Long Time No Post...

This poor blog has been languishing, so much so that I even failed to marked its 10th anniversary back on October 12.  I gave it to myself as a birthday present a decade ago.  Although I have been largely absent the last couple of months I am still grateful for all the remarkable people I've had a chance to meet as a result and for the countless ideas I've been exposed to and creative opportunities It has brought.

Now, what has been keeping me so insanely busy?  the start of the school year has been horrendous.  Basically, I walked in the first day of school to find the 10,000 volume library had been packed up over the summer and unceremoniously dumped on the stage for me to put in order....with no help.  Oh, and the stage still had all the curricular materials from two past reading programs on it as well.  And it was filthy.  And my desk had been thrown away.  And my book carts had been given away.  My computer and printer were missing.  And the locked closet of my book repair supplies had been pillaged.  I was, to understate it in the most extreme way, not pleased.  To put it bluntly, I told the principal in so many words that this was the third library in two years I was told to reassemble from scratch by myself and to date this was the biggest damn clusterfuck I had been handed yet, so congratulations on attaining that distinction.  Yes, I actually looked him in the eye and said those words.  There were other words after that wherein I went on the detail the level of clusterfuckedness and what was necessary to uncluster the massive fuckedness of the situation.  This all fell on deaf ears.  It was a time of unparalleled joy and delight if you enjoy being subjected to the whims of incompetent leadership. 

Since that time I have put to order the utter chaos that was over 200 boxes of books plus shelves.  I tracked down and reclaimed my carts, computer, and printer.  In order to get through the weeks of heavy lifting I took my yoga mat to school.  I lifted boxes and books until my back said enough for one day then I rolled out my mat and did yoga until it felt better and the homicidal urges passed....since zero assistance in the process was provided.

We have resumed circulation which means I finally have the chance to enjoy the kids again and all the hilarious conversations they provide.  Here then are some of the early conversations this year, which have amused me and reminded me why exactly I endure the stupidity of this school district.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2nd grader: Miz Lime, are you gonna dye your hair?
Me: Nope, I like it the way it is.

2nd grader: Did you dye it to get it all grey and white?
Me:(laughing) No, I let time do it for me.
2nd grader: That's a lot of work?
Me: Indeed it is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When checking out books I ask for a student's last name so I can find them in the system. For kindergarteners it's a crapshoot as to whether or not they know their last name. When one wee one told me her first name I asked, "what is your last name?" She stared at me blankly so I rephrased my question, " What comes after Agatha*?" She brightened and announced proudly, "Sleepyhead!"

And then there was the boy who answered my question of what comes after Hobart* with, "Hey, white boy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fridays with kindergarten are telling...

Conversation #1

Librarian: What month is it?
Kindergartener: TUESDAY!!!

Sweet mother of Bill Murray, if it were Tuesday all month I would drive a truck with a groundhog in it over a cliff!

Conversation #2

Girl comes up to my desk with no book. I ask where her book is and the librarian says no books for her because she was throwing them.
Me: uh-oh, was that a good choice?
Her: (shrugging)
Me: Are you learning to make good choices in kindergarten?
Her: (with great sincerity) Nooooo....
Me:(stifling giggles) You're not?
Her: No
Me: Do you think you will be able to learn to make good choices?
Her: (enthusiastically) Yes!
Me: Oh good! What's one good choice you think you could learn to make?
Her: 7? 8?
Me: (confused puppy head cock)


Conversation #3

Boy comes to me crying that someone hurt his feelings.
Me: what did he say that hurt your feelings?
Him: He said I was stupid.
Me: Well I can understand that doesn't feel good. Let me ask you, do YOU think you are stupid?
Him: (shaking head no)
Me: Do you think you are a smart boy?
Him: (nodding yes)
Me: Good. I think you're a smart boy too. (He smiles) Do you know what smart boys do?
Him: No
Me: They remember that they are smart and let comments about being stupid fly away from them. Do you think you can do that, smart boy?
Him: (big grin) Yes!

