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?

The Political Part of My Year

I'm heading to D.C. and this time, tomorrow, I will be walking the mall (running, actually) trying to meet with my State Senators and Congressmen to advocate for more funding for programs like the National Writing Project. I made a mini-speech this morning at a faculty meeting (amidst local squabbles of trivial items) that our efforts need to be more united. The state of public education is at risk and the test-crazy initiatives are killing learning, inquiry, critical thinking, and diversity in schools. If we don't unite our front, money making organizations will rewrite everything we're expected to do with students. They aren't concerned with what the kids know...they are more concerned with how they can cash in on assessing what they feel kids should know. I saw a cartoon today depicting four layers of adults stressing over a kid's answer for number 9 on a standardized test with bubbles saying things like, "My job depends on this," "Your passing to the next grade depends on this," "They'll close this school if you miss this," etc. The pressure is put in all the wrong places and my students enrolled in college are case studies of this.

Last year, I caught the cherry tree blossoms in DC but I don't think I will be as lucky as this year. I do have the day, however, to read, organize and thing on the 4 1/2 hour train ride from Bridgeport to Union Station.

Once again, I will contemplate in amazement the cost of the trip to meet with those who represent us in Connecticut. Hotels and restaurants know the political nature of their locale and how much lobbyists will pay in order to have a few minutes with those who serve us in the federal government. I joked at my $36 dollar hotdogs and beer at Madison Square Garden last week. It will be more of the same in the Capital.

Shouting Out to William Kolb of Louisville, Kentucky

In my last year at the J. Graham Brown School I had the fortune of occasionally bantering with William Kolb who, at the time, was a middle school student. The third child of Susan and George Kolb (I taught with Susan, knew the body parts she collected from artwork thrown to the trash, and first witnessed the image of a messiah in their downstairs bathroom) was actually introduced to me way before he started school. My friend, Sabine Pircher (oh we were so young), lived across the street and often baby sat for the Kolb crew. Even at a young age my sense of humor and wackiness resonated with the "corniest" of the Kolbs. One of my greatest regrets for leaving the Brown School was not having William as a student, but I knew he had others at the Brown School to keep his spirit alive. I am so glad we've stayed in touch online and hope this will continue.

William recently won numerous awards for his photography with the Alliance of Young Artists and Writers, a contest sponsored by Scholastic. His photography has amazed many (including the brilliant eyes of Christi George and Alice Stevenson) and his future is tremendous. Yesterday, I learned that JCPS celebrated his achievements in a Jefferson County magazine (copied to the right).

William is destined for Western Kentucky University. Despite making me feel old, it makes me extremely proud that his work, much of which has aimed to keep the Brown School mission and shared values alive, has been recognized in Louisville and across the nation. Today, I post this as recognition of each and every one of the communities he enhances with his photographs.

A Post To Honestly Explore Lies....Wait, What?

          Greenman, B. (2013, March 15th, 2013). True Lies, The New York Times. 


In The New York Times yesterday, Ben Greenman wrote a satirical piece making "pun" of recent lawsuits against Lance Armstrong and his memoirs. The plaintiffs argue they bought his books because they believed in his honesty and they are suing for the damages his lies have told. Greenman, however, attacks works of fiction and claims: 

These books commit a crime every bit as insidious as that perpetrated by Armstrong. These “novels” (I can hardly type the word without quaking with rage) are marketed as fiction when they blatantly contain elements of truth.  

My freshmen have begun David Egger's novel, What is the What, and I first learned of the work when I met Valentino Deng in Louisville, Kentucky. Deng was on a book tour for the book and I brought several Sudanese men with me for his talk. I read the book soon after. 


A few years later, I would meet Dominic Mathiang in Syracuse, New York, who also pointed me to the exact pages where parts of his story appear. The work of fiction, both of them explained to me, are based on their lived experiences. This, I believe, is Greenman's argument. He makes his case through alluding to Catcher in the Rye.

Salinger said as much in an interview. “My boyhood,” he explained, “was very much the same as that of the boy in the book, and it was a great relief telling people about it.” Is this not a straightforward admission of the very deception I allege in my complaint? 

