Crossing the line

Today during my 6th grade advisory, I asked my students to share a weird fact about themselves.

"I eat mashed potatoes with ketchup!" said one student.

Okay, I thought. So far, so good.

"I fart in my sleep!" said another.

Too much information...but fine, I thought.

"I dream things, and then they happen!" said another.

Umm...

"Sometimes I hear voices...and then there's no one there", confessed another.

At this particular moment I realized we might have crossed the line from weird facts to potentially needing to contact the school counselor. Yikes. I got a lot more than I bargained for with that seemingly innocuous share.

A series of moments

Today, a series of moments with friends scattered across the country made this day unlike any other.

On the phone, overhearing a lifelong friend tell her daughter to be careful to not hurt the worms when playing outside in the rain...

Meeting a Philly friend for dinner and feeling like I was truly coming home when I saw her smiling face - even in the rain...

Receiving the most thoughtful, supportive, honest email from a high school friend and confidant....

Laughing way too loudly in Whole Foods while chatting to my camp friend, and knowing that no matter how much time passes, we'll still be laughing until our sides hurt when we look like this...

Feeling so inspired by my college friend, and everything she has accomplished as she heads into her 31st year...

Too sappy? You should be glad I chose these moments instead of describing in detail the moment on the Megabus today when a passenger didn't close the bathroom door properly. 

Perfectionism

Today my mom and I went to go paint pottery at one of those "Made by You" places where you pick out a piece, glaze it, and then pick it up a week later.

I chose a vase, painted it yellow (my favorite color) and decided to use a stamp to make designs in orange on top.

Simple, right? Think again. This is what ended up happening instead:

And this:

 Also this:

I was actually getting upset about this. How hard was it, I asked myself, to press a stamp down on a vase and have it actually turn out right? No matter how little or how much paint I applied, how firmly I pressed the stamp into the vase, or how long I left the stamp on there - I just couldn't get it to look how I thought it was going to look.

Finally, I got some wet paper towels, smeared everything together, and went with the streaked look instead.

It certainly won't be perfect, but in that moment I felt better already. I can't wait to see how it turns out.

Hi, my name is Julie Lenard, and I'm an expert on...

Today I attended an OpEd Project Core Seminar in DC.

This is a truly amazing organization whose mission is to expand the public debate. Since only 15 % of op-eds are currently submitted by women, obviously the public discourse is warped. This was an amazing, empowering, informative, life-changing kind of day.

However, the moment that stuck out to me was when we had to re-introduce ourselves (we had already done initial introductions) as experts on a subject.

"Hi, my name is _____, and I'm an expert on ______ because ________."

Suddenly, all of these powerful, intelligent, witty women who had just seconds before introduced themselves with confidence and ease suddenly floundered. They whispered their PhD's under their breaths, dismissed years of experience with a wave of a hand, and uttered disclaimer after disclaimer after disclaimer.

The two men in the room (yes, as long as men support the mission of the project, they are welcome to join) had no such issues.

I don't want to speak in generalizations about women, but I know that personally, this sudden challenge filled me with dread. I've always considered myself a jack of all trades kind of woman. I'm a learner, a dabbler - the kind of woman who has interesting experiences. I would certainly never classify myself as an expert. That would be bragging...right?

Yet I realized that in order to write a convincing opinion editorial, I was going to have to start believing that I did have some expertise. After all, everyone is an expert on something. One doesn't need a PhD from Harvard to prove expertise.

I took a deep breath:

"Hi, my name is Julie Lenard, and I'm an expert on the damaging effects of standardized testing on the education of children because I've been teaching for 8 years in public, charter and private schools, I've taught over 500 students, I've administered over 20 standardized tests, and I have my Masters in Education."

I had stated my expertise with confidence and I had backed it up with evidence.

Guess what? In that moment, everyone trusted me as an expert in my field. Crazy how that works.

What are YOU an expert on?