Conversation #4

Me:(as little dude steps up to check his book out) What's your name, friend?
Him:(using his fingers to pinch his mouth into fish lips) mmffmm fffmmmp...
Me: (chuckling) Can we try that again without fish lips?
Him: (still pinching and now shaking head no)
Me:(mumbling as I'm making fish lips) Can you understand ME now?
Him:(grinning ear to ear and nodding emphatically)
Me: (laughing because OF COURSE this backfired ) Well, fish can't have library books because they get the books all wet.
Kid behind fish lips boy: His name is Charlie!*

~~~~~~~~~~

And then there are the parents...

I had a young teacher tell me a student's parents inform her she needs to be patient with their kid because...wait for it......they aren't.
Idiots: holding teachers to higher expectations of self-control than they hold themselves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you want to feel like a rock star push a cart full of books into kindergarten.
If you want to feel like a priest hand out the little paper positive behavior reward to 1st grade. As they sat along the wall while I handed them out a few kids reverentially placed one hand palm up inside the other as if they were ready to receive Eucharist while I went down the line . I thought a couple would cross themselves.

Is library a religious experience? I think so and I try to make it a sanctuary. Does that make me the Priestess of the Library?

~~~~~~~~~~~

I love it when the tough guys love books.

Tough guy Fifth grader: Miz Lime, where's the poetry books?
Me: These three shelves.

