Kiosk of Discarded Cemetery Mementos

Took my mother to visit both my father, grandfather, and grandmother's graves today at Holy Sepulchre Cemetery this morning. In addition to regularly planting flowers at the family stones twice a year, on Memorial Day and Veteran's Day, we visit to replace the small American flags placed there. (Both my father and grandfather are veteran's.) Despite clearly posted grave do's and don'ts regarding decorating sites, I am always surprised by how many place artificial flowers and knick-knacks in memory of their dearly departed. I hadn't given it too much thought, but it does beg the question: what happens to these code violations once they're discovered by the proprietors?

While exiting the cemetery following our visit today we passed what looked to be a small kiosk of discarded items, much like a lost-and-found. Curious, we pulled into the small parking area, and I walked out to find a display of items left behind. Signs encouraged visitors to take things they had left behind back with them, with the caution that they would once again be removed if left again.

The Running Wheel Turns Again

In most matters, I am what can best be described as a "planner." For my work (teaching) it is a fine attribute, especially as I am willing to quickly deviate from a lesson plan if the situation (or class) necessitates it. While a willingness to map out goals, whether personal or educational, appears to be a mostly positive trait, the most significant drawback can be that on occasion I spend too much time planning and not enough time acting: it allows me the out that "I am working on it." Such has been my on-again-off-again love affair with recreational running.

Past best laid plans.

In September, my previous plan culminated in my successfully completing a half marathon, a race that was perfectly scheduled for my purposes as the taper came during the start of the school year and the recovery afterwards was positioned during a period of intense coaching and teaching. But now, weeks later, I find myself saying at the the end each work week, "This weekend I begin a new plan," even going so far as to jot down a course for the following morning.

This morning, after waking up early at the dawn of the second-to-last meet of the high school girls' cross-country meet of the season, I acted. The past three years it has become increasingly difficult to get outside on the streets in "the cold."  Years ago I loved running in the hard pact snow at 5 a.m., an experience which, of late and in much kinder conditions, held little allure. Today was a cool, damp, autumnal one and it was glorious. Inspired (deluded?) by the short, easy three miles I put in, I decided to blog about it here (thus inspiring accountability) and begin to put in action another plan for a future race. In a little over two months I will be running another local half marathon with other more lofty goals crystallizing in the ether beyond January. For now, it has to be first things first.

At least that is the plan.

Definitely Not a Prequel, Not a Sequel, but More of a Soft Reboot

My last "big" race, the 2009 Finger Lakes 50k Trail Race finished in 

5 hours and 31 minutes... almost six years ago.

Three-and-a-half years ago, I completed my last road race, the 2011 MVP Rochester Half-Marathon. At the time, that had been my first race in twelve months, following a 3 year span of racing distances from 5k to 32 miles nearly every other week. While I finished the 13.1 mile 2011 half in 1:42, it was the slowest time I had previously put forth in the distance. I was happy with my effort and proud to simply finish. Once again though, life interceded and I slowly pulled away from the training necessary to finish a race to the standard with which I had become acquainted. It was time, again, for a break.

A month ago, while at a dinner party, a friend of mine shared that he had recently completed a winter half marathon with very little training. While I was, at one time (four years ago now) a fairly competitive road racer in my age group, the past two years have been full of jogging/running only in fits-and-starts. Yes, I did run trails at an easy pace with the girls high school cross-country team that I coach this past August and September, and was running regularly in late October before pulling my left hamstring, my dedication has been inconsistent. Since that hamstring pull (an injury which still aches on occasion), my "training" has consisted of quick walks to the car and going to dinner parties.

Which brings me back to that friend who successfully ran the winter half; while we were talking training shop, he shared his target time for an upcoming half, a time that (in the past) would have been one I would have had little difficulty achieving. I suggested that maybe I could "probably" pace him in his efforts to hit the time. The problem is that now, I have just over ten weeks to run myself in shape and continue on my long, slow road to running a race.

With this goal in my mind a sat down and wrote out a (very) modest training plan designed to put me in a position to finish a half, though whether or not I will be able to me my friend's expected performance time remains to be seen. The challenge is in accepting the reality that I am not the same runner, or person, I was five years ago and that those times and miles may no longer be realistic--frankly, I'm not at the place where I am willing to (or need to) sacrifice what it takes to elicit those performances. This is no sequel to the 1.0 version of me.

I would however, once again, like to finish and maybe (just maybe) extend my training beyond this initial goal of 13.1 miles. This soft reboot begins today and with the clock ticking there is little room for deviating from the plan I have set forth for myself. Thus far the greatest barriers remain my body (the hamstrings still ache) and the weather (I just cannot bring myself to run outside in -24° on-skin temps), but I'll continue to take it one training session at a time.

