness will soon drift away and then I will need to find another way to stress my mind while working on a million and one things.

Funny how a day off sets one in a direction for best intentions, but that even in a frantic fit, only some of the list can be accomplished. Sneakers weren't on my agenda, but they work. Match my sunglasses, even. I wonder what they will look like with orange sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I guess I will look like Otto.

I did get a little spring cleaning done and decided it's time for new furniture. Mine spells like dog still and the cushiony comfort that once was has repositioned to lumps and wedges. I need a lounger to put my feet up and to recline. I'm getting old and have visions of myself with a pipe, a blanket, and a pair of slippers.

And I'm off to the NCAA Women's tournament today in Bridgeport. Should be able to catch Kentucky for one game and Connecticut for another. I think I shall bring a book. With Louisville's win, I will have four days of back-to-back March madness.

This Friday is Gooder Than Most.

I'm all about the TGIF today.

In the last few weeks, I've been to NYC, DC, and Rhode Island. I've led workshops in two different cities and taught a variety of classes. I've graded midterms and met with Superintendents. And, I'm officially cooked.

The trouble is that this gooder-than-most Fridays is followed by busier-than-most weekends and an even busier-than-most couple of weeks to follow. My roommate said to me tonight. "You look white like you never sleep."

I am white. I am trying to sleep. My mind races, however, when I try to sleep. That is why I'm hoping to get rest this weekend. Of course, it doesn't help that I stayed up late to watch last night's game.

But it is a gooder Friday and I hope to use it to catch up on reading, grading, planning, and running. I picked up groceries so that is a check. If I can have it my way, my car won't leave the driveway until next Monday.

Alas, I already know this will not happen.

Happy Gooder Friday than most, though.

Reflecting on the weekend - Spreading Hope

Last night, as I finished class, I stopped by my office to collect reading materials to have with me for the evening. The phone rang (which I thought was odd) and it was a young woman from the Newtown Winterguard. She called to say "thank you" for the Hope For the Flowers book I delivered to her team at the WGI Northeast Regional in Rhode Island this past weekend. I told her that the books were meant to be paid forward and if she or her teammates need other books, let me know.

I also handed out the books (with gift bags) for my niece's team when they arrived to the hotel on Friday night. My sister and the other parents helped make the distribution possible. The bags had typical Crandall gimmicks: tattoos, rubber frogs, Easter candy and chips for the weekend.

I told the young woman on the phone that it might be a kind gesture to write the author of the book and that I was thrilled they were distributed. The parents chose to bring the box to the band director to see what he thought was the best policy. Some parents discussed with me at the show that the teenagers need to process the tragedy, but it has been hard. The book, they felt, was an outlet for them to discuss hope in the wake of darkness.

As the crocuses and daffodils begin to blossom, I'm hoping the butterflies will soon follow. The story is that pesticides and deforestation has greatly depleted the Monarch population (which makes me sad). I like to think that human beings mean well, but they truly do make terrible choices with their greed and "progress." Perhaps we all need to be reminded of Paulus's story.

I'm thankful to the #NWP community for their contributions and to all others who helped bring the books to southern Connecticut. May each of us find the better creature within.

A Productive Day for NWP SEED Work #NWP

Principal, Dr. Wayne Alexander, and I have been working collaboratively to support content area teachers and literacy at a High School in Connecticut. Earlier this year, we worked with Common Core State Standards: Writing, Reading, and Speaking, and targeted a common language. We also focused on character building: focus, self-awareness, sense of humor, integrity, self-esteem, responsibility, and community (Ubuntu) as  life skills to share with students. Of course, a lion, the mascot, also became part of the conversation as we worked to unite bulleted targets that aligned with the CCSS.

Although the English department was the primary audience at first, the work has moved to content-area teachers, too, (with how they can better assist students with Literacy4Life). The work is a pilot project at Dr. Alexander's school as we work together to initiate and grow a collaborative conversation. In a coffee session today teachers visited with us in the library as we discussed the poster and how we could better support literacy instruction throughout the school (the majority of teachers reported that the lack of materials is the #1 obstacle - this includes technology, paper, professional development, funding for continued education, and everyday items of pens, dry-erase markers and even chalk).

