ROC City Compost Pilot

My wife and I have been composting counter waste and yard clippings at home for a number of years. Our composting journey began back in 2006 with a home-made composting pit built with our kids, and evolved into a purchased covered composting bin in 2013. Eventually we purchased a service to pick up our compostable waste weekly. At the start of this summer, the opportunity to be part of the free City of Rochester's community composting pilot program presented itself and we took advantage of it.

Our participation in the pilot resulted in a new wrinkle being added to my weekly Wednesday routine as, unlike the paid service, the pilot requires participants to drop-off of their individual filled buckets, provided at no-cost, to one two locations. The official documentation regarding the pilot posted on the City of Rochester’s website succinctly, and accurately, describes the experience: “City staff will sign you in, weigh your bucket of food waste, empty it and hand it back to you so that you can continue to collect food waste and drop-off on a weekly basis.” It really was that simple and oddly enjoyable to view the scale numbers come up to judge growth from the previous week. I would envision that as we, and others, become more acclimated with the list of potentially compostable contents, the weekly weights will continue to rise.

I also observed another possible benefits of the nescient pilot: the potential to extend beyond the possibility of further limiting greenhouses gases and into community and culture building. The professionals staffing the table were very helpful in assisting/educating folks with navigating the process if there was any confusion. As these were the same folks as the previous week, and only the second week of drop-off, it was nice that they remembered who I was and created a nice opportunity for developing a sense of community among the composters. (They engaged the person who stopped in immediately after me, so this interaction did feel felt sincere.)

This new opportunity is a far cry from the chicken wire pit we put up 12(!) years ago, and though we still use the compost bin for grass clipping and leaves, the opportunity to have food waste taken away is for composting eliminates the possible concerns of rodents and bugs finding there ways into the yard. As with any pilot, there are sure to be hiccups and challenges to be addressed and systems to be refined (thus the term "pilot"). However, two weeks into the pilot, the program, and culture building around composting, is to off to a solid start.

Roadie: Victoria, British Columbia

View from the Harbour Pathway, Victoria, British Columbia. (7/4/19)

Just as we spent Canada Day in Juneau, Alaska, we spent Independence Day in British Columbia, Canada. It was a very brief stop and the final port of call on our seven day Alaskan cruise. The cruise ship dock is located at Ogden Point, a 35-minute walk to downtown Victoria. As you might expect we were beginning to miss home, but we're still game for a self-guided walking tour of Victoria, British Columbia. Our boat was docked for only 4 hours so it was a nice low-key way to conclude what had been an exciting six days.

Aquatic life beside the cruise ship on our way to Victoria, British Columbia. (7/4/19)

Look closely and you'll find the outline below water of a dolphin that swam
beside the ship. (7/4/19)

A humpback whale exhaling. (7/4/19)

View from our patio of neighborhood to the left of the Ogden Cruise
Ship Terminal. (7/4/19)

View from the Harbour Pathway. (7/4/19)

(7/4/19)

Close-up of sweet peas, a flowering plant, not the vegetable. (7/4/19)

View from the Harbour Pathway. (7/4/19)

One of the garden areas in Beacon Hill Park. (7/4/19)

The British Columbia Parliament Buildings home to the Legislative Assembly
of British Columbia. (7/4/19)

Close-up of giant sequoia outside British Columbia
Parliment. (7/4/19)

Close-up of the Knowledge Totem Pole carved by Coast
Salish artist Cicero August. The pole was originally created for the
 1994 Commonwealth Games. (7/4/19)

(7/4/19)

(7/4/19)

Community garden in James Bay Village area of suburban Victoria,
British Columbia. (7/4/19)

Community garden in James Bay Village suburban Victoria,
British Columbia. (7/4/19)

2018 Johnny's Runnin' of the Green

A beautiful morning for a 5 mile run with 1,000 or so of my closest

sort-of acquaintances. (3/17/18)

Weather: Fair, 24°F (feels like 12°F) , 80% Humidity, Wind: WSW @ 13 mph.
Route: Johnny's Running of the Green, an out-and-back course.
Time (Pace): 41:29 (8:08 min/mile) Unofficial.

Pre-Race Observations: With my forty-ninth birthday less than two months away, I have only recently returned to actively "running". My "competitive" racing "career" has entered a new stage beginning with this morning's awesome annual community run, the Johnny's Runnin' of the Green. In years past, I would fancy myself occasionally competitive. Now, I am just happy to be out there.

