Well, it's time. The race is here. We're hitting the starting blocks on Monday and won't finish until our September Renewal day in the fall. But actually, here's the great part: your engine probably won't stop there. Fortunately, SI renews your energy as you race, and really, the finish line is just the start of a whole new game in your teaching career.
I hope you are just as excited as Keri and I to get on the track, but before we "officially" jump on, here are a few reminders for the first day:
1. Arrive between 8:30-8:45 a.m. We will begin promptly at 9:00 a.m. in Pummill 401.
2. We will eat lunch together at the Union Club on campus. Please bring $5.75 to cover the cost of your lunch.
3. Bring your laptop, your journal, or your favorite pen and paper. We will be writing. :)
4. We will be inviting guests for Guest Day on Thursday, June 26. Please return this e-mail with the name, address and phone number of a colleague, peer or administrator you would like to invite. I will also be collecting names and addresses on Monday and will be sending letters and making phone calls early next week.
Have a great weekend, and see you Monday.
Casey
Friday, June 13, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Fun Website
A former student sent this link to me today...It's SAT test vocabulary written into rap songs...
http://www.flocabulary.com/samples.html
http://www.flocabulary.com/samples.html
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Glass half empty?
If you and I had never met but were to spend ten minutes in conversation with one another, it is very likely that you would walk away thinking: "Hmm. Interesting, but I think Josh sees his glass as half empty." Now, if I were catch wind of such a comment, my reply would simply be: "It's a beverage. Why are we talking about beverages?" But the point still stands. I don't usually see the world through rose colored glasses, but through a filmy contact that sticks to your eye because it's too dry. Some may say such a level of pessimism is the product of the generation in which I grew up. I would say I'm a realist. That is to say that I try to see the reality of every situation.
It is through this contact that I have been connecting to The Right to Write. Let us take, for instance, the chapter devoted to the time lie. Like Julia, I do not believe that "All that stands between me and the great American novel is a year off." However, I can't rationalize allowing the responsibilities of having guests coming in from out-of-town, a meal to cook, horses to feed, and dogs to walk to fall to the wayside, albeit momentarily, all for the chance to write a couple of words down on a piece of paper. Don't get me wrong; I understand the point she is making: writing is uber-important. But am I to also believe that Julia would say to her daughter: "Honey, you must first play outside and then you can do your chores"? No, we all have responsibilities and, as Lincoln once said, "We can't evade the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today."
To carry my 'glass half full' point one step further, consider the plight of my writing life. I'm a teacher who is incredibly busy nine months out of the year. I am also a husband whose wife has a keen eye for detecting projects throughout those nine months that will keep me busy for the remaining three. I am also a father of a five month old baby girl whose daily schedule is nicely divided into two hour segments of time. When my wife is at work, I am Mr. Mom. That means that in the two hours after I feed her, I am entertaining her like some cheap circus pony with a swayed back and aching hooves, the cause of which is too many fat kids and walking in a circle all day long. Oh, but you could write when she goes down for a nap. True, if not for the 'Honey Do' list of projects three months in length.
I know, I know. I am being a tiny bit facetious, but I think the point to be made is that the time lie is not necessarily a lie. The reality is that there is a veritable time constraint that threads itself through each of our lives. We cannot ignore it and its responsibilities in hopes that it will simply go away. Nor can we delude ourselves into believing that "if only we negotiated our time better" we would have more time to write. No, that would mean writing is only a choice. Writing is not only a choice. Sometimes, at least in my experience, however limited, writing is a sacrificial choice. And, let's face it, sometimes sacrificing writing makes more sense to me than sacrificing time with my daughter, even if that time is spent changing god awful diapers and wiping up sour milk spit up.
The worst of it all is that when I don't write, I do feel "lonely." Each day that I don't write, I feel as though I can "never enjoy" who I actually am. I feel as though one more day in my days that are numbered has been wasted. The Bible speaks to the point that "life is but a vapor." Or, better yet, "Be very careful, then, how you live - not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil." The days in which I don't write, I feel unwise. I feel I've not made the most of every opportunity. And I know that those days have, in some sense, been evil. So, where does that put me, regardless of my optimism or pessimism? Well, again, I'm left with a sacrificial choice. I suppose the real question becomes: what will I leave on the altar?
