Common Things

The soundtrack for this blog post, and my day in general. 

Crack of dawn beauty while driving with Mom

I did a lot of driving today, and driving is good time for thinking.  You stare off into the distance and think about the things that rest in the back of your mind, and every once in a while you pass a car and wonder about them a little bit too.  Where are they going?  What music are they listening to?  Are they happy to be together?  Then you go back to wondering about your own life.  Putting things in their place.  Talking to the people in the car, or just NOT talking and enjoying what it feels like to be together in the quiet.

When we were driving, I thought about...surprise...teaching.  There is a lot of that lately.  I'd say this year has been marked by prepping for school in so many uncommon and stretching ways.  But in the end it's really very simple.  You choose to be a dependable and thoughtful adult in students' lives and show up every day and talk about the world with them and it comes together.  Without fail.  Every year.  And that's it, in the end.  

There is nothing else for me besides that tomorrow.  And the actual plan I have for the day.

Tonight I can honestly say that the first day of school is no longer scary.  I don't have to remind myself to breathe anymore.  But the weight has shifted from heart palpitations to other matters.  I spent a lot of time this summer thinking about education.  I didn't plan to, but the why of it all came together in my conversations and in the times of silence.  I asked myself how I was different now that I've done this for a few (quick!!) years, and what kind of teacher I want to be in the future.     

I think one of the nicest thoughts of all is that, no matter what new things come along, there are some things that are tried and true about education because people are people and they are still learning.  I know I still like being a teacher.  I still like middle school.  I still like to talk about history.  Conveniently, I do teach middle school history.  And people continue to be interesting and humbling and very real.

Since it's no longer my first or second (or third or fourth) year,  I could remind myself very easily today that probably the most real moment I will have tomorrow will not be in the big ideas.  Instead, in this surprising world, it will probably be when someone knows for sure how to open their locker for the next few hours in between class because they asked about it and we figured it out together.  Or when some new student smiles back at me even though I can tell that they are scared that they will be tardy.  The world slowing down to meet people where they are.  That's real. 

Humanity shows up for the first day of school too.  I have learned now to welcome that before anything else.   

So that's tomorrow.

But today.  Today was good too.  Driving, hanging out with my parents, and some space to think.  We went to Iowa.    

Another classic Abby, Paul, and Jessica pictures

Going to Iowa for the Labor Day parade is one of those timeless things in my life that of course really has changed with time.  It's not always the same, but the structure is still there.  There's a parade and then lunch and then lots of time with family.  Everyone knows each other in small towns, and in this place I quickly become 'Bruce's daughter' or 'Evelyn's granddaughter' before anything else. 

What was unusual today was a visit to a one room schoolhouse.  I did not expect this, but it happens to be a formal historical marker for the state of Iowa literally a few hundred feet away from the house where my grandma now lives.  I went to this schoolhouse with a few aunts and uncles, and my cousin Michelle's little boy, Gavin.

He just started kindergarten, and school is brand new and thrilling and also old hat for him all at once.  Any shred of apprehension I had about my own teaching life melted completely when I sat with him for the afternoon and talked about school.  (We also played with stuffed animals and ran around a little.)   

Five year olds have an awesome view of the world.  Here's what I picked up from him in our conversation. 

What always happens when we try to get
pictures with all 3 of them.

• He loves his teacher and thinks she can do no wrong.  (That's kindergarten for you...I won't be banking on that with 7th and 8th grade).
• Tomorrow will be his 10th day in school.
• He wants to be a paleontologist who studies dinosaurs when he grows up.  He learned this from a game on Caillou, but sometimes he learns things from himself too.
• The teeter totter is still a little scary and he can't go all the way up yet. 
• Hot lunch is better than cold lunch, and spaghetti is the best one so far.  Chocolate milk comes once a week if you're willing to pay an extra dime.
• He hopes he never has to go to the principal's office, not even in 15th grade.
• I asked him what happens when kids shout out an answer and don't raise their hand.  He stared at me blankly.  I truly don't think he has seen much of that in his 10 days in school.  You RAISE YOUR HAND in kindergarten.  I even tried explaining it to him in a different way.  Still, no.  You just raise your hand.  Right?  (Right.)
• He can name every kid in his class.  And they're all friends. 

 A conversation with Gavin about something that he is so passionate about was a huge lift for me.  He talked and talked and talked, and we sat in this one room schoolhouse, and I remembered that school is a lot about giving people the time of day too.  

Gavin!

By far, the most bewildering moment for Gavin today was when my aunt asked me about school and Gavin heard my response.  He said, 'Why are you going to school tomorrow?'  I told him I was a teacher, and he said, 'A TEACHER??'  With some shock and alarm.  

Something clicked in his mind in a very obvious way because he gets what school is now.  It was so weird to see that recognition in his eyes when he shouted 'A TEACHER??'  I told him I don't teach kids who are 5, I teach kids who are 12, and he seemed to get that, and from then on out, it was the whole gamut of things.  (See above.)  Also, how did I do Show and Tell when I was in kindergarten (I told him), and when could we get chocolate milk?  We talked about why kids used ink in old schoolhouses, and where his grandpa went to school, and whether or not he's left-handed or right-handed.  

I do not envy the life of a country schoolteacher, but sitting in that old schoolhouse today was a breath of fresh air to me.  So was hanging out with my family.  A lovely older woman named Nadine came by and heard us talking and said, 'All of this in a little person who is so small and has so many thoughts!  Can you imagine teaching 30 of them?'  And I thought, 'Nadine, I've done that, literally, and it was tough.  NO thanks.  I'll stick with middle school.'   I was totally proud of Gavin, like he was my own child.  I found myself saying, 'I know, he's really articulate.  Ask him what he wants to be when he grows up.'  She did.   He doesn't think it's anything out of the ordinary, so he explained it again.  Her eyebrows rose again.
   

Old inspiration (Thanks, Nadine!)

Nadine...she actually went to school in a country schoolhouse.   She showed me a picture of herself in an old picture, and we talked about her life experiences.  She let me look through some books that gave instructions to teachers about how to teach.  The books were printed in 1901, and they were part of a correspondence course through a Normal School in Chicago.  CRAZY! 

What if you had to learn to teach in this way?   These books were inspiring.  And I took some pictures of them because I wanted to remember what the pages said.   How to teach in 1901, so said the chapter called 'Pedagogy and Methods'. 

I felt so much comfort in reading something from 110 years ago that could bring light to my own thoughts in teaching in this very modern world today.  How many men and women have bent over their own desks with this book throughout the decades, wondering about themselves as teachers too and finding the small thoughts in the daily grind to be homing devices for what is true at a core level?  These experiences have found their way to my teaching life again. 

Class of 2024!

I also felt very bolstered to see that people in 1901 told teachers to play and look at children as people to be treasured.  It encouraged teachers to always be learners and to think critically to understand and know.  So many things are so often cyclical!  Teaching does not escape this.  I find myself endeared to those timeless things, and grateful for this calling.   

My very favorite thing from this book is the smallest statement set in the footnotes.  It is supposedly something that comes from an English text on advice to schoolmasters, and it simply says,

"Light the magic lantern of common things."