asparagus harvesting has never been for the faint-hearted with pickers crawling into dense thorn bushes to pick the delicate shoots from the undergrowth.
3 hours ago
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Asparagus Standoff
This headline, Cypriots and UN soldiers in asparagus standoff, raised some Veggie-Tales images in my head, but apparently it is a very serious situation. I never knew that
Friday, February 27, 2009
Poetry Friday - Late at Night in Bed
It's been a long time since I did a Poetry Friday post of my own, as opposed to just linking you to the list of other people's posts. This week I have no excuse at all, since I have been on vacation. I finished all my grading last Saturday and have been able to relax completely. It has been wonderful!
And yet, as this poem reminds me, I don't ever relax completely. I am always alert, listening for what is going wrong, or what might go wrong in a minute. Just last night I was tiptoeing around while everyone slept, checking on the children, checking on the quiet empty living room.
Late at Night in Bed
by Gregory Djanikian
My wife tells me she hears a beetle
Scurrying across the kitchen floor.
She says our daughter is dreaming
Too loudly, just listen, her eyelids
Are fluttering like butterflies.
What about the thunder, I say,
What about the dispatches from the police car
Parked outside, or me rolling over like a whale?
She tells me there’s a leaf falling
And grazing the downstairs window,
Or it could be glass cutters, diamonds,
Thieves working their hands toward the latch.
She tells me our son is breathing too quickly,
Is it pneumonia, is it the furnace
Suddenly pumping monoxides through the house?
So when my wife says sleep, she means
A closing of the eyes, a tuning
Of the ears to ultra frequencies.
(It is what always happens
When there are children, the bed
Becoming at night a listening post,
Each little ting forewarning disaster.)
Later in the poem comes my favorite stanza:
My wife stirs, Be glad, she says,
Sound doesn’t carry far, that you don’t hear
The whole of it, cries in the night,
Children in other cities, hurts, silences.
Indeed, I am glad that I don't hear all of it, for what I do hear is quite enough to keep me listening, and worrying, and fretting, and praying.
Here's the rest of this wonderful poem. And here's today's Poetry Friday roundup.
And yet, as this poem reminds me, I don't ever relax completely. I am always alert, listening for what is going wrong, or what might go wrong in a minute. Just last night I was tiptoeing around while everyone slept, checking on the children, checking on the quiet empty living room.
Late at Night in Bed
by Gregory Djanikian
My wife tells me she hears a beetle
Scurrying across the kitchen floor.
She says our daughter is dreaming
Too loudly, just listen, her eyelids
Are fluttering like butterflies.
What about the thunder, I say,
What about the dispatches from the police car
Parked outside, or me rolling over like a whale?
She tells me there’s a leaf falling
And grazing the downstairs window,
Or it could be glass cutters, diamonds,
Thieves working their hands toward the latch.
She tells me our son is breathing too quickly,
Is it pneumonia, is it the furnace
Suddenly pumping monoxides through the house?
So when my wife says sleep, she means
A closing of the eyes, a tuning
Of the ears to ultra frequencies.
(It is what always happens
When there are children, the bed
Becoming at night a listening post,
Each little ting forewarning disaster.)
Later in the poem comes my favorite stanza:
My wife stirs, Be glad, she says,
Sound doesn’t carry far, that you don’t hear
The whole of it, cries in the night,
Children in other cities, hurts, silences.
Indeed, I am glad that I don't hear all of it, for what I do hear is quite enough to keep me listening, and worrying, and fretting, and praying.
Here's the rest of this wonderful poem. And here's today's Poetry Friday roundup.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Blog Break
So, you miss a day or two of posting, and before you know it, it's been two weeks. I didn't intend to take a blog break but it looks as though I did anyway. Last week I took a quick trip to the States, and as usual, preparing to have a sub and then clearing up after having a sub took more time than the trip itself. I still haven't finished all the grading but the end is in sight now.
I had a wonderful time; I hung out with a friend who used to live here and the two of us went to a teacher retreat together. I visited a bookstore (and came back laden with some new choices for my students), Wal Mart, Target, an international grocery store and more than one restaurant.
I also got to visit a state-of-the-art middle school and drool over Promethean boards and carts full of laptops and wireless-enabled hallways and tens of thousands of dollars worth of musical instruments. I might be tempted to be discontented with the resources in my school after seeing these things, but when I compare my own classroom to those of the vast majority of the teachers in this country, many of which don't even have walls, I can't complain.