There's humor to Greenman's sarcasm, but also a level of wit that is more poignant. Do we have the right to interrogate the printed page for total accuracy. After all, I compose on this blog every night, but readily admit that my memory of what I write is merely a reflection on my ability to recall. The point? My stories, too, are inaccurate because they are filtered through me. Perhaps this is why I've always been interested in the fine line blurring of fiction /non-fiction and objectivity/subjectivity (I recall here where Stephen King first got his idea for the movie Carrie. If you don't know how, you should read his memoir on writing).

And so I post this blog as an entry for a Monday morning, but also because I have a plan for it - I will use it as a model for my EN 12 class on Tuesday evening.


My point? Greeman says he will sue novelists for daring to include their fiction based off of truth and lived experiences. He feels betrayed.

These works lied about being lies, and the only truth I feel now is that I will never forgive them. 

Loyal to both, disappointed no matter what the result.

Actually, the truth lies in whatever team is the underdog. Even so, I couldn't help but me impressed by Louisville's strength in the second half. I have to admit, I wanted to see Syracuse with the upset and thought they we're heading that way, but the Louisville team simply powered the courts and they deserve the back to back championships. I hope they bring this to the NCAA tournament and that Syracuse finds it within themselves to make a strong run, too.

I guess I can be thankful for the game because I graded half the midterms out of nerves. I got ahead on my scoring which makes me smile.

As Elizabeth Russell, noted, my basketball loyalties will continue to be conflicted for years to come. Although the Big East has faltered, both my teams will go forth in the ACC. What are the chances their tournament will come to the Garden, though? No good, and this makes me sad.

I said before the game that coaching would play a tremendous part on whatever team wins. I can't ignore the program that Rick Pitino builds. Something he does really works. I'm thinking last night's results suck, but I'm also proud of the traditions that continue from the years I used to watch Denny Crum's coaching.

And, yes, I am thankful that neither the Cards or the Orange are in fluorescent colors.

Yesterday, Friday, and exhilarated. Exhausted

My last day of spring break was spent in my office greeting teaching pals at 5:30 to prepare for Alabama. I know that working through vacation is somewhat abnormal (especially beyond the work day, even if I had it off) but that is what it takes to do the work that is needed. Today, I'm celebrating the community of Stamford and Bridgeport teachers (including Sean's announcement that he was named Bridgeport Teacher of the Year).

There really is a lot of magic that comes from investing in teachers, supporting their intelligence, listening to their concerns and promoting their excellence - this is what the National Writing Project allows me to do. Invest in people and the power of what works. This, I believe, is the counter story. Those in the classroom deserve to be heard and their ideas can make changes that build better schools, stronger instruction, and more powerful critical thinking. If I had any success this week it was with promoting the need to invest in teachers. I am hoping these are first steps to greater accomplishments.

It also helps to know that Syracuse beat Georgetown in overtime and are heading into the final game of the Big East tournament to play Louisville. Go Orange! Go Cards! Go Me!

Moments like these are worth everything...He's still my BOSS!

My man, Principal Ron Freeman, flew to NYC to see his Cards play. Knowing he was coming, I couldn't resist, and I trained in from Stratford. In fact, I didn't even where orange (even though they won, too). My train broke down on the way, but I made it.

Ron Freeman is, hands down, one of the greatest human beings on earth. He led the Brown School for most of the time I was there and was a champion for ALL students and teachers. He had the miraculous ability and leadership to see through the bull and he pushed his staff to do what mattered most - TEACH THE KIDS. Ron advocated for our students, helped transition us to being one of the top schools in the state, and gave every ounce of his being to the  success of everyone around him. He is one of my role models and made a tremendous impact on my life-goals and vision. I could not be the man I am today without his amazing contributions (Ubuntu, indeed).

In 1997, Ron Freeman hired me and that made all the difference.