Friend of tough guy: Where's the good books, Miz Lime?
Me:(opening my mouth to speak my standard response)
Tough guy: (totally stealing my line) Man, they're ALL good books in here!
Me: Amen, brother! You beat me to it. Rock on!

~~~~~~~~~~~

And there's always the challenge of figuring out which book a kid wants...

2nd grader: Can I have the book with the little white guy? My classmate had it last time.
Me: Tell me more about the book so I can figure out which one you mean.
Him: He has yellow on him and goes up to the sky.

He wanted......


The Lorax by Dr. Seuss.  Proud to say I nailed it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And finally, there was the administrator who studied the posters I put up on the backs of the bookshelves facing out into the gym from the stagebrary (that's what I call it now that it's located on the stage at one end of the gymnasium...because OF COURSE that's where the library belongs.

Her: (with great irritation) Who put up those posters?
Me: (with pride) I did!
Her: (chagrined) Oh.

*names changed to protect student privacy

Just Give Me the A Already Because My Other Classes Are Killing Me

School has resumed.  It's been an odd start to the year.  t was very strange not to have to engage in the typical back to school preparations for children who are still in public school.  Very weird indeed since Mr. Lime and I still had to get ourselves ready. 

That said, Calypso (who would like me to post some touching sort of post about her...sheesh, kid discovers your blog and all of a sudden wants to be the star!) has begun a program at a community college.  After a couple of online classes in which she did very well she has begun attending full-time on campus classes this fall.  Here then, instead of a warm and fuzzy Hallmark sort of post, I present some observations on school.

She is not loving Statistics.  I can't say as I blame her.  If you recall, I burned my stats textbook when the class was over. She has a particular classmate who is driving her even crazier than the topic itself.  The classmate is a middle-aged woman who has just returned to school for the first time in decades and is understandably insecure about it.  What annoys Calypso is not the insecurity but her inclination to ask the same question repeatedly because she can't be bothered to actually listen to the prof when he answers her. The incessant questioning is so constant a disruption that other members of the class and the prof himself are finding their patience strained to the limit.  Calypso, though she is struggling with statistical concepts seems to have grasped at least one in assigning a nickname to this one classmate whose age is no where near the range of fellow classmates and who doesn't seem to grasp any of the social cues within a polite classroom.  Said classmate is now referred to as Outlier.



Here then is what she related as the conversation with her Literature prof who said genres won't be covered individually but rather under themes such as Death, Alienation and Loneliness, Nature, Love and Desire.  Under each theme there will be poetry, short stories, and dramas relating to the theme.

C: I was looking at the textbook and the syllabus and noticed there's a TON of Poe in the textbook but none was listed in the syllabus so I was wondering why.

Prof: Oh?  You think we should?

C: Well, um, since you mentioned he's pretty much the father of the short story and we have a theme of DEATH, I thought his work might be relevant.

Prof: Hhhmm, good point.  Which works do you think we ought to use?

C: (incredulous) Well, it's a safe bet that anything he wrote would work but how about a short story AND a poem?

Prof: You may be right.  I'll add that.

C: Well, and I also noticed a lot of Plath in the book but none on the syllabus.

Prof:  You think I should be covering Plath?

C: (looking around for Candid Camera) Well, uh, yes.  She seems a good candidate for alienation and loneliness since, you know, she was feeling alienated and lonely enough to literally stick her head in an oven and all.

Prof: Hhmm, another good point.  I hadn't thought of that.


Calypso then told me she needed to write a thank you note to her ninth grade English teacher who loved nothing more than when a student found death as a theme in any of the works discussed during Lit Circles (something Calypso found a real challenge at the time).  I'm sure such a note will make that teacher's day.

Expletive Deleted

It is my first class of the morning, after what has been two exceedingly draining schedules the last couple of weeks, after a weekend involving two consecutive 10 hour days for my own education.  The first class comes after I've already had to hit the ground running by collecting and checking in books from nine classes and helping herd 600 students through breakfast in half an hour.  It's morning and I am already tired.  I'm drained.  I'm spent.  I'm exhausted.  I feel like I have little left to give.

The class enters in jumbled, tumbling wave of preteen vexation.  I hear a torrent of profanity.  Oh no you didn't!  I stop them all.  I'm damming the damner.  Everyone is silent. Who was spewing that filth in my library?  Denials swirl.  Fingers point.  One confesses.  The teacher enters at the end of the line.  She asks what was going on.  I inform her.  She begins to remind the class of expectations as I walk to the reference wall.

I return with a thesaurus and dictionary plopping them on the table in front of the offending student*.  Do you want books today?  Yes.  Good.  Start with these.  When you can give me a list of ten appropriate words you could have used in this situation you may go find books to check out.  He is stunned, amazed, incredulous.  He is confused by the results of his confession.  The teacher says, "You heard her.  Go sit over there and get to work if you want books."

The other students come and go checking books out.  He sits against the wall paging through the books.  It was a gamble in this building full of defiant tweens who know the administration doesn't back up the teachers.  He is not displaying stubbornness, passive aggression,  obstinacy.  I ask if he's ready.   He says he is still looking.  Okay, keep at it.  He looks chagrined, humbled, small, unsure.