I came back to students who were happy to see me and my ordinary life goes on. It's always nice to have a change and a break, and mine did me good.
I had a wonderful time; I hung out with a friend who used to live here and the two of us went to a teacher retreat together. I visited a bookstore (and came back laden with some new choices for my students), Wal Mart, Target, an international grocery store and more than one restaurant.
I also got to visit a state-of-the-art middle school and drool over Promethean boards and carts full of laptops and wireless-enabled hallways and tens of thousands of dollars worth of musical instruments. I might be tempted to be discontented with the resources in my school after seeing these things, but when I compare my own classroom to those of the vast majority of the teachers in this country, many of which don't even have walls, I can't complain.
I came back to students who were happy to see me and my ordinary life goes on. It's always nice to have a change and a break, and mine did me good.
Sunday, February 01, 2009
Reading Update
Book #1 of 2009 was Son of the Mob, by Gordon Korman. I picked up this book because of an article I read in a teacher magazine about pairing classics with YA books. This was supposed to be a great companion for Romeo and Juliet. It's the story of a mobster's son who falls for an FBI agent's daughter. It was OK, but not great. I put it in my classroom library and while several kids have started it, I don't think anyone has finished it.
Book #2 was The Splendor of Silence, by Indu Sundaresan. I enjoyed the portrayal of India in the 40s, in the last days of the Raj.
Book #3 was His Majesty's Dragon, by Naomi Novik. I bought this for my classroom based on a review I read, but I don't think it is going to hold the interest of most of my students. It moves a little too slowly for them, and the vocabulary is too challenging for most in my opinion. However, I enjoyed it myself. It's a bit difficult to classify - sort of an alternative history, except that it's fantasy. Perhaps one of the jacket blurbs (quoted from Time magazine) says it best: "Enthralling reading - like Jane Austen playing Dungeons & Dragons with Eragon's Christopher Paolini." Set in the Napoleonic Wars, the series imagines an Aerial Corps which consists of valiant aviators flying dragons. Ultimately, though, I found it a bit difficult to suspend disbelief. Not about the dragons - that part I accepted willingly and with great delight. No, I just couldn't swallow that the mores among the aviators are so - well, 21st century. Laurence, coming in from outside, fights against his shock - but he isn't shocked enough. Yes, this is the period of Jane Austen, and judging by the things her characters get het up about, Laurence would not adjust so easily. That said, I will probably read the rest of the series if I get the chance. The book is great fun and I am probably being ridiculous to ask for social verisimilitude in a dragon book anyway.
Book #4 was a wonderful book called Fieldwork, by Mischa Berlinski. To make reference once again to a blurb on the book: "A reader doesn't have to have any interest in Christian missionary work, anthropology, or the hill tribes of Thailand to be riveted," says The Christian Science Monitor. As it happens I'm intensely interested in the first two, and it didn't take a big stretch to become interested in the third. Mischa Berlinski is in Thailand because his girlfriend is teaching at an international school. He finds out about a mysterious story - an anthropologist shot a missionary. Soon he is enthralled and must find out more and more. The reader quickly feels the same way. I loved the sardonic, yet sympathetic portrayals of all the different kinds of characters. Some examples:
While this is an intelligent book and was a finalist for the National Book Award, it's also a great story (unlike another book I abandoned halfway through this week because in spite of all the rapturous comments on the back, there just didn't seem to be much of a plot). It is surprising, and funny, and heartbreaking. I recommend it highly - it's certainly the best book I've read so far this year!
Book #2 was The Splendor of Silence, by Indu Sundaresan. I enjoyed the portrayal of India in the 40s, in the last days of the Raj.
Book #3 was His Majesty's Dragon, by Naomi Novik. I bought this for my classroom based on a review I read, but I don't think it is going to hold the interest of most of my students. It moves a little too slowly for them, and the vocabulary is too challenging for most in my opinion. However, I enjoyed it myself. It's a bit difficult to classify - sort of an alternative history, except that it's fantasy. Perhaps one of the jacket blurbs (quoted from Time magazine) says it best: "Enthralling reading - like Jane Austen playing Dungeons & Dragons with Eragon's Christopher Paolini." Set in the Napoleonic Wars, the series imagines an Aerial Corps which consists of valiant aviators flying dragons. Ultimately, though, I found it a bit difficult to suspend disbelief. Not about the dragons - that part I accepted willingly and with great delight. No, I just couldn't swallow that the mores among the aviators are so - well, 21st century. Laurence, coming in from outside, fights against his shock - but he isn't shocked enough. Yes, this is the period of Jane Austen, and judging by the things her characters get het up about, Laurence would not adjust so easily. That said, I will probably read the rest of the series if I get the chance. The book is great fun and I am probably being ridiculous to ask for social verisimilitude in a dragon book anyway.