A moment of human kindness

I've done enough ranting about the Megabus to last a lifetime, but somehow, today, I found myself on it once again.

I'd like to point out at this juncture that I have never once seen this mythical $1 fare...

Anyways, getting right to the point. It was after 6 pm. The passengers were tired and cranky. Our driver was a bit grouchy, to say the least.

Then, a woman with a baby under a year old walked onto the bus. The baby was crying.

I almost could sense the mood of the bus start to shift. We, complete strangers, had to make a decision. Were we going to continue moodily staring at our phones and venting about the lateness of our bus, or were we going to help?

Just like that, it happened. Two men jumped up from their seats and offered to help her carry her baby to her seat (The baby was in a baby carrier....is there another name for those? You know, the ones that look like huge baskets? This is clearly a question for people who have kids...). I gave up my seat that was next to an EMPTY seat - the holy grail of the Megabus - so she could have a seat for herself and a seat for the baby. Another woman helped her figure out how to buckle the seatbelt around the baby carrier.

No one mentioned the crying. It was a truly kind, human moment. We weren't going to nitpick. 

Full moon

Tonight there was a full moon. Did anyone see it?

This isn't a very good picture, but you get the idea.

It was the kind of moon that made you stop and marvel for a moment.

We are closed

Today, I went with some friends to get a slice of pizza. This pizza place is more of a stand, so the customers stand outside and order from the window. We were talking, per usual, and debating whether to get individual slices or a pie. The owner was standing right at the screened window, looking at us.

After about a minute, he said, completely deadpan, "We are closed."

"You don't have a couple of extra slices left?" we asked him. He reiterated that they were closed. Then he said that they were just closing up. Something wasn't adding up there.

At any rate, we didn't get pizza from there that night. In our moment of indecision, apparently the owner decided that we had waited one minute too long to place our order. 

The Boccelism Bunch

So, I joined a Major League Bocce Ball team. Normally, when I think of bocce ball, I think of something like this:

However, apparently bocce ball has become a rather hip sport to play amongst the younger set. I think it may have something to do with the fact that one does not have to be particularly athletic to play, or that, at least in Philly, one can drink openly whilst playing.

The game was a blast, and we won by a point, but the moment that struck me was at the beginning of the game. From the questions that everyone on both teams was asking each other, it became suddenly clear that no one was certain exactly HOW one plays bocce ball. 

I've always been a bit wary of playing sports because I'm not extremely coordinated or athletic. Bocce ball may just be the perfect sport for me. It's low-key, relaxed, competitive in a friendly way, and I'm not the only one who doesn't know exactly what I'm doing. 

Y'all going to the Phillies game?

I went to a Phillies game, and it was both fun and freezing cold. However, my moment of the day came before the game, whilst on SEPTA. Once the Broad Street Line gets far enough South, it becomes fairly obvious that everyone is probably going to the game. It may be the bright red attire, it may be the attitude that can only come from the Phillies fans.

A young boy who looked to be about 10 or 11 sat on the train, looking longingly at all the people going to the game.

"Y'all going to the Phillies game?" he asked everyone within range. He would then proceed to question them about their seat, and give his opinion on whether or not that was the best spot. He kept putting his hand on his heart as he said how much he loved the Phillies, and how much he wished he was going to the game.

At his stop, a few stops before the stadiums, he reluctantly got off the train to go home.

I was so close to running after him, offering him my ticket, and going home myself!

FREE

Have you ever had those kind of moments when you know you're being really pushy and annoying...but you continue anyways? Well, today I had one of those moments. I was at Home Depot, buying some paint for a bit of a Spring makeover I'm doing in my apartment. As I waited for my paint to get mixed, I saw a paint roller/brush kit:

It was nothing special, and I wasn't even looking for an entire kit. What caught my attention was a sign in front of it saying,

"IF WE DON'T OFFER IT, IT'S FREE."