When everyone is gone I walk over seeing he has his fingers saving pages.  I ask him to show me what he has found.  He points in the thesaurus to the word "calm."  I ask if that is how he felt when he said the foul words.  He shakes his head.  Ok, it's a good word but it's not how you felt at the time.  What are appropriate words to describe how you felt?  I was angry.  Good.  We all get angry.  Now find ten words that mean the same as angry.  Do you know how to use this book?  He admits he doesn't.  He is embarrassed, fearful, disturbed....yet receptive, open, willing.

I show him the guide words, tell him to find the word "mad."  He pages uncertainly until he finds it.  Now read what it says.  Mad, angry...  Is that how you felt when you were cursing at the other boy?  Yes.  Okay, what other words mean the same?  Annoyed, upset, furious, incensed.  Were you annoyed?  Yes.  Were you upset?  Yes.  Were you furious and incensed?  What's incensed?  What do all these other words mean?  Mad.  They are all the same.  So it means mad?  Yep, that all mean mad.  Yeah, I was incensed.  Good.  Pick one of those words and look it up, find some more.  Angry.  Look it up.  Read it to me.  Angry, mad, irritated, bothered, upset, irate.  What's irate?  Think about it.  What do all the other words mean?  Angry and mad.  What do you think irate means?  The same thing.  Yep.  So you know a lot of those words, right?  Yes.  And some of them are new to you, right?  Uh-huh.  Which ones of the words you know do you like best for describing how you felt? Upset and furious. Ok, which of the words new to you do you like best for describing how you felt?  Irate and incensed.  Those are good words.

Guess what?  What?  You're allowed to be upset, furious, incensed, and irate.  You're not allowed to be nasty because of it.  You talk about what made you feel that way. "Ricardo, it makes me furious when you push me away from the chair I want."  You don't say, "Get outta my way you blankety-blank blank!"  That just makes more people angry and starts more fighting. Now tell me how you can say things better next time with some of these words.  I'm irate because you took my chair.  Good, that's a start.  Am I going to hear that other filth from you again?  No.  Good.  Go find some more books to improve your mind and your mouth.


*God knows my internal kneejerk response was to want to unleash a flood of invective on the offending party but that's probably all he hears at home hence his own colorful repertoire. 

Where I am Tempted to Bang My Head Agasint a Wall

So it's 9:30pm Sunday night.  I have just finished reading the paper Isaac handed me to edit, which also happens to be due tomorrow morning.  It's the history class research paper for he's allegedly been working on for two months.  He told me his topic way back when he began the research.  I offered him several excellent reference materials.  He looked through them and indicated he thought they were a bit dense.  I told him how he could find specific information in them so he could prepare his note cards.  He opted not to use them.  He did not show me any of his work or ask for any other input from me in his process.....until now.  I figure since he is a high school junior he is a big enough boy to do his work without me inserting myself into the process uninvited beyond enforcing consequences if his grades slip below a certain level.

His paper contains adequate paragraphs full of reasonably well-crafted sentences indicating he has a respectable vocabulary and grasp of grammar.  That's where my praise begins and ends.  The content of the paper is about as substantial as wet Kleenex and offers virtually no support of his thesis statement.  Instead he relies on a synopsis of events and offers his opinion upon them with zero back-up.

He disagrees with my assessment but claims he is going to heed my editorial advice and revise it tonight.....after he finishes watching zombies being beheaded.  I've also offered my opinion of that plan.

Yeah, let me know how that goes and don't be surprised when your social life is stunted as a result of the grade this paper is likely to earn.....unless, God forbid, your teacher is dazzled by style over substance, which I fear since you tell me she thinks Wikipedia is an acceptable reference for research papers.

Critical Thinking

Our high school is requiring THREE rehearsals for graduation.  THREE.  What do the graduates have to do for graduation?  They have to line up in a prescribed order, enter the stadium in a line, sit down, and wait for their names to be called before going on the stage to receive a diploma.  This is not a particularly complex thing.  They've been pretty much doing this sort of thing since the first day of kindergarten when they had to line up at the door, sit in assigned spots, and respond during roll call.

That administration is requiring THREE rehearsals of at least a couple hours each for the behavior the students have been engaging in for 13 years speaks of how little faith they have in the education they have provided for our children, dontcha think?

That's Education!

Calypso will be having her wisdom teeth out today so depending upon how that goes I may or may not be scarce in the blogosphere.  When she was collecting assignments from various teachers she ran into her film studies teacher from last year.  He asked if she'd be getting any good drugs after the ordeal.  She said she expected to.  He then loaded her up on several films he said were either best watched or just fun when one is completely stoned.  She said he also made some specific recommendations as to which painkillers go best with which movie.

The movie list includes the following:

City Lights

Wordplay

This is Spinal Tap

Tod Browning's Freaks (which came with a special warning from the teacher saying viewers should either be high as a kite or completely sober to see this because it is completely....freaky.  I suppose Calypso will watch it stoned and I will watch it sober then we can compare notes.).

I dare the government to measure this sort of education on a standardized test.  If they even try I'll suggest they've OD'd on some sort of drugs themselves.


As always prayers and good thoughts for ease of procedure and recovery would be greatly appreciated.

FAFSA