Joshua Rowlett
P. S. My daughter chose to eat only half of her cereal yesterday. Apparently I'm so pessimistic I'm breeding pessimism. Or, maybe it's only that rice cereal actually tastes like the paper mache paste it looks like.
It is through this contact that I have been connecting to The Right to Write. Let us take, for instance, the chapter devoted to the time lie. Like Julia, I do not believe that "All that stands between me and the great American novel is a year off." However, I can't rationalize allowing the responsibilities of having guests coming in from out-of-town, a meal to cook, horses to feed, and dogs to walk to fall to the wayside, albeit momentarily, all for the chance to write a couple of words down on a piece of paper. Don't get me wrong; I understand the point she is making: writing is uber-important. But am I to also believe that Julia would say to her daughter: "Honey, you must first play outside and then you can do your chores"? No, we all have responsibilities and, as Lincoln once said, "We can't evade the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today."
To carry my 'glass half full' point one step further, consider the plight of my writing life. I'm a teacher who is incredibly busy nine months out of the year. I am also a husband whose wife has a keen eye for detecting projects throughout those nine months that will keep me busy for the remaining three. I am also a father of a five month old baby girl whose daily schedule is nicely divided into two hour segments of time. When my wife is at work, I am Mr. Mom. That means that in the two hours after I feed her, I am entertaining her like some cheap circus pony with a swayed back and aching hooves, the cause of which is too many fat kids and walking in a circle all day long. Oh, but you could write when she goes down for a nap. True, if not for the 'Honey Do' list of projects three months in length.
I know, I know. I am being a tiny bit facetious, but I think the point to be made is that the time lie is not necessarily a lie. The reality is that there is a veritable time constraint that threads itself through each of our lives. We cannot ignore it and its responsibilities in hopes that it will simply go away. Nor can we delude ourselves into believing that "if only we negotiated our time better" we would have more time to write. No, that would mean writing is only a choice. Writing is not only a choice. Sometimes, at least in my experience, however limited, writing is a sacrificial choice. And, let's face it, sometimes sacrificing writing makes more sense to me than sacrificing time with my daughter, even if that time is spent changing god awful diapers and wiping up sour milk spit up.
The worst of it all is that when I don't write, I do feel "lonely." Each day that I don't write, I feel as though I can "never enjoy" who I actually am. I feel as though one more day in my days that are numbered has been wasted. The Bible speaks to the point that "life is but a vapor." Or, better yet, "Be very careful, then, how you live - not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil." The days in which I don't write, I feel unwise. I feel I've not made the most of every opportunity. And I know that those days have, in some sense, been evil. So, where does that put me, regardless of my optimism or pessimism? Well, again, I'm left with a sacrificial choice. I suppose the real question becomes: what will I leave on the altar?
Joshua Rowlett
P. S. My daughter chose to eat only half of her cereal yesterday. Apparently I'm so pessimistic I'm breeding pessimism. Or, maybe it's only that rice cereal actually tastes like the paper mache paste it looks like.
Monday, June 09, 2008
When I get the chance, I love reading books like The Neglected "R" because they affirm old ideas that I had and give me new ones to try in order to spice up the old classroom. I loved Barry Lane's strategies for revision especially since my department used a couple of the ones he has there with success this last year. Now I have new ones to add to our collection of peer editing strategies on index cards. Reading the comments from his previous English teachers was my favorite part because students love that. When I've told my students about my favorite comment on a paper, they look confused and then laugh. (It was one word, subtle, written across the top. As the prof handed it to me, he just snickered.) Richard Kent's article was great too, but how did his students manage to accomplish all they did in only one quarter?! His portfolio ideas helped me improve my own portfolio assessment ideas. Most of all I just love reading about all different aspects of the writing process from a variety of people in the field; they affirm what I am doing and spark new ideas. The article about digital storytelling is still percolating in my head. (My apologies to Joe for the wording here. :-) Thinking of the ideas going through a filter until my brain assimilates it all is the best way to describe it. :-)Hopefully with all of these ideas, the revolution I wanted to start in my school will be a few steps closer to students seeing education as a journey instead of a grade destination.