Following January's aborted Winter Warrior Half-Marathon, due to very inclement weather and, if I am honest, poor pre-race training on my part, this morning's (morn's?) run is my first organized one since December's equally festive Reindeer Run 5k. In the interim, I have been rehabbing my hamstrings, reading books, and whining about the weather (oddly, a time-honored tradition for those in Western New York born to it!).

Pre-run jitters less of a problem when

you're doing it for fun. (3/17/18)

After getting out and about on one-day-icy, one-day-spring-like roads for the past week-and-a-half, I registered for the Flower City Half Marathon this past week. This run takes place toward the end of April and today's run is just another step toward accomplishing crossing that finish line with a smile. This is my sixth Johnny's, and third consecutive one, and after posting admirable times the previous two years (38:20/7:40 per in 2016 and 38:33/7:43 in 2017), I suspect the law of diminishing returns will bite hard this year as I project a finishing time of around 45 minutes based upon the past two weeks. Like most "old grey mares", this one ain't what he used to be. An increasing comfort with that new reality does not mean I am resigned to not going faster, further in the future!

Post-Run Reflections: As usual, the Johnny's Runnin' of the Green was a festive, enjoyable community event regardless of how well one might have run. Lots of friendly faces, green t-shirts and picturesque skies made for a very pleasant morning jaunt. Though I am a little socially awkward, it is always nice to see some familiar faces enjoying their time together as a community of runners. It is even nicer to be a small part of it for a few hours on a cold March morning.

I felt remarkably well for initially feeling so unprepared to run. Though my pace was slightly slower than in years past, I was happy with both the final time and mile pace. As is to be expected with a back-of-the-pack position at the start (intentionally), my first mile was at a leisurely 8:49 pace though the final two miles were consistently faster (7:51 and 7:42). In both instances I settled within 5-10 meters of faster runners in an effort to pace with them. The pace also allowed me the breath with which to thank the many volunteers and police officers who helped keep the course safe.

While there was some slight discomfort in my hamstring, overall, I felt strong and excited about what comes next. With a little ice, core work and stretching, I look to be ready for tomorrow morning's longer, slower training run and ultimately (fingers crossed) ready for that half-marathon a few weeks.

First Time Long Time (About Time)

I've realized what I need to do if I'm feeling down-in-the-dumps, and it is an opportunity that has been right in front of me for (too?) many years. This morning, after signing up for and running a multitude road races over the past ten(!) years, I finally took advantage of the opportunity to volunteer at one.

I have attempted to fill my summer break with personal challenges (reading, exercise, projects, and so on), and when I received an e-mail looking for volunteer road marshals for a local 5k, I took the bait. I have often talked about my desire to contribute to the local race community (other than coaching), but when I do go to watch a run without participating, I feel awkward for not running myself. Fortunately for me, this morning's 5k was a women's only race (with one man earning a spot via lottery), so the frustration of watching was ameliorated. Well, that and I woke up early to run on my own.

From the perspective of a race participant, I try to thank as many volunteers during a race as my breath will allow, naively believing that the good karma generated would help me during the race's last miles. On the surface, I suppose it may appear to be a thankless role (though I would not make it through most races without the encouragement they offer). That superficial assumption on my part could not be more inaccurate.

In addition to the free t-shirt (pic to the left), I was pleased to see that so many of the runners were also inclined to sincerely thank volunteers for helping out. As a road marshal, I was assigned a side street to "close" during the race and to direct any traffic that might try to get through. I was incredibly fortunate to also have a police officer working the corner with me (that doesn't sound right, does it?), and together we cheered for each runner as they passed by. We were stationed just before the 2-mile mark so there were plenty of "Great job, ladies!", ""Over half-way there!", and high-fives to be shared.

We in the Rochester, New York running community are VERY fortunate to have a number of high quality race promoters/organizers each of whom make the ability to volunteer easy and non-threatening (scary!), and ultimately rewarding. I would venture to guess that regardless of where you live, you have a great race promoter in you area, too. If like me, you experience some social anxiety, I strongly recommend volunteering at a local road race as a means of giving back. If nothing else, the anonymous "thank yous" received, and the experience of interacting with members of the community like police officers and spectators, is a very positive. I am glad that I finally took the step to help out and look forward to doing so again in the future.

Painted Utility Boxes Project, Part 1

Corner of Culver Road and Norris Drive. (7/6/15)

Whether walking, running, bicycling, or (especially) driving, it is easy to miss objects of potential interest. It is not unusual to overlook statues, storefronts or flags in the sensory overload that can occur as one makes his or her way down any urban area. Sometimes we are too involved in our own world at the time to recognize or notice that which is present in the environment around us.