The most memorable conversation for me, however, was with an individual who is in charge of the in-school suspension program. He discussed that he works with a large number of kids (often the same kids over and over again) and sees his job as literacy building so they don't repeat offenses. He refuses to let them pass the time under his watch and MAKES THEM WRITE. Together, we worked on several assignments he could host while they are sent to him. His goal: to get every student to reflect on the choices they made that landed them in suspension in the first place and to narrate the story behind  what they can do to change it. In his words, "The kids I see often have amazing stories...books of stories...novels...and for some reason when they come to me they want to share them. There's reasons why they're here and we need to embrace their narratives." He tells them, "I want you to write" and that scholastic accomplishments are his top priority. When we went over the poster, he grew excited about the seven life skills. They aligned well, he felt, with the work he has already introduced from Covey's 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. He also requested a list of books that he could use to help kids think about making choices in their life. I loved being able to support such literacy initiatives. This man was right. If we intend to promote literacy then it must promoted in all communities of a school.

In a few weeks, several teacher will attend the Literacies Essentials conference at Central Connecticut State University with NWP SEED funding. The science department, too, is working on literacy projects to enhance vocabulary instruction, writing effective lab reports, and promoting local watershed experiments to be reported to state agencies (a real world audience).

With all this noted, the one area that has become clear to me is that work in a high needs school also requires LARGER work with administrators in high needs districts. A high school is only part of the larger academic community and every initiative and vision requires collaboration with both district leaders and the teachers who are in the classroom. What I am learning is that, as a nation, we need greater investments from State and National government to promote professional development initiatives district-wide. Teachers want to improve practice and depend on district support.

Today's national culture includes new standards for academic excellence, accountability for achieving better results, oncoming observational assessments, and more classroom diversity (economically, racially, culturally and academically). Yet, at the same time, less and less support for professional development is being invested within districts to help school administrators and teachers assist such change.

The National Writing Project model, teachers teaching teachers, is a tremendous model but the scale needs to be increased.

It is a game of building blocks. Without tremendous investment in creating the strongest foundation possible, all that is piled and layered onto teachers, schools, and students will eventually collapse. There's only so much weight that can be piled on their backs without resources to support them.

Everyone needs to begin somewhere, right?

In 1996, I did my student teaching at the J. Graham Brown School. I was 24 years old and could sit on my hair. I was still high off the life I lived as an undergraduate at Binghamton University and full of optimism - a hopeful personality that many at the University of Louisville warned me would be unlikely to keep. "Schools," they reported, "would suck the creativity out of you."

I'm happy to say, I've kept the majority of my passion and zest, and the creative part of me is what keeps me going. Those who were pessimistic, I have found, grew that way because they forgot to dream. They closed the gates to the possible communities they could create.

Last night at Fairfield University, we welcomed 27 soon-to-be teachers to the first session of our graduate program. These are students, age 21, who are coming to teaching with the same desires I once had...they are in their senior year.. They want to make a difference in the lives of schools and they are entering the profession at a time where I'm hearing myself repeat the same worries in my head that were expressed to me when I started. I hope they can keep the energy and enthusiasm when they enter the cluster "cl"uck of today's schools, especially as they have been warped by NCLB, the Common Core, low morale, teacher bashing, and a failed economy. It is not easy to teach in 2013, but the 27 we talked with are eager to try. I hope they can stay away from the cynicism of the teacher's lounge and the ridiculousness of poor administration. Simply stated, I hope they are given the freedom to teach.

And look at me (above). That was age 26 with my first senior class. Wow. I'm still in the profession. It's just that I'm working to advocate for changes in a more political position.

It's all about Nikki. Actually it is.

Cynde sent me this photograph after the Northstars stopped at a beach for a photo opportunity. I like the shot, because it is misleading. Blue sky, waves, smiles. One would think that Rhode Island was a blissful experience.

Rewind. Frigid air. Bus fails inspection. Room smells like a urinal. Heat pours out of vents. Wake up is 7 a.m. The judges don't seem to like the Northstars show. The Rhode Island arena food is rancid.
People like to cut their heads open with blades. Hours of prep time go into 5 minutes of performance. The mat is heavy. Return at midnight. The pizza tastes like cardboard. I drove 2 and a half hours. They traveled seven. And this costs all of us at least $200 a piece. Joy.

Actually, the truth is I loved every minute of it. It is hard for me to believe that Nikki is a junior (my favorite year to teach) and to know that she only has one more year of high school. Here she is with her blues and even if the judges don't seem to like their show, I love watching her perform. She is awesome (and her snarky personality doesn't hurt either - I wonder where she gets that wit from).