Everyone who knows Ron Freeman sees the irreplaceable, remarkable human being that he is. The only thing he placed above those he worked with were the Louisville Cards. What an honor to meet him at his hotel to watch Syracuse and to go to Madison Square Garden (via two bars) to see  Louisville win. I can only shake my head in disbelief (and not the $36 dollar spent for two beers and two hotdogs inside the arena). It's been six years since I left Kentucky and almost eight years since Ron Freeman retired from the Brown. We are approaching a decade and those of us who had his influence were fortunate, indeed.

Meeting with him again in 2013 - WOW. Go Cards! (Go Cuse!). The two of us have many more games to see together in the ACC!!!

The power of choice

There are always more than two roads that diverge in a woods. Robert Frost was partially right. In the 21st century, there are several roads than an individual can take and I am thinking about the power of having options and the benefits for making such a decision.

I CHOSE to spend my spring break working with school and teachers, including interviewing several for the 2013 summer institute for the Connecticut Writing Project. It is amazing to me to learn that in some districts teachers are given choice of best practices to implement with students and how they, in return, offer CHOICE to their students. Middle school teachers who are given more options with their curriculum are reporting, for example, that their students read 30 to 40 books a year. How does this happen? Well, they cultivate a culture of readers and are given options of building libraries and supporting a wide variety of readers. In other schools, however, teachers are mandated to teach particular books at particular times of the year and they share that their student do not read, they are losing their zest for teaching, and they feel stifled. I'm curious how it is that we are not doing research on this phenomenon. I am far more likely to engage with readers who have read a wide variety of books than those who are forced to read one book in which they cheat to get through it.

Herein lies the paranoia about the Common Core.

It is not that students are reading more in schools that provide choice (that is phenomenal). It is not that the teachers in the schools that are encouraged to teach more choice are more motivated and energized to come to school everyday. It is that some leaders of some schools feel it is better to limit what it is that students are learning and who stifle possibilities that disrupt education. That is my Thursday conundrum. How does such leadership get fostered? How can the counter stories be highlighted and celebrated?

I learned that listening to students and encouraging them to do their best work is best practice. Yet, I'm seeing the movement to a particular set of texts with particular curriculum goals being policed in some districts. I'm not sure that is the answer.

We have a lot of conversations still needing to be had. Choice is central. Teachers deserve to have choice, as professionals, for what will work best with students, yet they enter the profession at a time when they are told, 'No, we mandate that you do this." Has anyone looked at whether or not such mandates work? Hmmm, I think that is the wave of research that is needed next (although all the experts I read would side that more is much better than less).

Poor students. If they get into a program that hinders their education - which I'm afraid is more normal than not - then they are being stifled to reach the skills they need. Shame on us for not speaking louder to counter such practice.

That Moment When A Song Comes on The Radio...

and you break out dancing (don't worry, the car was in park).

With the weather welcoming the ability to walk outside, my identical twin, Pam, and I (yes, she's six years older and from a different mother) broke out as we exited the car. Neither one of us have heard that song in forever.

Of course, when we got out of the car to walk it was a giant mud pit. So, we drove to Walmart (or the other way around). I am so glad Walmart unites similar communities across the United States. I found these miraculous Easter wreaths and although I doubt I would spend the money at full price, I would love to buy these as Christmas gifts once they go on clearance. They truly are ridiculously clever.

Okay, that's my post for today. Fingers cross the Musinex gets back to work. I've had it with this cold that continues to find its way back inside of me.

Cored to Understand the Common, Reading Standards Again and Again

I went on a reading rampage last night to get another grip on the Common Core State Standards. I left Kentucky in 2007 and, to tell the truth, was selected as a Humana Scholar in 2005 through BreadLoaf to begin working on the transition of "analytical skills" the state felt were needed. The work was part of my membership with the Writing Advisory Board. This new emphasis on the analytical, of course, eventually turned into the Common Core and now Kentucky is pioneering new assessments of the standards.

The Common Core requires more writing, K-12, and I continue to stand proud when I say, "Writing portfolios in Kentucky helped students to prepare for college and career ready writing." Students wrote in a variety of genres and teachers received much support for implementing best practices for writing through the Kentucky Writing Project via the investment of the National Writing Project. I attest, though, that at the time of portfolio assessment less emphasis was placed on reading critically and analytically, although my students transitioned well to meet these goals when the buzz for more analysis began.