Easy to miss; the utility box
above in context. (7/10/15)

With summer break in full swing, I find myself looking for "projects" to keep busy. There is only so much yard to mulch or grass to cut, so I recently began working on a photo project I've long had in mind. Just as there has been a recent increase in the number of Free Little Libraries in our neighborhoods, it is difficult not to take note of the many painted utility boxes that continue to brighten many of our Rochester community's street corners. The majority of them have been on display (seemingly under the radar) for more than five years, and last week I notice a few utility boxes sporting new-looking industrial brown or green camouflage, signaling that I need to get started before it's too late.

Despite the number of painted utility boxes in our community, a quick online search reveals very little concrete information about the public art initiative that resulted in their creation. Only one (not pictured here) was even noted in a newsletter dated a few years ago. I have also noticed that utility boxes that had featured artwork have been recently repainted industrial light green.

Corner of Monroe Avenue and Suter Terrace. (7/6/15)

Do you see what I see? (7/6/15)

Corner of Monroe Avenue and Rosedale Street. (7/6/15)

Some, like those pictured here, are utility boxes that I have passed frequently while running or bicycling in the past. The pictures posted today are on the Southeast side of the city, the part of Rochester in which I reside. In most cases, the artwork is unsigned and therefore anonymous (only the one at the top of the post had any signature, which was indecipherable). Solely based on the angular style, however, the three below (all on stretch of Monroe Avenue) appear to have likely been painted (or at least designed) by the same artist.

n

Corner of Culver Road and Monroe Avenue. (7/6/15)

Over the next few weeks, I will be using my "cross-train" and "rest" days to bike the hoods searching for utility boxes in hopes of finding those that are decorated to digitally document them. With any luck, there will be other unplanned photos to be taken... it's up for me to just pay closer attention.

Corner of Oxford and Monroe... the "color" of things to come? (7/10/15)

American Sentences Redux

Two examples shaped from my own freewriting in class.

Following our recent work with the traditional 5-7-5 haiku format (albeit with subject matter that was more reminiscent of a senryu), I decided to continue an exploration of compressed language forms by introducing my AP classes to a new, less well-known play on the 17 syllable poetic form, the American Sentence. A truly Western take on the Eastern haiku, this form originated by late Beat poet Allen Ginsberg.


"Publishing" student work from class chart paper drafts.

Ginsberg saw haiku, and the American sentence, as a means of compressing poetry to get "Maximum information" with "minimum number of syllables.” This compressed form allowed for the possibility that Ginsberg's notion that poets are people who notice what they notice could be accessible to everyone.

Though some of my students struggled with writing "good" haiku, I'm hoping that the more concrete, urban bent of the American Sentence will make for more lively, dynamic drafts. I have taught this form for nearly three years now with what I have felt have been pretty good results. The move from haiku to American sentence is a natural one. While still adhering to the 17 syllable standard of the traditional haiku, the imagery included in the American sentence is presented in a linear fashion reflective of the left-to-right reading of English as opposed to the top-to-bottom approach in Japanese haiku.

The process of crafting American sentence is one that lends itself to the existing management activities in my classroom. Students know to pick up their writing journals each day upon entering the classroom. Before even revealing the form, I ask them to freewrite about the lends itself easily to classroom writing process, beginning with a free write. This will give the writer the "clay" with which to shape their lines. The prompt is straightforward: In the next 6 minutes, relax, observe and capture via free write personal sense-based observations about the world around you (our classroom). Use as descriptive a language as you are capable. While it is not incumbent on you to use figurative language strategies, you may find that they come to you—write them down.

Following this journaling exercise, I introduced the class to the form more, well, formally. Based on my own research,  I suggested to the class that an exemplary product would include at least one of the following:

After sharing my own freewrite notes, and modelling the culling of a few possible images for further development into "popping" American sentences, I share the following quick-and-easy process for crafting their own:

As a ways of making the form more collaborative, I asked students to contribute to a chain of lines, by first writing two American Sentences, then selecting the one they felt best met the criteria (evocative, imagisitc, approximately 17 syllables in length). This activity was completed for each of my three Advanced Placement Language and Composition courses, resulting in three community  poems of 20+ lines apiece.