I've always been a sucker for free stuff. One of my friends makes fun of me because I can never refuse a free t-shirt, no matter how silly the t-shirt actually is. Free food is the death of me. Whenever I see one of those "free" boxes on the sidewalk, I always stop.

I muttered to my friend that I was definitely going to try and get it for free. She laughed.

Sure enough, when the sales lady handed me my paint, she didn't offer me the paint roller/brush kit. I seized my chance, and asked, "Since you didn't offer me the paint roller/brush kit, I get it for free, right?" She sighed, grabbed one of the boxes, and wrote on the back:

I wondered if she had done this a couple times today.

Then, when checking out, I did the same thing. "Excuse me," I said to the cashier. "I just wanted to make sure that this was free, since there was a sign saying it would be free if they didn't offer it to me, and they didn't." I'm pretty sure my friend was acting like she wasn't with me at this point. He sighed, and rang it up for free.

Well, I definitely was annoying and pushy in that moment, but the end result turned out pretty great.

Incidentally, I did end up using every piece in my free paint roller/brush set.

A new Philly neighbor

There's something about springtime that puts everyone in a better mood. People shake off their winter doldrums, get outside, and get moving. The grunt that passed as an acceptable social interaction during the winter turns into a wide smile and a, "How gorgeous is this day!?"

Walking with a friend today, we passed by a beautiful house near the river with tons of potted plants all around. I stopped to take a picture of this tree:

I got a kind of funny look from the woman outside working in her garden, so I started gushing about the beauty of her tree. In 30 seconds flat, we were carrying on an animated conversation about her plants, how amazing the day was, how long we had lived in Philly, restaurants we preferred, and so on and so on.

I wonder if I would have been able to strike up such a positive connection in the dead of winter. Even though I pride myself on being able to turn any stranger into a friend, a skill I learned from my grandmother, I seriously doubt it.

The honesty of children

Today, one of my students gave me a present of flowers picked from her mother's yard. I put them in my Camp Arcadia cup, they smelled delicious, and they completely made my day.

However, what really struck me in the moment this student offered me the flowers was what she said.

"Tr. Julie, I brought in some flowers from home. They were meant for my homeroom teacher, but, since she's not here today, I'd like to give them to you."

I wasn't offended that I wasn't her first choice. I know that a third grade homeroom teacher trumps a teacher that the kids see for just an hour a day, no question. I was just struck by her honesty. She didn't say this with any kind of malice or intention of getting my goat. There was nothing fake about this gesture, and it really made me think about how many times I've been a bit dishonest just to smooth over a social situation for fear of offending someone.

This student had no such fears. She was so confident in our relationship and in her sense of self that she was perfectly comfortable letting me know that the flowers weren't originally meant for me, but that I would do just fine as second best.

Knowing how amazing her homeroom teacher is, I was honored to be chosen second!

A meditative student

You're going to think I planned this. All I'm going to say is that it was an amazing coincidence that just a day after I tried meditating for the first time, I came across one of my 3rd graders in the hallway looking like this:

Now normally, this child is ALL over the place. I mean, she NEVER stops moving or talking. I asked her what was going on.

"TR. JULIE!!" she shouted. "I'M MEDITATING!!"

I told her that in order to meditate, she probably shouldn't be telling me she was meditating.

"MY TEACHER TOLD ME TO COME OUT HERE AND MEDITATE!" she shouted back with glee. "I'M BLOCKING OUT ALL MY THOUGHTS! SEE???"

I told her she was doing a fabulous job and walked back to my office, almost doubling over with laughter.

Girl Meditating, Interrupted

I've noticed that my mornings have been getting more and more hassled. I usually wake up, hit the snooze button, read work emails in bed that stress me out, and doze until I'm officially running late and have to practically run the 5 blocks it takes me to get to work on time.

This morning, I resolved to turn over a new leaf. I decided to set my timer for 5 minutes, sit in my comfy, oversized chair, close my eyes, and put forth my very best effort towards clearing my mind, so to speak.