Anyone who knows me realizes quickly that I advocate for higher standards and more rigor. Yet, I also fight for more creativity and playfulness. The articles I read last night in favor of the Common Core emphasized that teachers will need to spend much less time on knowing students as young people developing into adults. More must be placed on curriculum that will help students to be successful after graduation.

Those who have taught in schools, however, will recognize that it is personal relationships and knowing the unique potential of every student that motivates a classroom to learn. The trick for meeting the Common Core State Standards will be the talent of how well teachers can blend the personal with the analytical. The numerous articles I read last night were strong advocates for the rigor, but fell short with how such rigor will successfully be implemented. Many of them draw on NAEP scores which, interestingly, show Connecticut as both the top scoring and lowest scoring state in the nation. After living here two years, this makes sense. This is a state of haves and have nots. The gaps are because our nation has not worked to close our class system.


The potential for failure will arrive because there's a lack of investment in education, with professional development for  teachers, and in rebuilding American schools. I work often in one urban  high school, for example, and the teachers there do not have reliable technology, provide their own paper if they want copies (but the copiers seldom work), experience tremendous truancy with their student population, and face extreme poverty every day. Driving from my working-class neighborhood through the streets where many of the students reside and to my campus, I'm reminded of the footage I've seen in Apartheid of S. Africa. It's hard to believe I'm in the United States and I'm wondering whether or not  federal and state governments will work to fix this problem (or if we can design assessments to measure how well they are fixing the problem).  Almost every educator I know goes into the teaching profession with passion and a sense of integrity.

Yet, the schooling systems that currently exists has turned to bullying teachers. It's created a culture of cynicism and frustration - behaviors that trickle down to the kids. If we do not invest in educators and treat them as professionals, I argue it is unlikely that they will have any of the tools to fulfill the Common Core State Standards. In recent years there has been a movement via Teach for America to take highly educated and successful students from prestigious colleges (super achievers, if you will) to do educational work in high needs schools. Yet, the departure rate for these teachers after two years is large making it obvious to me that the "highly educated" and "successful" need more than school smarts and skills. They often leave for other jobs and opportunities.

I ask, "Why?"

Probably because these teachers report what more experienced, veteran teachers have been saying for a long while. If we are to improve education and bring students forth with common standards, then we will need more than a core. It will require more professional development for teachers and administrators, better funding, extra support, and more encouragement. Standards provide a skeletal structure, but it is educators that flesh out what works with actual kids.

If I were to still teach in a K-12 school, I know I would do my best to help  students meet the standards, especially in writing. What I don't think I could achieve, however, is maintaing such rigor without  support. I would need more time to plan, greater opportunities to collaborate with fellow professionals, abundant tools and resources available in my school, more financial support to stay current in my field, and encouragement to see every child as the individual they are. I'm afraid, however, that without such support teachers will continue to be harassed. They will burn out even faster than they have in the past.
In the last six years, schools have lost funding. They are expected to do more and more with less and less.

I ask the following: Would you go to a dentist who only has a toothpick to work with? Would you trust a taxi-driver that has flat tires, is out of gas, and has no sense of direction? What about eating at a restaurant that has failed health inspections, that doesn't clean its floors, and that smells like urine? 

The answer, I image, is "probably not." Then why are we expecting students to learn in conditions that are not conducive their needs? Why aren't we pouring more resources into our schools?

Car locks, Child Safety, and the Oz man

I left the viewing of OZ muttering, "Now there is a solid two hours of my life I'll never get back."

I'm not sure classics are meant to be disturbed and although there were glimmers of some magic, the plot line and corny story structure was a tremendous buzz kill.

But none of that compared to actually getting to the theater. What a night!

I picked up Lois and Luis, and knowing the little guy likes to open the door while we drive, Lois suggested I put the child safety lock on. I tried. But what I apparently did was maneuver the lock into locked position so the door wouldn't close. Long story short, we drove to a gas station to see if the attendants could help us (it was also a service garage). The man who spoke no English was dumbfounded and trying to explain what the problem was to him, I inadvertently did the same thing on another door. I had two doors that were locked but wouldn't close. He couldn't help so we decided to go home. Of course, Lois had to hold one door shut and the dude gave me a string to tie to the other door which I had to hold with my hand while driving. I have rope burn. We laughed the entire way because the drama caused Luis to cry in hysterics that we weren't going to see the movie.