After sharing our class collaborative American Sentence Chain, I task each student with taking the activity home to their friends and families. Students were assigned to both explain this unique poetic form to their victims volunteers and facilitate each person's development of a unique, personal American sentence. The final 17 syllable (fingers-crossed) sentence,  was to then be added to the student's own American sentence chain.

Of course, if the syllable count varies slightly, that's "all good." The American sentence was the result of Ginsberg believing that haiku in the Western tradition placed too much emphasis on counting (syllables), at the expense of developing image. The goal, as with a haiku, is to communicate and image, and if you're luck (or good) evoke a response in the reader.

Seen It (Again): The Garden (2008)

With our seven day Winter Recess taking place this last week of December, and having recently completed an extensive exemplification essay, I invited my AP students to earn some additional credit by taking in one of five prescribed documentary films.

The Task: while viewing one fop the films, students are being asked to track instances in whicc the filmmaker attempted to engage one of the three appeals (ethos, pathos, logos) through the use of music, imagery, and dialogue. After completing a graphic organizer of their observations, students are then being asked to develop three high level questions for use in testing one another regrading the use of the three appeals in documentary film making. Though I had already seen four of the five--with Waiting for Superman (2011) being the lone exception--it was time for me to revisit these films for myself.

I first came across the trailer for The Garden while perusing the online home of Oscilloscope Laboratories, the small film distribution company founded by the Late Adam Yauch (aka MCA) of the music group The Beastie Boys. After seeing the trailer I immediately connected it with the book Seedfolks by Paul Fleischman, a book I had previously taught in eighth grade. Both the film and the book deal with a community garden. Unlike Fleischman's book, however, The Garden is a true story, and as Ernest Hemingway famously said, "All  true stories end in death." This film is not about the death of any one individual, but the passing of an ideal.

In the wake of the 1992 Los Angeles riots, hundreds of mostly Mexican-American families came together and turned a blighted corner of South Central Los Angeles into a 14 acre urban oasis—complete with guavas, papayas and enough fruit and vegetables to feed hundreds of families.

Directed by Scott Hamilton Kennedy, The Garden (2008) is the unflinching look at the struggle between urban farmers and the City of Los Angeles and a powerful developer who wants to evict them and build warehouses. The urban farmers consist primarily of immigrants from Latin American countries where they feared for their lives if they were to speak out. The film follows them as they organize, fight back, and demand a response to the question of, "Where is our 'Justice for all'?"

As aptly summarized on to the film's Facebook page, "The Garden explores the fault lines in American Society. It is the story of the country’s largest urban farm, backroom politics, land developers, money, poverty and power. If everyone told you nothing more could be done, would you give up?"

The Garden is currently available for instant viewing and rental via Netflix, or to be purchased on DVD.

Community Read as School Improvement?

Winter 2009, my (former) students participate in a group discussion of The Call of the Wild
facilitated by a local retired librarian as part of the Big Read program.

As a teacher, I am subject to all brands of professional development and suggested readings prepared meticulously by the most commonly dropped names in "good" education. While I am admittedly absentminded when it comes to my own dropping of these proper names in conversation, I can generally find some valuable information in the articles and books shared. I would, however, struggle to say they were "entertaining" or even, in some case, particularly original.

Each time I read reflections and reviews of the most recent teaching bible du jour, I wonder why it is some folks in positions of authority suggest through their choices of receommended reading, that a book must be written by an author who's last name in an alphabet soup of degrees in order for it to hold some insight into teaching or, more importantly, building a learning community? Maybe it has something to do with the temptation to share certain "hot" edu-books so as to be "cutting edge." Or maybe, those in charge are also subject to meeting their own masters and demonstrating a working knowledge (if not application) of hip pedagogy.

I often wonder what goes through the mind of someone recommending a book to help "teachers teach better." A serious question to ask oneself in this situation is: "To a building full of professionals of varying degrees of education, experience, and (let's face it) interest, how accessible to the these masses are books with phrases like 'research-based,' 'differentiation,' and 'common core'?"

Without a doubt, an understanding of these topics is a necessity (and helpful to keep abreast of the ever changing terminology by which educators are now held accountable), and can hold valuable insight for the reflective educator. But, when one is looking to have staff read "research" why must the suggested selection always be cold, non-fiction, written in the diction that is sleep inducing? Is all "research" dependent on numbers (especially when any tenth grader who disagrees with your interpretation of a survey will tell you--correctly--numbers can say what you want them to)?