I haven't had much luck with meditation in the past. During the end of yoga classes where we were asked to push away all thoughts, I would always be thinking of the nachos and beers my friend and I would consume shortly thereafter.

Still, today I was hopeful. In my mind, I was about to become something like this:

I took a deep breath, set the timer, and closed my eyes. It's going to be a long 5 minutes, I thought.

Almost immediately, my phone rang. My friend needed a suitcase to borrow for her plane that was leaving in a couple of hours (she just moved, so she didn't realize her suitcase wasn't at the back of her closet).

I have to admit that part of me was relieved to be off the hook for this morning's meditation session. However, I did feel the full irony of my situation. At the very moment that I was supposed to be feeling the most zen and grounded, instead, I was pawing through my cluttered closet for my suitcase.  

Twirling

Tonight I went to a lindy and blues dance class. I love to dance. The only problem is that I usually look like this while doing it:

The amazing part about having a partner is that I can just follow someone else's lead. Now, I pride myself on being a strong, independent woman. Yet here's my confession. On the dance floor, I just really want to be twirled around by a strong partner.

Even though the majority of my partners were old men (I'm kind of a magnet for men over 70 it seems) in that moment, I didn't care. I was just twirling around the dance floor.

Are you okay?

With tragic events such as the explosions during the Boston Marathon becoming more and more frequent, I find myself always falling back on my same routine.

I call, I text, I email, and I Facebook message all my friends and acquaintances I know who may be at risk. Then I breathe a huge sigh of relief when I know that they are safe. I'm not affected, I tell myself. I'm okay.

Yet it's really my way of denying what's actually happening. Even if I'm not directly affected, someone is always decidedly NOT okay.

Today I spent most of my moments thinking about exactly just how not okay things really have been today. 

Irene??!!

I've seen this same woman at various gym classes for about five years now. I don't believe I've ever properly caught her name, so I simply refer to her as "Hey, you!" She, on the other hand, believes my name to be Irene. I haven't had the heart to correct her. 

On South Street today, I heard, "YO, IRENE!!" I didn't stop walking at first - after all, it's not my actual name. When I heard it for the second and third time, I looked around, and sure enough, it was my gym buddy. We chatted for a bit, and she told me that when it was nice out, she left the gym to get her cardio on the street. That way, she explained, she could curse at people while she was at it and get her agression out of the way.

It was by far the most bizarre moment of my day. Sorry, I meant Irene's day.

Dusk

On my way out for the evening, I stopped with two friends to sit on a park bench and watch the day fade into dusk.

In that moment, we watched as the sun set and a squirrel dragged a huge stick up a tree. We talked, laughed and drank in the gorgeousness of spring.

Changing in the moment

I played a game of Bananagrams today.

Even though I'm well-versed in the intricacies of the English language, I frequently lose in games of Scrabble and Words with Friends.

However, I can hold my own in Bananagrams. I realized while playing today that the secret for me is being able to change the words around at a moment's notice. Having that flexibility and being able to change my entire board completely appeals to me.

I've always thought I was scared of change, but in game, in this moment, I didn't hesitate to scrap it all and start over when it wasn't working. 

Out of the blue

This morning, I stepped out my door, and almost ran into this lovely hanging flowery plant.

Out of nowhere, apparently, it's become spring, and my neighbors have decided to replace their trash cans with foliage.

It just goes to show you that the most beautiful things in life are sometimes completely unexpected.

This crazy weather we're having

Today it was almost 90 degrees in Philadelphia. By the stares I was getting as I walked to work in a dress without tights or stockings (gasp), I'm fairly certain that it is way too early to bare my ghostly white legs to the general public.

I'm not prepared. I haven't put my window AC units in yet, I haven't switched over my closet from coats to dresses, and I haven't stopped cooking winter foods like chili and soup. In short, even though I'm more than ready for winter to be over, I'm not ready for summer to start.