I did an Internet search and lucky for me, after the hour ordeal, I figured it out. I thought I was going to have to take the battery out so it didn't drain (I couldn't get the doors closed), but I read on what Answer.com site that if you hold a door handle up, turn the child locks off, and pray, you can jimmy the locking mechanism back to its original latching space. THIS WORKED! I said to Lois, "Okay, we're going. Get the kid. We'll do a late viewing."

And of course we laughed all night because the though of us driving while holding the doors in place cracked us up. It was supposed to be stress free evening but I managed to screw that up. It didn't help that the movie was a complete clunker, too. I feel bad for the actors that signed on to that flick. Poor devils. I imagine they too had better hope.

Even so, I'm counting my blessings that the doors are now shut. Now, if anyone ever has a similar problem, I know the solution.

Go, Garfield! Lead. Let the rest of us follow...

I posted on my Facebook yesterday a documentary being made about teachers at Garfield High School who unanimously voted to protest the influx of mandated tests placed upon students. With an admiration of their profession and the day to day reality check that such testing is killing learning in schools they chose to destroy another generation of youth.

I'm not sure educators across the nation can be as strong as these teachers although I'm sure the vast majority of them are behind the rebellion. Anyone who works in a school, sans administrators, see the ridiculousness of test after test after test. I know I've written about this numerous times. We do not have the economic pull to fight against the assessment machine, but we do have voice and we do belong to a democracy with a right to articulate the trouble with the current educational system.

I'm hoping politicians are listening to the teaching communities across the U.S. - most have had enough.

It is scary to me to think that we prepare educators to instill lifelong learning in young people but they are entering schools where knowledge, individualized instruction, diversity, and best practices are virtually ignored all in the name of measuring, measuring, measuring. Of course, it is testing season as most educators have little wiggle room to maneuver around the exams. Most are in favor of yearly measurements. What they fight against is the incessant practice of test-prep as only instruction. Yet, with new regulations, their evaluations will depend on them. I'm wondering how we've grown into this location and it's hard not to fall into conspiracy theories. They're that inane, but that is where we are.

Fingers crossed that this, too, will pass...we're almost at two decades, however. 20 years of students lost to the stupidity of schools forced to succumb to poor instruction.

Breaking the Spring in my Step

I am, most definitely, ready for a spring break, although it's not what one might expect.

My last class ended tonight and tomorrow morning I have meetings with New Haven Schools. I'm secretly praying Saturn really does dump snow on us and schools are canceled. Why? Then I have an extra day.

And I am thinking of Cancun, Florida, the Caribbean, and all the other places I never went to for spring break. I want to have a chill week, but it won't happen. My communities extend the university so I have lots to do next week in K - 12 schools. The result, no relaxation. The optimist, however, is celebrating that I do not have to plan classes. That is good.

Actually, my senior year at Binghamton, I took a pseudo-spring break and called in sick to work at Kaufmann's and flew to Ft. Lauderdale. We didn't do the college beach thing, but we hung out with punks and rockers...went to Greyhound races and, I think, we saw Beck. We also drove 28 hours home ... well, I did in a station wagon. I'm not sure how that trip was arranged nor how it came to be. I remember, however, running along alligators and lizards, loving the sun on my skin, and a Jamaican girl who fed dogs chicken wing bones that made them gasp for air. In other words, I was never meant for Spring Break.

I am ready for finishing a couple of books I've started and for hitting the gym. I don't eat well with the schedule I keep. I come home hungry and eat P, B, & J. It hurts my stomach. I also sacrifice the treadmill more course preparation. This, for the next seven days, I hope, will change as I relocate some of my sanity.

And I write this knowing I need to interview teachers next week for the summer institute and be in several high schools. Ugh. Break. Spring. Reality.