Reflective Teacher Challenge... ACCEPTED!

Amtrak-ing home, visions
of happy school days dancing
in my head!

Trolling Twitter at 6 a.m. can lead to odd choices. While I have yet to accept the numerous student "challenges" to dump cold water on myself, while on Twitter this morning I did accept (at least for this post) the reflective challenge of "blog[ing] every day for 30 days" in the interest of "[c]onnecting with other teachers through the process–through the blogs and the hashtags and the RTs– to help get your year started off right–connected, and full of reflection."

Not surprisingly, given the whole "begin with the end in mind" mantra, the challenge starts with the task of establishing some possible goals for the new school year. While I have already completed this exercise as part of an introductory friendly letter task I'll be asking students to complete, much like lesson planning, I often myself waking early in the morning with a hankering to revise. The copies are already made, so these starter goals, to be shared with these new charges on the first day of classes, are set in copier ink:

Whenever I reread things that I've set on paper, opportunities for further wordsmithing seem to present themselves. But these are for my students, as much as myself, and my hope is that they will 1) communicate that I want this year to be positive and productive and 2) offer a model which can be used by them to establish a few goals of their own. The wonderful thing about teaching is that each year (and day or class if you're mindful) offers the opportunity to begin again for both students and teachers.

As much for them as for myself, it's worth remembering that each new school year also provides the opportunity to embrace the tabula rasa nature of schools. Students often do this by making the conscious choice to try a new personal style (hairdo, fashion don't, etc.). In addition to adding another pair of khakis and maybe (and if I'm feeling especially adventurous, a new button down shirt) to my official teacher costume, I choose to begin each year by forgetting.

Again, from my introductory letter (not sure why the image came out so distorted!):

Given past interactions, the goal implied above, at least at the onset, is the more important one, and will have a greater impact on where we as a class go from jump street. The daily exercise of forgetting the foibles and missteps of others, and allowing myself to trip, fall and get up, is where much of the real work of moving toward achieving those larger stated goals comes into play.

After a relaxing summer, at this moment, hurtling down the train tracks back to River City, and tomorrow back to my classroom, I feel properly pale, rested and ready to accept that challenge!

Word Wall Reflections

Regents 11 (left) and AP 11 updated word walls await the start of school.

In years past I have maintained a traditional word wall in my classroom. While some teachers use them to capture a full range of terms and ideas to be reinforced, I have attempted to instruct my classes employing the three-tier framework developed by Isabel Beck and Margaret McKeown. In keeping with the concept of tiered vocabulary, my word wall has consisted of those that would exist on the third tier: low frequency terms and concepts specific to a domain. Given the courses I teach, terms on our class word wall consists of concepts and vocabulary specific to the crafts of writing or literary analysis. During years that I have taught more than one course/level, I would keep two, one on the front wall and another on the back.

Word wall from middle school math class from
Demonstration Classroom Sharing blog..

The tier 3 classroom word wall has been fairly effective in offering a permanent reminder of potentially high frequency words available for analysis of fiction and nonfiction. Where it has been less effective is in properly suggesting a sequence or order for consideration of related terms or ideas. In years past I have tried a variety of strategies, such as chunking, in an effort to suggest an organizational framework for "checking down" through the concepts for use in analyzing text.

One intended benefit to tiering is the ability to assist students in seeing the patters and relationships between words, and it is this skill that I have been hoping to better reinforce each year. I have tried a number of different organizers in an effort to model an appropriate through process, with a range of success and failure. Last February I some stumbled across the work of University of Arkansas professor David A. Jollieffe.

Jollieffe's Rhetorical Framework Diagram.

A college composition teacher, in addition to offering recommendations and strategies around developing inquiry-based composition instruction, Jolliefe also developed a framework (see image to right) which incorporates Aristotle's rhetorical triangle and implies a framework for analysis. This is most relevant to my students and I as Jollieffe has previously served as Chief Reader for the Advanced Placement English Language and Composition Examination.

Last spring, my AP 11 classes and I used this diagram as a means of reviewing, in cooperation with their Tier 3 Rhetoric Cards, the terms and ideas that they would use to be successful on the exam in mid-May. It was at this point that I began to see the potential for using Jollieffe's framework as a conceptual basis for a reconfigured, structured word wall for my classes. I also could envision this as an effective way to organize concepts (of which there are fewer) for my Regents level course who are now using more rhetorical language as a way of addressing the Common Core.

My goal this school year is to use the strategies that have proven themselves effective in the past (cards, walls, checks) collaboratively with a Jollieffe framework word wall to fully reinforce for students a concrete process for literary analysis. To track our progress, follow my class blog, the Greece AthenaEUM.