Yet today there was a moment when the rain came pouring down, the thunder and lightening were in full force, and there was a cool breeze in the air.

Maybe, just maybe, we'll get another shot at spring. 

I feel the streets!

I've often used my English teacher status to be a bit unconventional with my students. I always have pictured them thinking about me years later as a bit weird and odd, yet passionate. 

Today for instance, I took my 3rd graders on a walking/writing field trip around the block. They had to observe their surroundings using the 5 senses. At one point, I had them actually find a spot to sit in the small street/alleyway behind the school, and write non-stop for two minutes in their journals. They looked at me like I was crazy, but they did it. Passersby did a double-take when they saw children sitting in the street.

Afterwords, sharing their observations, I asked the kids what they saw, heard, smelled, tasted (that didn't yield much), and felt. 

One kid said, "I felt the streets!"

"Wow!" I said. "You were really into the meaning of this assignment! You connected with the world in a way you didn't before! You are turning into such a writer!"

"No," he said. "I mean, I really felt the streets! I was sitting on the ground!"

Perhaps it was not quite the life-changing moment I had envisioned. 

Isn't this song like from the 50's?

Today during tutoring my tutee requested some music while he worked. He wanted this:

Yes, I meant to include the goat version.

I said no (who could possibly work to that?) and turned on my trusty Songza music station entitled, "Songs to Raise your Kids To", a station that I'm assured does not contain any cursing.

Songza chose "Dancing in the Moonlight":

While I snapped my fingers and gave him the thumbs up, he groaned, "Tr. Julie, isn't this song like from the 50's"?

As I chair danced to the song, it hit me in that moment that I'm going to be the type of mom who REALLY embarrasses her kids. 

Sunshine + bagels + music + friends

Let me paint you a word picture, lovely readers. Here was my moment of pure joy in my day:

I'm sitting outside of a shop that sells Montreal-style bagels, biting into an everything bagel with cream cheese. The sun is shining so brightly that I need my sunglasses. It's warm enough that I am cosy in a light fleece. A two-man band strums their banjo and guitar. The day has that first day it's warm enough to really linger outside feeling, and the streets are packed with people taking full advantage.

In that moment, sitting across from a dear friend, I felt that everything was right with the world.

The important things in life

It was the spinning instructor's birthday today, so she brought little Dove dark chocolate pieces to hand out after our workout. I must say that I love a spin instructor who knows how to eat some chocolate.

One of the other women said proudly, "I worked out too hard to eat a piece of chocolate." Other women were saying things like, "You go, girl!"

I just kept hoping that there will never come a time when I tell myself I can't have a piece of chocolate.

Dark chocolate at that!

Jeopardy Disaster

I thought it would be fun to play a game of Jeopardy (English Language Arts Style) for a Friday treat.

Famous last words. Being 3rd graders, the students started arguing about things being unfair, not being able to agree on which category to choose, who was going to say the answer, etc, etc. Some students started crying because their teams had low scores.

There came a moment in which I realized that we had to shut the game down, and talk about some ground rules for playing games.

The third graders said I was being unfair.

Thank goodness it's Friday!

Searching for something that doesn't exist

Don't you worry. This is not going to be a terribly deep or emotional post. I think I may have gotten all of that out of my system from yesterday's rant. No, this post will just involve a confession of my ridiculousness from today.

You see, on Thursday nights I help run a family group at my school. Every week a new family wins our "lottery"; a cool gift basket, and a gift card towards making dinner for the following week. This week, the winning family brought a big pot of chili, which was delicious.

After the meal, I was helping clean up, and I realized I couldn't find the top to the chili pot. I want you to keep in mind that this was one huge pot of chili. The top must have been enormous. I couldn't fathom what had happened to it. I checked all the usual places in my school cafeteria, and then resorted to looking in the office (perhaps I had brought the top of the chili pot in there while making copies?), three refrigerators, and two very large garbage cans.