And so, next year we might focus on Dayton, Ohio. I refuse to drive there, though, so I will see about an alternative plan - a mini vacation for the spring. I gave Ga-Lutz my ideas for shows...maybe she will bite. I'm proud of her (my niece that is) no matter what the results. When she graduates, the community that was embraced by my parents (and then my sister and Mike) will be a thing of the past.

That seems strange.

And, Starbucks closed. We ended up in the hospital.

Cynde said it best. The community of winterguard pays for the girls to perform, then pay for the trips, then pay for admission to see the girls perform, and of course pay for food. It's a lot of money for 5 minute performances (and a lot of work, too: the floors, the waiting time, the patience necessary to watch so many performances to music meant for a funeral.

Ah, but it is as it is, and last night I ended up driving one of the girls to a hospital because she took a blade to her head at the end of the performance. Stitches weren't necessary, but that was the recommendation of EMS. Why they didn't take her there is beyond me.

While there, a parent from the team was also admitted for passing out in a lady's bathroom. Although the Northstars made finals, the trip has exhausted everyone.

I did, however, see Louisville and Syracuse win. And today, I drive home.

Out of DC and into RI

I made it safely to Newport, Rhode Island, and am waiting in the hotel for my niece and sister to arrive with the Northstars Varsity guard who will compete at the northeast power regional of the WGI at the Ryan Center on the campus of the University of Rhode Island.

I managed to hide for two hours, eat at a great seafood restaurant and witness the surprising Georgetown upset. I did not see that coming and thought Georgetown would rally in the tournament.

I'm a bit surprise that Rhode Island is as rural as it is. Actually, it reminds me of the coast of England and parts of Denmark. I think I came here when I was a kid, but I can't be sure.

I'm also excited to deliver gift bags I put together for Nikki's crew: water, chips, candy, fake tattoos, a rubber frog and other trinkets. I am, however, wishing I didn't eat so much seafood because I'm stuffed and really want to go to sleep. But, I'm waiting. They thought they might have made up time and could be here earlier than expected.

Today will be a long day at the arena and I'm hoping I will be able to find a place to watch the Syracuse game. While hiking, though, I came across this painted motto upon the rocks and had to snap a photograph. At the heart of this excursion is a love for my sister and niece, so I'm looking forward to their arrival. I didn't think to make gift bag for ourselves (and I forgot my slippers for lounging around). When Sunday comes and I head back to Connecticut, I'm sure I will think to myself, "Man, these last few weeks have been a whirlwind. In the meantime, I'm embracing the pace and the opportunity to be with family in strange new parts. Go Northstars!

World, Jean. Jean, World.

Earth to Bryan. Your head and that hair don't quite do it.

Either way, this photo is special to me. This is Jean Hicks, Director of the Louisville Writing Project and mentor to me for several years. We met when she was teaching at U of L and I was a long haired hippie. She and I often talked about literacy (even before I knew what literacy was). In 2002, I did the Louisville Writing Project and she became a surrogate mother. When I was wrestling with whether or not to leave Louisville, she offered advice to help me make a decision.

Fast forward. Here were are in DC after a day of lobbying. I was able to give a shout out to her and she announced, "Isn't it great to know that one of your kids has become a National Writing Project Director, too."

The wisdom this individual has is tremendous. She carried the project through years and years of portfolio assessment and helped teachers to maintain integrity while the state moved to alternative accountability. She continues to advocate for writing instruction in Kentucky and is a champion of champions. I am a better man because of her.

And soon after this post, I am going to put on a hat and find a pin to deflate my noggin. Really, Bryan? Is that you?

CWP(3) - Fighting the Good Fight in DC

The three directors of the Connecticut Writing Project are alive and well in DC, all training successfully from our regions. Today, we will hit the magical 7, fighting for all the support we can get. We attended sessions today about the state of affairs in both bodies of the federal government, and what the sequester will mean for us: approximately 20 to 30 more minutes in line.

Last night, we were able to meet with several UCONN grads who live in the area and do the Irish row of pubs and burgers. Still, the real reason we are here is to spread the word about what we do and how we can benefit from further educational assistance. We know that Connecticut has more support than most states and we teased one another thinking, "If we have more support, what do the others have?"

Always great to be back in the capitol. Viva Las, oh wait. Wrong slogan. Hmm, what is the song for DC?