The Right to Write / Creative Projects: Sound Part II
Creative Projects: Sound Part II
When I was a rough little country girl, one of our family’s main food sources was a fresh garden. Instead of store-bought snacks, my mom would send us racing down the grassy hill from our house to a fresh row of peas, strawberry patch, and rhubarb bundles. One of our regular chores before dinner was to run down to the garden and gather some sweet corn for mom to boil or tomatoes to slice fresh for our plates. We feasted from it, and I have never forgotten its goodness and always desired to grow my own.
For years, I’ve been visiting community growing projects like the herb and flower garden in Ferndale, Washington. Many fragrant herbs and delightfully smelling flowers chase the air with their aromas in this garden. I became familiar with the oily scents of lemon balm, hyssop, Jerusalem sage, rosemary, thyme, lavender, and many more. Slowly, I began to learn about their natural benefits for our bodies and realized if I were ever to grow my own garden, these wonderful herbs would have to be sown in it.
Another feature I admired about this fragrance garden was its raised brick beds intended to accommodate people with handicaps or visual impairments. The diverse plant varieties were encased in layered brick about four feet high which made it convenient to feel, smell, and care for the plants without bending low to the ground.
Recently, I visited a farm and ranch supply store to investigate their version of a raised garden bed. They had stacked two shades of 8*8*16 cement block, grey and sandstone brown, in a rectangular fashion with the width facing east and west for maximum sun exposure. The growing compound inside the structure consisted of an organic three-part composition: rice hull, peat moss, and cotton compost. This combination tends to produce veggies with a clean, sweet taste, and is missing a well-known garden adversary: weed seedlings.
I’m going to sow my garden using the same sized brick blocks and growing compound. By mixing the compound on a sheet of plastic and pouring it onto a piece of black landscaping tarp, I’ll eliminate most of the unwanted seedlings that might try to creep in. My growing plot is 12 feet wide by 16.5 feet long. It is conveniently located in my back yard. The ground is extremely flat and I’m just about ready to fit brick blocks around the sides.
When I was a rough little country girl, one of our family’s main food sources was a fresh garden. Instead of store-bought snacks, my mom would send us racing down the grassy hill from our house to a fresh row of peas, strawberry patch, and rhubarb bundles. One of our regular chores before dinner was to run down to the garden and gather some sweet corn for mom to boil or tomatoes to slice fresh for our plates. We feasted from it, and I have never forgotten its goodness and always desired to grow my own.
For years, I’ve been visiting community growing projects like the herb and flower garden in Ferndale, Washington. Many fragrant herbs and delightfully smelling flowers chase the air with their aromas in this garden. I became familiar with the oily scents of lemon balm, hyssop, Jerusalem sage, rosemary, thyme, lavender, and many more. Slowly, I began to learn about their natural benefits for our bodies and realized if I were ever to grow my own garden, these wonderful herbs would have to be sown in it.
Another feature I admired about this fragrance garden was its raised brick beds intended to accommodate people with handicaps or visual impairments. The diverse plant varieties were encased in layered brick about four feet high which made it convenient to feel, smell, and care for the plants without bending low to the ground.
Recently, I visited a farm and ranch supply store to investigate their version of a raised garden bed. They had stacked two shades of 8*8*16 cement block, grey and sandstone brown, in a rectangular fashion with the width facing east and west for maximum sun exposure. The growing compound inside the structure consisted of an organic three-part composition: rice hull, peat moss, and cotton compost. This combination tends to produce veggies with a clean, sweet taste, and is missing a well-known garden adversary: weed seedlings.
I’m going to sow my garden using the same sized brick blocks and growing compound. By mixing the compound on a sheet of plastic and pouring it onto a piece of black landscaping tarp, I’ll eliminate most of the unwanted seedlings that might try to creep in. My growing plot is 12 feet wide by 16.5 feet long. It is conveniently located in my back yard. The ground is extremely flat and I’m just about ready to fit brick blocks around the sides.
Youth Writing Camp
Well, our OWP inagural youth writing camp is almost complete! Today's posts from the campers were especially great to read. I also found them to be extremely reflective, especially coming from children who are all right around 10-12 years old (4th - 8th graders). Not all of the campers had finished posting from this morning, but those who had time did a fabulous job, for the most part. Wednesday is our final day together and I will post a camp picture and some final thoughts from the campers. What an exhilarating and exhausting endeavor!
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