Book #4 was a wonderful book called Fieldwork, by Mischa Berlinski. To make reference once again to a blurb on the book: "A reader doesn't have to have any interest in Christian missionary work, anthropology, or the hill tribes of Thailand to be riveted," says The Christian Science Monitor. As it happens I'm intensely interested in the first two, and it didn't take a big stretch to become interested in the third. Mischa Berlinski is in Thailand because his girlfriend is teaching at an international school. He finds out about a mysterious story - an anthropologist shot a missionary. Soon he is enthralled and must find out more and more. The reader quickly feels the same way. I loved the sardonic, yet sympathetic portrayals of all the different kinds of characters. Some examples:
Gunther the yoga teacher knew all about the Walkers: he, too, had heard stories...."I haff never met them," Gunther said. "But I hear so many things. I do not like this kind of Christian who liff in a big house with so many servants, and then tell the people how they must liff. Is that for you to be a Christian?" Gunther looked at me severely. I shook my head. Gunther himself lived in a big house with many servants and told many people how they must live, but it did not seem the right moment to mention that.
Tom Riley knew the Walker story well, having passed many long evenings in the company of one or another of the Walkers as they went from lonely Dyalo village to lonely Dyalo village, preaching - and in preaching, like war, you get to know folks.
...the fourth-grade teacher at Rachel's school, a quiet Burmese woman...broke her wrist in a tuk-tuk accident. Mr. Tim...asked me to take over her class while she convalesced, and for a week I taught school, an experience so exhausting that I didn't think once of anthropologists or missionaries, just savages.
...she induced in Martiya [the anthropologist] a considerable sense of First World guilt and discomfort. (This discomfort was intensified by Lai-Ma's habit of taking Martiya aside and saying, "Oh, I am tired! How my bones ache! How I wish I were rich like you and could do nothing all day!") Hauling just one plastic petrol-jerry of water up the hill was enough to exhaust Matiya, but Lai-Ma would inevitably carry two, one in each hand, and on her back in a plaited basket, a dozen hollow bamboo tubes each overflowing with water, the whole heavy load held in place with a tumpline across her forehead....Matiya felt like a freeloader every time she saw her in the course of the day.
While this is an intelligent book and was a finalist for the National Book Award, it's also a great story (unlike another book I abandoned halfway through this week because in spite of all the rapturous comments on the back, there just didn't seem to be much of a plot). It is surprising, and funny, and heartbreaking. I recommend it highly - it's certainly the best book I've read so far this year!
Friday, January 30, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Overheard
In my classroom today, I heard a student say to another, "No, I'm sorry, I can't come to your party because I don't get along with you."
You have to admire that kind of candor.
You have to admire that kind of candor.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Sunday Morning
Well, the electricity is fixed (hooray!) and I'm staying home from church with a sick child (boo!). I've been looking at the Obamameter, which is tracking which of President Obama's campaign promises he has already kept, is in the process of keeping, doesn't keep, compromises on, and so on. On day five in office, he's already kept five of his promises and fourteen are in the works. One of the ones in the works is getting his daughters a puppy. Come on, sir! Let's get moving!
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Saturday
As usual, I am working in my classroom on this Saturday morning, trying to get caught up, plan for next week, and generally get my head together. This has been a bit of a hectic week, but I had several examples of what we as teachers always want to see - kids engaged with the material, or at least engaged by or with something.
One day this week we had some visitors to the campus and my administrator brought them in to visit my room. Not always the most risk-free thing to do when I'm teaching seventh grade, but this time it was wonderful. The kids were working in groups, everyone was on-task, and there was a low, purposeful buzz, rather than a roar of random racket. It's always fun to show off your students at their best.
Another class had a bake sale this week and it was not an unqualified success. Because of all the conflict among the kids in the class and the time we had missed already while the last brownies were sold, I threw out my plans and we brainstormed how the next bake sale could be better. The enthusiasm of the kids was good to see, and eventually most of them had stopped throwing blame and were coming up with great ideas.