It's the Free Application for Federal Student Aid. That makes it sound so convenient and easy and with a whiff of promise in helping finance the higher education of American youth. What a steaming load...FAFSA...really sounds kind of like a wet fart and that's a far more accurate notion.  It's an online application which requires you create an account with the Federal government.  Right there you just know things are not going to go easily.  The website will crash or your connection will be wonky or you'll fail in some way and all the documentation will be lost requiring that you start from scratch.  Mr. Lime has undertaken to dealing with this process twice.  Each time he has spent hours muttering, tearing out the precious hairs on his head, and bashing on whatever objects are close at hand.  This ritual has been followed by stomping around, ranting at length on government intrusions through technology.  It's quite the show.  Book your table early to be sure to get the best seats.

Back in February, Mr. Lime and Diana attempted to fill out this document and apply online for educational loans...since the government loans are no longer available through local banks and online application is the only option now.  The air was heavy with curses upon the parentage of anyone responsible for the process, which upon completion revealed no schools participating in our great state at that time.  A good time was had by all.  Eventually, we learned we had to wait.

This week Diana undertook to complete the application without her father.  She seemed to be sailing along and remarked that she didn't understand why her dad had such difficulty.  Then she asked for our tax return information to plug in the appropriate numbers.  I could not locate it in the filing cabinet so she called her father.  Here then is the half of the conversation I overheard.

Dad? Where is your tax return?


I need it for the FAFSA...


No, I don't want to wait for you to come home...


No, I don't want you to help me...


Because I want you to still like me when it's all over...


Ok, fine...then I don't want to watch you loose your mind and end up rocking in a corner and sucking your thumb.


That's education you just can't pay for.

And Now for a Rant

Dear School Admins,

Thank you for the wonderful high school scheduling night.  I can't tell you how overjoyed I am that I took time off my job in order to come be informed about the curriculum and scheduling options for my child.  First of all, it was so helpful to receive several automated calls reminding me of the event. especially since they came at such convenient times like early morning on my day off, or during dinner on one of the few nights I don't work late and the entire family was home.  Also, thanks for noting the incorrect location of the event during the calls.  It made it so much more interesting playing hide and seek as so many of us were trying to get in locked doors.  It was even better when we found the right building and STILL the doors were locked and we had to go looking for the one door that was open.  Logically, you chose an out of he way side door obscured by hedges and a stairwell as opposed to the row of well-lit double doors which led directly to the meeting hall.

I'd also like to commend you on the slick video you put together introducing each department head and allowing them to read the list of electives offered in each department.  Since you're all concerned about budgetary constraints I understand why you opted not to print out course catalogs. I'm sure the video was a far better use of resources than making sure the school website was updated with that information and directing us there.  Oh wait, that would mean the website actually had to be functional...Oh, and the choice of background music, the theme from Forrest Gump, what a great touch!  I guess stupid is as stupid does.

It was so thoughtful of you to remove the pesky need for parents to give any kind of input as to the classes our sons and daughters take. Thanks for telling us those decisions are best left to teacher recommendations and guidance counselor discretion.  Having to communicate with my kids about their future plans and classes that might apply or what might challenge their interests is just such a burden and I'm sure I'm just not smart enough to know what might be good choices.  Also, I couldn't possibly know my child any better than a guidance counselor who couldn't pick him out of a police line-up.  As for the teacher recommendations, I've been so impressed with some of the recommendations in the past...the ones you don't want me to challenge...you know like when my honor roll son is told he shouldn't attempt advanced classes or be allowed to take a foreign language.  Yeah, I really had no idea what I was doing when I waived him into Advanced English, Advanced History, German, and two science electives...where he still makes it onto the honor roll.  Boy, am I glad I have you to keep me from making that mistake twice!

I was really excited to hear about the next phase of the massive renovation project too.  I remember what a great job you did with the new construction a few years ago.  Calypso's education was really enhanced by having three classes with no desks and a school covered in drywall dust because of the incredible planning and execution of that whole project.  I'm reassured by the vaguely hopeful comments regarding next year's stages.  I'm sure tearing down half the school in January of next year will not be in the least bit disruptive to the kids  so...

That's why it's so great that you've already announced the standardized testing dates for next year.  I'm so relieved that all the uncertainty about everything else hasn't messed up the Spring testing schedule.  Life might REALLY come to a grinding halt if anything were to disrupt weeks of filling in bubble sheets with #2 pencils.

To sum up, the welcoming effect  of the substance over style presentation detailing how I shouldn't even bother offering an opinion to my son coupled with blatant obfuscation regarding plans to ameliorate the mess and disorder caused by the next phase of the demolition construction plan was so not worth an hour and a half's worth of my pay.

Scathingly,
Lime

Literary Criticism