I was panicking. Here this family had made this amazing meal, and I was about to tell them that I just couldn't find the top to their chili pot. Finally, I resorted to beckoning another co-worker out of her parent group. She came out prepared for some unforeseen disaster. I explained my problem.

"Oh, there was no top to the chili. It was covered in aluminum foil," she replied.

Oh. In that moment I realized I had made the whole thing up. There never was a top to that chili pot. I had been searching for half an hour for something that never existed.

Maybe I need to get more sleep.

The absurdity of standardized test administration

As a public school teacher, every year around this time I'm doomed to administer the dreaded standardized tests. For six whole days, we teachers make children sit silently, filling out bubbles.

This time of year always infuriates me. It makes me feel like this kind of teacher:

These test scores not only place students into four categories: advanced, proficient, basic, and below basic, but they also place our school into one of two categories: adequate yearly progress or failing to achieve adequate yearly progress.

I've been a public school teacher for six years and the pressure to "succeed" on these tests seems to be getting worse and worse.

It seems that teachers and principals around the country are feeling the pressure as well. In the wake of cheating incidents such as the teachers in Atlanta and the principals in Philly, the rules for standardized test administration have become more and more complex.

This year, I had to take an hour-long online training course in order to be certified to administer the standardized test. Yes, you read that correctly. I had to take a test in order to administer a test. The course managed to be mind-numbing and confusing at the same time.

Today when we met as a staff to discuss the ins and outs of testing for next week, we debated the rules. Of course we want our students to do well on these tests, and quite frequently, they skip questions by accident.

How do we make sure that our students answer all the questions? We certainly can't let them know if they missed a question. No, that would be cheating. We certainly can't ask them to show us their finished work. No, that would also be cheating. We certainly can't ask a child to go back and look at his or her book when they say they are finished. No, that would be cheating as well.

For me, the moment of today that made this day unlike any other was the moment when we just had to laugh and shake our heads at the sheer absurdity of it all. We know as educators that our job is to inspire and motivate children to reach their true potential, not to be reduced to test administrators debating these kind of details.

I'm not pretending to have the answer to solve the education problems in America, but I do know a thing or two. I know these tests lead to schools cheating to achieve high scores. I know I find it condescending to be trained in "active test monitoring." I know these tests don't show the creativity, imagination, and critical thinking skills of our students. I know these tests send students into a blind panic. Bottom line, I know these tests aren't educating our children.

Yet for the next week, my sole job is to be the best test administrator I can be.

Walk like an Egyptian

Someone told me when I turned 30 that your thirties is a time when you no longer care what people think of you.

Tonight, I cooked dinner with a friend at home. We were listening to 80's hits (naturally), and "Walk like an Egyptian" came on. All of a sudden, we were both doing our best full-on impression of the dance. In front of my open windows. In that moment, I didn't care at all what my neighbors might think.

I just danced.

I've always depended on the kindness of strangers

As the infamous Blanche once said, "I've always depended on the kindness of strangers." While Blanche may have uttered this ironically, sometimes I really do. Strangers mailed me my wallet when I've lost it. Strangers offered to drive me to the emergency room when I broke my wrist. Strangers let me lie down in a restaurant in Nepal when I suddenly came down with a fever, and even brought me a blanket and a pillow.

Today, strangers let me into the DMV to renew my license when I arrived at 4:14 at a place that closes at 4:15. Usually when I think of the DMV, I picture something like this:

It's one of my least favorite places to go. However, when I realized while driving all week in Louisiana that my license had expired two months ago (whoops), I remembered that I needed to go in to get a new photo. Since the DMV's hours are almost exactly the same hours that I work, I knew I needed to get there fast. 

When I arrived, breathless and beet red, instead of turning me away, the woman told me I had just made it. It would have been so easy for her to dismiss me! In that moment, my whole perspective of the DMV shifted just a bit. 

It may have not been the best idea to take my new driver's license photo after running 8 blocks...