In my ESL class, a simple activity where the students had to identify linking verbs and action verbs somehow engaged everyone. The kids were yelling back and forth, "AV!" and "LV!" and having earnest (and loud) arguments in their first language about which answer was best. I called it Grammar as a Combat Sport but one of the kids called it Extreme Grammar and I liked that even better. Afterwards we had a good discussion about how at times when we are emotional about or interested in what we are doing, our heart language (in their case not English) comes out of our mouths much more readily than our educational language. One of the students said that when she tells someone in her own language about an event, it feels as though the other person was there, whereas when she speaks in English there's more of a distance. Almost nobody at our school speaks English on the soccer field.
Each of these incidents reminded me how much I love teaching and, especially, how much I love teaching these particular kids, each one of whom is unique and full of potential.
I'm about to go home, since all my lessons for next week are done and my copies are made. I have plenty of grading but I can do that at home. We are having electrical problems at home again so I probably won't be online much for the rest of the weekend and won't have the time to read today's Saturday Review of Books.
Have a good weekend!
One day this week we had some visitors to the campus and my administrator brought them in to visit my room. Not always the most risk-free thing to do when I'm teaching seventh grade, but this time it was wonderful. The kids were working in groups, everyone was on-task, and there was a low, purposeful buzz, rather than a roar of random racket. It's always fun to show off your students at their best.
Another class had a bake sale this week and it was not an unqualified success. Because of all the conflict among the kids in the class and the time we had missed already while the last brownies were sold, I threw out my plans and we brainstormed how the next bake sale could be better. The enthusiasm of the kids was good to see, and eventually most of them had stopped throwing blame and were coming up with great ideas.
In my ESL class, a simple activity where the students had to identify linking verbs and action verbs somehow engaged everyone. The kids were yelling back and forth, "AV!" and "LV!" and having earnest (and loud) arguments in their first language about which answer was best. I called it Grammar as a Combat Sport but one of the kids called it Extreme Grammar and I liked that even better. Afterwards we had a good discussion about how at times when we are emotional about or interested in what we are doing, our heart language (in their case not English) comes out of our mouths much more readily than our educational language. One of the students said that when she tells someone in her own language about an event, it feels as though the other person was there, whereas when she speaks in English there's more of a distance. Almost nobody at our school speaks English on the soccer field.
Each of these incidents reminded me how much I love teaching and, especially, how much I love teaching these particular kids, each one of whom is unique and full of potential.
I'm about to go home, since all my lessons for next week are done and my copies are made. I have plenty of grading but I can do that at home. We are having electrical problems at home again so I probably won't be online much for the rest of the weekend and won't have the time to read today's Saturday Review of Books.
Have a good weekend!
Friday, January 23, 2009
Poetry Friday - Praise Song for the Day
I am sure I won't be the only one to post Elizabeth Alexander's inauguration poem for today's Poetry Friday. I heard lots of complaints about it, but I think it's beautiful. Here's my favorite stanza:
Praise song for struggle, praise song for the day.
Praise song for every hand-lettered sign,
the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables.
And here's the rest of the poem.
Here's an article from a Minneapolis-St. Paul paper where local poets reflect on the effect of poetry at an event like the inauguration.
And I'm wondering, why have only Democratic presidents, so far, had poetry at their inaugurations? (Kennedy, Clinton twice, and now Obama.)
Here's today's Poetry Friday roundup.
Praise song for struggle, praise song for the day.
Praise song for every hand-lettered sign,
the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables.
And here's the rest of the poem.
Here's an article from a Minneapolis-St. Paul paper where local poets reflect on the effect of poetry at an event like the inauguration.
And I'm wondering, why have only Democratic presidents, so far, had poetry at their inaugurations? (Kennedy, Clinton twice, and now Obama.)
Here's today's Poetry Friday roundup.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Pilgrims, by Tiel Aisha Ansari
Tiel Aisha Ansari wrote another poem that I loved. This one is about faith.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Inauguration Day
I missed most of the festivities the first time around, since I was teaching. As the excitement was building, I was intercepting a note which read, in part, "Who do u like?" But as soon as possible, I was online watching snippets of video. I still haven't heard Obama's whole speech but I read the text of it. And I did get to watch live as the new president and his wife walked down the street, looking relaxed and happy (and surrounded by security personnel who didn't look at all relaxed or happy).