Isaac is "enjoying" his first high school English class this year.  He's actually in the honors section.  I made sure he'd be in that section because the teacher is so excellent. She's quirky, intense, and demands the best effort from her students.  In return she gives her students an excellent foundation.  Both Diana and Calypso had the same teacher for the same class and it served them well although at the time they thought the experience was a thing to be endured. Over the course of this school year it's been amusing to hear the three kids comparing notes about their experiences in this class.

D: Whaddya think of the lit circles?

I: I noticed if I can connect something in the passage to death she loves it.

C: Yeah, always go for death.  It makes her very happy.  She's totally fixated on death.

D: You reading Poe yet?

I: Yeah,  Fall of the House of Usher was pretty cool.  Right now though we are beating The Bells to death.

M: That poem has my favorite word in it.  Tintinabulation.

D, C, & I: (blank stares from all three)  Mom, you are so weird.

Me: What?  It's a fun word.

I: Yeah it is kind of a fun word.  I think I'd enjoy Poe more if we didn't pour over a single story for 2 weeks at a time though.  Just draws it out and makes it boring.  But there is NOTHING that's going to make me like the Puritan writers.  Reading them just makes me want to stab myself in the neck.


Well, maybe if he merely dramatized the effect the Puritans have on him the teacher might be impressed with the suggestion of death.

Honor Your Mentors

*This photo was scanned from my alma mater's alumni publication. If the photographer's name was given I'd credit that person. Unfortunately, it was not to be found.

The man in the picture is Dr. J., one of the professors in the Special Ed. department of the university where I earned my degree. He was, in fact, the founding chairman of the department. Special Education and preparing future teachers was not just a career path for Dr. J. It was a lifestyle. It was his calling.

When I went through the program he was teaching the introductory course and the course on assessment and planning. His intention was not merely that we have an overview of the history and philosophy of special education, or of the types of educational challenges students would present with, or what the biggest issues of the day were in this particular field. Yes, he covered all of that but he also wanted to build into his students a mindset of enabling our future students to achieve their highest potential. He wanted us to first be able to look at the world through the eyes of someone who was faced with difficulties, not so we could learn pity but so we could gain empathy. We spent some of our early classes "handicapped" in some way. Some of us were expected to take notes with our non-dominant hand or our notebooks were masked by a cover so we could only see to write in them by looking through a mirror. Some were given earphones which played a constant buzzing during the lecture. Many other modes were employed as well in order to simulate various learning disabilities and to frustrate our ability to attend and keep up. When the novelty wore off he spoke very quietly to tell us this was the sort of thing our future students lived with every day but it didn't mean they were unable to learn. It meant we'd have to be creative as to how we facilitated their learning and this is what we'd spend the next 4 years preparing to do. First lesson: Show rather than tell.

Dr. J. showed us much. He gave us an example of what occurs when theoretical knowledge and compassion are combined in a practical manner. Truthfully, I have to say the department was blessed with professors of this ilk. With the exception of one, each professor was genuinely skilled in his or her sub-specialty within the department and passionate about enabling students to reach their fullest potential.

By the middle of the semester I was bearing quite a load of guilt. As it happened his class was at 1pm, followed immediately by another class at 3pm. I also had a morning class from 10am until noon. If I was going to get any kind of lunch it had to be during the noon hour. Poverty stricken student that I was, that meant I had to eat in the commons where my meal plan was already paid for. I'd eat quickly since the line was always long and took forever to get through. Then I'd rush to Dr. J's class which was located on the second floor of a perpetually over-warm building. It is worth noting that Dr. J. had a deeply soothing baritone voice. Having a full stomach, sitting in a too warm room, listening to a hypnotic voice was a terrible combination in terms of maintaining alertness. I'd park myself in the very front row, right next to an open window in the hopes that it would help me stay awake because I really did value the class and very much wanted to pay attention. Nonetheless, I had many pages in my notebook where the writing turned into an indecipherable clot of scribbles as my fingers continued to form letters with my pen but my hand failed to move across the page in the process. I stopped after class one day to apologize profusely for my inability to stay awake, Dr. J. smiled and laughed and said he found it amusing to watch each day but he wasn't terribly worried about it because it was clear I was putting forth an effort in my work, grasping the concepts, and demonstrating great competence in other ways. He also reminded me that when I was teaching students with learning disabilities there'd be many times I didn't think they were paying attention but I'd find out they had soaked up much more than I thought possible, the overall outcome more than a single moment would be the proof. That's not to say he was a pushover. It was clear he wasn't going to cut a person slack if they weren't making any effort.

Dr. J. also worked tirelessly outside of the classroom. He advised local schools in their programs. Also, when their children were mostly grown he and his wife adopted an autistic boy who had been in foster care for a number of years. Dr. J. was equally passionate about advocating for foster children who so often had educational needs but were slipping through the cracks. In time their son grew from a boy prone to violent rages to a man who was the local "go to guy" when you had a broken or malfunctioning electronic device. Dr. J. didn't just lecture his students from theory, he was living every word of wisdom he sought to impart to us.