Package from the 'Ville came today...

and it put a smile on my face: two long sleeve t-shirts and one flannel vest. I ordered them in hopes they would arrive in time for Syracuse's game, but was glad, too, they didn't arrive because my support was with 'Cuse that day (even though they lost).

With that said, the arrival made me nostalgic for my second home that I love with much pride - Louisville. Although I grew up near Syracuse, I grew-up, grew-up, in Kentucky as an adult. Here, two degrees at the University shaped me, great friends entered my life, and hundreds of students taught me how to teach. They made all the difference and I became who I am because of the influences they made.

I miss the Irish Rover. I miss Alice and Charlie. I miss room 301. I miss going to games and the threat of tornadoes. I miss the humidity. I miss driving throughout all the neighborhoods that make that city what it is.

My ol' principal, Ron, texted me to say he's thinking about coming to NYC to support the Cards in the Big East tournament. I'm thinking it would be smart for me to do the same. I now have the right clothing, as I picked up a lot of 'Cuse wear while home and now can, once again, represent the 'Ville.

Am I a traitor? Nope. I just have more places to represent.

This was me yesterday...

...when I heard there was a possibility that a winter storm might come to Connecticut. There was a 50/50 chance it might blow out to sea, so I stood on my front porch and began offering it advice over the Long Island Sound. I did my best to encourage it to travel towards the Atlantic.

Throughout the day, however, I believe the giant "suck" of the northeast inhaled and drew the storm back inland. We're not expecting a harsh hit like we experienced NEMO, but they didn't predict that hit either. The though of more delays to our community has me frustrated and aggravated.

The focus on The Weather Channel has centered on DC and Boston. Their predictions look like the coast line of Connecticut will only get a couple of inches with the possibility of high winds. The chances for snow, however, are 90% and it will begin while I'm teaching a graduate course. I'm hoping this will not cause panic in the students as I need and want to see them tonight. There is a slight chance it will be rain, but the track continues to be updated with more sour news.

Does my dad's birthday, March 6th, count as the beginning of March and does this mean it will go out like a lamb. Either way, Happy Birthday dad...in honor of your day I will do the snowblowing down here.

Let it Melt! Let it Melt! Let it Melt!

I told my mother, yesterday, that there should be more spring songs to sing when the snow actually goes away. Although I'm stoked to sing "Let it Snow!" when it first arrives, I'm more pumped to see it trickled way into streams when it actually gives ways to growth.

I saw the first daffodils sneaking through the soil this weekend and I know my outdoor running shoes were equally stoked. I was able to pace ten piles on the pavement and felt I was doing my part in the Stratford community to punch out the slush so it was easier to evaporate on the sidewalks. I'm ready for buds, blossoms and sunshine (and I think the rest of southern Connecticut is feeling the same). It's great to see everyone outdoors stretching their legs and getting ready for spring cleaning and the hope that arrives with summer. I know the cycle will return, but for now I'm happy to shed the boots for a pair of shorts and Sauconys.

I actually got runs in, as well as walks. It just feels good to be outside and able to move without hunkering under a hoodie or a jacket. Viva la spring!

Yesterday, back to the grind. Today, grinding with happiness.

I'm very thankful I took the weekend to be normal. By that, I mean I spent time with friends and family, didn't read or grade, worked very little on time, and had much face to face time. I loved it.

Monday, however, I paid for it and a slight depression overcame me. No matter how many minutes I spent to catch up with lost time, I felt like I was accomplishing nothing. Returning to a 14 hour day and spending every second on reaching goals is what it took, but I didn't feel any i's were dotted or t's crossed. Perhaps this is I'm more optimistic for Tuesday. I have three meetings and a class to teach.

I did get groceries. That's an accomplishment, and I taught Lois how to use her IPad to make music. She's a riot. I also worked with a colleague to interpret our student evaluations (nice to have that community mentorship). But, I didn't solve any of the giant snafus that have surfaced (and note: I'm whining here, can't you tell?)

Alright, today is another day. We shall overcome. If not, oh well. I continue to tap dance as fast as I can.

One last stop before leaving Syracuse...