Here's an idea I've floated in the past: how about trying to invite students, staff and building faculty to read a work of fiction that has some thought provoking ideas that, though not explicitly about education, standards, and rubrics, gets at the heart of what makes a learning community: developing an understanding of one another. Despite the best intentions of adults professionally developed in bullying and team building, I have yet to see a program get at these issues the way a good story can.

This is at the heart, I believe of the many Big Read initiatives nationwide, which promotes the reading and discussion of a single literary work by a group (town, city, county). A few years ago my classes and I, in cooperation with the school's media specialist, participated in our municipal county's Big read of The Call of the Wild by Jack London, and the results were impressive. As the teacher, I did not facilitate the reading or discussion, a retired librarian came to the school to lead the discussion after the students had voluntarily read the book on their own time in addition to class work. The librarian and I took a value in it, and the students in turn did as well.

Can valuable lessons about community be gleaned from a children's book? Of course, especially when the children's book in question subtly deals with BIG ideas.

"The object in America is to avoid contact, to treat all as foes unless they're known to be friends. Here you have a million crabs living in a million crevices... But the garden's greatest benefit, I feel, is not relief to the eyes, but to make the eyes sees our neighbors".~excerpted from Seedfolks by Newbery Medal Winner Paul Fleischman (with illustrations by Judy Pederson) is a book that I have previously taught with while teaching eighth grade English five years ago. It's message and voices have stayed with me.

The synopsis from Barnesandnoble.com describes Seedfolks very concisely:

"A vacant lot, rat-infested and filled with garbage, looked like no place for a garden. Especially to a neighborhood of strangers where no one seems to care. Until one day, a young girl clears a small space and digs into the hard-packed soil to plant her precious bean seeds. Suddenly, the soil holds promise: To Curtis, who believes he can win back Lateesha's heart with a harvest of tomatoes; to Virgil's dad, who sees a fortune to be made from growing lettuce; and even to Maricela, sixteen and pregnant, wishing she were dead."

Seedfolks seems to me an ideal book for a learning community read and discussion. It is a simply written, delicate look at a number of issues of importance to each of us: diversity, difference, acceptance and community, as they are played out through the individual voices of thirteen very different characters--old, young, Haitian, Hispanic, tough, haunted, and hopeful. These voices, together, tell one amazing story about a garden that transforms a neighborhood.

Eagle Scout Project Before & After

Before, Trail 1 (8/19/12).

Despite the weirdly inconsistent shading/coloring of these pictures, I assure you these are the same trail area, just at different points. Those captioned as "Before" were taken when Greg and I went to Scout the site a week prior, and the "After" shots, were taken, well... after the completion of the Scout Eagle Project.

Trail 1 was designed to be an S-shaped walking path. While working on it the first day, the decision was made to add a third access path, so looking at the path from the northern end gave it more of a "J" shape. Greg opted to reuse the downed tree trunks and larger branches to border/edge this trail.

Before, Trail 1 (8/19/12)

Before, Trail 1 (8/19/12).

After, Trail 1 (8/26/12).

After, Trail 1 (8/26/12).

Trail 2 was simply a straight-on access path connecting two riding areas of the Equicenter. This path was lined with stones excavated from what would eventually be groomed to act as the trail heads during the first day of work.



Before, Trail 2 (8/19/12).

After, Trail 2 (8/26/12).

My sense was that those of us who assisted in completing the project felt very satisfied with the final product and proud of having been part of the project. I had hoped to do some volunteering during my summer break, and fro myself, this was a quality way to meet this desire.

Next: after completing the necessary paperwork, calculating the volunteers groups cumulative hours of service, and getting all the proper signatures, sometime later this fall, at a Boy Scout Court of Honor, Greg will receive his Eagle Scout Award!

Eagle Scout Project, Day 2

A sign of the time (and project) outside the Equicenter.

Sunday's two hour shift went by very quickly as all that was left to complete were the small touches that would make the trails accessible and safe. There were exposed roots to pull, dirt to shovel, and areas to be even more carefully leveled.

With five boys (and Greg's mother. father and myself, too) we made short work of the remainder of the Eagle Service Project following the exhaustive five hours put in the previous day. When Greg and I were driving the Gator back to the garage, I asked if he felt relieved that it had finally been completed. "It hasn't really sunk in yet," he replied," it probably won't until I get my Eagle badge."

The crew extraxcting even MORE small exposed roots.

Another fine day driving the Gator between digging... #Sorrynotsorry

Filling divots and uneven sections of the trail.

Probably appropriate to take at least one pic of horses at the Equicenter!

Coming soon: before and after shots of both the trails!