Dr. J. also took a good bit of interest in his students even after they graduated. He told them he'd continue to be a resource if needed. When Mr. Lime and I announced our intentions to move to Trinidad to begin a program focused on special needs students he was an ardent supporter who went out of his way to put us in touch with people who would be able to provide financial support. When we returned from Trinidad due to administrative problems which were beyond our ability to solve he continued to be a voice of encouragement as we struggled with a sense of failure.

Last week, I received the alumni publication with the above photo and the announcement of a new program in Dr. J's honor. Lots of other scholarships and programs have been established for various professors and deans over the years and I am cynical enough to say there's been a lot of self promotion in many of them. I am happy to see Dr. J. and his wife receiving some long due recognition, though I suspect he'd shrink from it to a degree and only agree to have his name on it if he is assured it is meeting the needs of the people he has spent his life serving. Today, I'd like to honor him here in my own small way.

Friday 55 & Da Count

FRIDAY 55

She stumbles around in silent darkness unable to understand or be understood, her heart and soul imprisoned. She lashes out at any who approach her cage. Her hopeless, helpless parents indulge any urge and bow to wild furies until...
The teacher tames the raging child, restores her freedom by giving her a language to speak.

The most important day I remember in all my life is the one on which my teacher, Anne Mansfield Sullivan, came to me...three months before I was seven years old.
~Helen Keller~

Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.
~Helen Keller~

DA COUNT

The above picture is a recently discovered and previously unknown photograph of the young Helen Keller with her teacher Annie Sullivan.

Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan have been heroes of mine since I was seven years old and I got my first chapter book about them. Helen was left deaf and blind after an illness when she was 19 months old. Her parents were devastated and had no idea what to do for her other than cater to her every whim. Eventually they hired Annie Sullivan to work with her. Annie was very nearly fired because of her insistence that Helen learn to gain self control. She was given one last chance with Helen and during that time Helen finally made the connection between the words Annie fingerspelled into her palm and the objects being named. Helen's world suddenly opened up and the rages were calmed because she now had a way to express herself in a way that could be understood. Helen not only learned to use sign language but learned to speak with her voice through countless hours of placing her fingers on Annie's throat, lips, and nose so she could learn how speech felt and replicate it.

Annie lost much of her sight to trachoma at age five. Her abusive, alcoholic father left her in an orphanage when she was seven. She begged a State official to let her go to school when he visited the orphanage. She regained some sight after a series of surgeries and graduated as valedictorian from the Perkins School for the Blind.

Helen and Annie were at each other's side from 1887 until the teacher's death in the 1930s. They accomplished more than anyone ever dared dream for either of them. This story to me is one of the pinnacles of what can be accomplished by a dedicated teacher. It's what perseverance between student and teacher can achieve. It innovates and produces hope.

Although it's only a photograph I was excited to learn of the discovery and I paused to again consider these two women who amazed the world. I'm counting them this week and the inspiration they've given me since I was seven.

Continuing Education

Jillie tagged me saying I have to come up with 5-10 classes to improve my life and take one of the classes she has listed for herself. First off let me say I will be signing up for her offering of...

How to walk with 2 left feet. **prerequisites: the ability to fall, stumble, run into something for no reason at all.the ability to trip when there is nothing to trip overturning and walking into walls.


I once proposed a number of thesis titles for master's level credit since some institutes of higher learning offer credit for real life experience. Here are those ideas.

1. The Inverse Relationship between Juvenile Comprehension and Direct Parental Command: A Longitudinal Study in Selective Deafness

2. Chaos Theory: An Observation of the Entropic Properties of Children's Bedrooms

3. Motherheimers: A Statistical Examination of the Dementia-inducing Effects of Watching 'Barney' and 'Teletubbies'

4. Transmogrification of Cotton to Iron: A Peculiar Alchemy Correlating Missing Socks to a Proliferation of Wire Hangers

5. Culinary Cartographic Disorder: Efficacious Treatments for those Unable to Locate Food in a Fully Stocked Pantry or Refrigerator




But Jillie wants classes to improve my life so I am compelled to come up with some new offerings.


Wealth Building By Using Ebay to Tidy the House: This course is offered both in the economics and health departments due to its benefit for reducing stress as it increases cash flow. Students will learn how to avoid nagging spouses and children to pick up after themselves by simply collecting all unattended items and selling them on eBay. Students will also learn how to successfully market the items found around the house in succinct but attention grabbing ads.
Required materials: computer with Internet connection and digital camera



Surviving Adolescents: Course will cover translation of various grunts and slang in current usage, interpretation of blank looks, coping with selective deafness and blame shifting, and motivation techniques. Advanced students may pursue independent study in public humiliation of teens through parental wardrobe choices.
Required materials: teen to english dictionary, bullwhip, cattle prod, valium (for parental use), tie dye



Safe Ziplining: Students will master the use of harnesses and helmets to avoid compound fractures while still enjoying the thrill of speed as flight is simulated.