It was an exciting day. I would love to see the enthusiasm and goodwill of today last into the months and years ahead.
It was an exciting day. I would love to see the enthusiasm and goodwill of today last into the months and years ahead.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Betancourt and Johnston
I just listened to a remarkable podcast. Alan Johnston, the BBC journalist who was kidnapped in Gaza in 2007, was interviewing Ingrid Betancourt, who was held for six years by Colombian radicals. Either one of these people would have been an interesting interview subject, but the combination of the two of them reflecting on their experiences and what they learned from them was amazing.
I was brought to tears several times, particularly when Betancourt talked about how important faith was for her, when they both discussed the importance of the radios they were allowed to have and the messages they heard over them, when Betancourt told of learning about the death of her father by reading a piece of newspaper with which her captors had wrapped vegetables, and then at the end when the two of them imagined a kidnap victim listening to their discussion and gave some words of hope for that person.
They came across as two gentle, reflective people, forever changed by a horrible experience, but not embittered.
Here's an article about the interview, with links where you can listen to or watch it. I highly recommend it.
I was brought to tears several times, particularly when Betancourt talked about how important faith was for her, when they both discussed the importance of the radios they were allowed to have and the messages they heard over them, when Betancourt told of learning about the death of her father by reading a piece of newspaper with which her captors had wrapped vegetables, and then at the end when the two of them imagined a kidnap victim listening to their discussion and gave some words of hope for that person.
They came across as two gentle, reflective people, forever changed by a horrible experience, but not embittered.
Here's an article about the interview, with links where you can listen to or watch it. I highly recommend it.
Friday, January 16, 2009
And Again, It's Poetry Friday
Another whole week with no post! I have to remedy this soon! Meanwhile, here's the Poetry Friday roundup.
Friday, January 09, 2009
Poetry Friday
We went back to school this week. It's been a good week but a busy one, and once again I have no Poetry Friday post. But here's today's Poetry Friday roundup.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Mourning
I saw the thumbnail of the picture above (a Reuters photo) on Google News and it looked like a flock of birds, as all the hands of these mourners fluttered. Here's the article about the latest suicide bombing in Baghdad. "Female suicide bomber," says the headline.
When will all the senseless killing end?
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Reading List
Over at Semicolon there is a special edition of the Saturday Review of Books. People are linking to their reading lists from 2008. You can take a look here.
Here's my list:
Book 1
Books 2 through 5
Books 6 through 8
Book 9
Books 10 and 11
Books 12 through 16
Books 17 through 20
Books 21 through 24
Books 25 through 41
Book 42
Books 43 through 48
Books 49 through 55
Books 56 and 57
Books 58 through 60
Sorry not to take the time to list every title, but I really shouldn't have even done this, since I'm supposed to be getting ready for school to start again on Monday! Most of these posts have at least a little bit of comment on the book, though some of them are just lists. I do enjoy keeping track of the books I read so that I can look back on them, and I'll be doing the same this year. I've finished one already...stay tuned...
Here's my list:
Book 1
Books 2 through 5
Books 6 through 8
Book 9
Books 10 and 11
Books 12 through 16
Books 17 through 20
Books 21 through 24
Books 25 through 41
Book 42
Books 43 through 48
Books 49 through 55
Books 56 and 57
Books 58 through 60
Sorry not to take the time to list every title, but I really shouldn't have even done this, since I'm supposed to be getting ready for school to start again on Monday! Most of these posts have at least a little bit of comment on the book, though some of them are just lists. I do enjoy keeping track of the books I read so that I can look back on them, and I'll be doing the same this year. I've finished one already...stay tuned...
Friday, January 02, 2009
Poetry Friday - Leisure
Yesterday I posted about my word for this year. It's a very simple one: LOOK. Poetry is written by people who look, people who notice the things that others walk by without taking a second glance.
I thought about this poem during our beach trip just after Christmas. The country where I live is a place in which staring is not considered rude. We had a gentleman come and sit on the beach and stare at us. We were the only people there, and he was looking right at us, so I don't think he was there for the scenery. At first I felt a bit annoyed, and then I started thinking of the opening words of the William Henry Davies poem "Leisure."
Leisure
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
You can read the rest of the poem here.
I don't have a lot of time to stand and stare; I spend most of my days rushing around accomplishing the work on my to-do list. This year I want to take more time to pay attention.
Here's today's roundup.
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