...to catch up with a good man who thinks like very few individuals I know. This is a spirit who keeps his observant eyes on his world and who is choosing to rethink some of his journey that has been and that still remains before him. It's been a year since we've been able to sit face to face and we had a good conversation. Funny that it was in the middle of a food court at a busy mall, but that didn't stop the depth of the discussion. Sometimes, what is meant to be said (and heard) doesn't need a designated boundary. The good talks can happen anywhere.

The highlight was visiting his girlfriend modeling in a window at the mall. She plays the role of a stiff mannequin wearing a prom dress and obviously couldn't talk. She did move her fingers, however, to let us know she saw we were there. I wanted to go in the store and talk to her as if she was real (which she was), but I was advised not to - I would make her laugh and she'd lose her job.

Now, the future will be the only storyteller of what happens next. Fingers crossed and some Ubuntu, perhaps, before another young man might realize his full potential. The great whatever knows that very few have the creative, innovative mind he has. The trick will be how he uses it - hopefully to become more like his father, a man who died before relocating with his family to the U.S.

It's easy to believe in this kid. My instinct see tremendous hope in the redirection he is trying to make. I have confidence he will make it.

Ready for the day of rest - Exhausted

Busy Saturday yesterday - actually, busy Friday evening through Saturday.

First, I rekindled with the Carrier Dome to see Syracuse look terrible, then show promise, that fizzle out in the last two minutes. Yet, I also saw Louisville look terrible, show promise, and allow Syracuse to hand them the game. It was in celebration of my father's 71st birthday, so it was also worthwhile. The crowd was over 30,000 so that was remarkable - a community of orange fans. The heights, however, were a bit much. Was glad to have Casey and Dave with us, too.

Second, I went to see Nikki perform in Central Square where they increased their score and looked phenomenal. Their show is really good (except the dull matt, strange toothpicks in the corner, and lack of an energized ending). It captivates an audience, keep the viewer entertained and has fun personality. I think they will do well in Dayton. Only time will tell. Was glad to have Mike, Dylan, Cynde and Mom with me.

I'm not sure I could handle too many days like this, however, because I need to read, write and think. I actually sat through a game and a show without opening a single book. Go me! I can have days without nerdy tendencies.

But today, rest.

In The Company of Elizabeth Mowins, ESPN, and Others

I am back in Syracuse. I arrived to accept a position in the Wall of Distinction at Cicero North Syracuse with Joleen Derosiers, Elizabeth Mowins, and Tiffany Parish Hill. The evening was a great experience and it was extremely strange to know that 23 years have passed and, suddenly, I have my fat noggin on the same wall as Richard Gere. I was very proud of my fellow inductees: an authors, an ESPN commentator, and a naval officer.

More importantly I was happy to have Haji, Werdi, Abdi and Lugendo, as well as my family, there to  support me. They made it all possible.

In my impromptu speech, I focused on two words: Newcomer and Ubuntu. I tried to piece together a story of becoming a newcomer to North Syracuse Central Schools, to college, to teaching, to meeting immigrant youth, to returning to SU for a Ph.D, to meeting newcomers from refugee campus, and finally to realizing that Carmellas, the place we hung out in high school, is now a funeral home named, you guess it - Newcomers. I think I will have no idea but to go full circle with my life.

The ceremony at CNS was phenomenally done and I have several thank-you cards to write. But my head on the plaque - HUGE. I mean HUUUUUUGGGGGGEEEEE. Great.

Friday! Friday! Friday! Shout-Out to the Crew, 2012

Last year, the EN 11/12 crew made a ritual of torturing me with this song every Friday afternoon. Our class met in the last block on Fridays and we were always ready to depart for the weekend. The song, although I loath it, has become a rhythm in my head at the end of every week. With it, I think of Austin, Amy, Conor, Sean, Ramon, Biz, Jen, Robert, Madeline, Ermira, Steven, Aisha, Brendan, Chuck, Katie, Kelly, Lauren, Maggie, Meghan, Mollie and Shelby.

And I will be singing this as I drive back to Syracuse.

I am hoping that everyone, everywhere is thanking God that today is one of those days that happen to fall at the end of a work week: FRIDAY. Wusah!