Required materials: Helmet, harness, bubble-wrap suit, crash pads, proof of current health insurance


Any other suggestions for me? What classes would you take?

It's the most wonderful time of the year...

I am happy to report everyone at the House of Lime survived the first day of school yesterday. Honestly, I wasn't quite ready to see the kids go because it was a weird summer with no family vacation except a single day trip so I felt like we missed some reconnect time. Of course, I am no great fan of having my day commence at the ungodly hour of 5:30AM either so I was pretty much dreading that too.

That being said, it was delightful to have a quiet house. It was so quiet I could hear the neighbor's phone ringing across the front half acre of my property. I was also a paragon of productivity. I got 5 loads of laundry done before lunch. Ssssh, don't tell Mr. Lime, he will begin to expect this on a normal basis then how will I blog with any regularity? All you lovely people out there will be deprived of my daily drivel. I don't want to be responsible for upsetting the balance of the blogosphere like that. Do you?

One of the things I love about the first day of school is The Annual Report, Assessment, and Impersonation of Teachers (Hereafter known as ARAIT. Educational types really dig these acronyms. It makes us feel like we are high powered professionals like all you businessmen earning 3 times as much as us). Isaac and Calypso were fairly concise in their presentations. Calypso is already convinced her Spanish teacher is the unholy love child of Hitler and Leona Helmsley (may Trouble defile her grave during his daily walk). For two of his classes, Isaac has one of the same 6th grade teachers Diana had that year. I rather liked the woman and think he will have a good year with her. He informed me when the teacher called roll and got to his name she asked if he was Diana's brother. When he said yes she shook her head and walked away, in jest of course. He then let Diana know if her history makes his life difficult with this lady there would be some rather unpleasant ramifications for her.

After the warm up acts from Calypso and Isaac were finished Diana launched into her famous ARAIT. She has a rather grueling academic schedule ahead of her this year and was more than a tad worried about it. She was relieved to say her Honors Chem teacher seems quite on the ball and approachable, which is good if she doesn't understand something. She will feel freer to ask for help. She was also glad to find the Algebra 2 teacher is from last year so she again knows she is one she is comfortable asking for help when needed. For Geometry she dismissed the woman as somewhat incompetent but said, 'I looked in the book, it's all triangles. I'm good with that. I know triangles.' Alrighty then, she is feeling comfortable about the 3 courses involving her weakest subjects...

She moved on to her favorites, Honors History and AP English. She was a bit panicked about AP instead of Honors English because she has heard horror stories, however, she had the man for Public Speaking and Debate last year. Her comments were, 'I walked in and there he sat with his excruciatingly correct posture and insufferable propriety and his hideous little tie and his weird fingernails, saying nothing. All he does is watch us. He doesn't give us any directions and everyone is just milling around stupidly wondering what to do but I noticed the table over in the corner had thick packets on them so I grabbed one and found a seat, at which point he acknowledged my presence and the tiniest smile eked out the corner of his mouth and he nodded ever so slightly to indicate I did right.' Ah well done, Grasshopper. You are on the path to AP English Enlightenment. The Journey of a Thousand Essays has begun.

As for Honors History, Diana is already seriously questioning the competence of her teacher. This is not a good thing. I fear for the mental well being of this poor woman by the end of the year. I know what Diana does to teachers she believes to be inept. She also reports the woman's voice has all the dulcet tones of nails scraping a chalkboard. Wait, they use white boards now. I wonder how fingernails sound on them? Not nearly so wince-worthy. Alas, the loss of such wonderful analogies with the advent of new and improved writing surfaces...but I digress. Anyway, apparently Diana actually began to plug her ears and was questioned when the teacher noticed. She is already working on a list of excuses for ear plugging. 'I was fixing my head band. I was brushing the bangs out of my eyes. I was trying to harmonize with your sonorous voice.'

She assures me she will not be able to learn anything from the History teacher's lectures because will carefully block out her voice. She intends to pass by reading the book and doing the homework, after all that's how she got through Honors History last year. She went on to inform me she, along with large segments of the class, fell asleep every day. This actually bothered her because she very much liked and respected the teacher, who she also said made the class very interesting, and she does have a true interest in American history. I know this teacher also liked her. She tells me classmates used to poke each other when they saw each other nodding off. (Ok, Joe, you're the Designated Poker today. If you see me nod off, hit me. If I begin drooling it's your fault and you'll pay for the textbook to be replaced, not me!) Apparently most of the class fell asleep on him though and one day he asked her what on earth he was doing to make all his honors students fall asleep during 7th period and if students dreaded his class. She responded, 'I look forward to your class partially because I know I will get to sleep and have some recuperation. Oh! That's not because the class sucks. It's great. You're great. I love history. It just happens to be scheduled when my circadian rhythms dictate I sleep, and I suppose the same for the rest of the class.' Anyone else see this poor guy have every last shred of hope sucked from him? I think he might want to invest in an electric cattle prod to give to the designated poker during each class.

Wish us luck! Maybe wish the teachers luck too!