Magic Moment

That moment at dusk when the lake is completely still and the sun is about to go behind the clouds is truly magical. At that precise moment today, I started to teach my 12-year old second cousin how to canoe. My instinct was to move the canoe slowly, silently and cautiously on the lake in order to disturb nature as little as possible.

It didn't go quite exactly as planned. My cousin was loud and boisterous, and between all of the hysterical laughing fits that ensued, we absolutely disturbed the equilibrium of the lake.

Somehow, I preferred it that way.

And...for all you loyal readers out there, here's the rainbow picture from yesterday as promised. Hotspot internet is a wonderful/horrible thing.

Where's my rainbow?

I'm not even sure if this blog will post, considering my Internet is hanging by a thread as I type from Maine. Ah yes, I'm in Maine for the week - glorious, stunning, grand state of Maine. Driving up here today, my parents and I kept literally driving into pouring rain, alternating with sunlight. We kept asking, "Where's our rainbow?" over and over as we searched the sky. My thought in that moment was almost that nature owed us a rainbow. After all, the rain certainly made the already very long drive even longer. However, then I looked at the sky again, and realized it was stunning in its own right. The dark and stormy clouds against the brilliant sunlight was enough.

Once I stopped looking for rainbows to almost make up for the more difficult parts of the day, a truly stunning rainbow appeared (picture to come with better Internet soon). It's always truly about the journey. I have a feeling I'll keep learning that lesson over and over and over again. 

It was there all along

Today my friend and I had a fantastic afternoon together and we found the most amazing store called Zakka Shop. It was beautiful, the owner was lovely, and we thoroughly enjoyed our time there. The moment that struck me the most, however, was when I asked the owner casually how long they had been opened.

"Oh, since 2006," she replied.

This was shocking news to me. Why? This store is less than four blocks away from my house and I had never seen it before.

Why not?

Probably because I've been...

Or perhaps...

I resolved immediately to do less texting and calling, and more opening my eyes to what is immediately around me. We'll see how it goes.

Where everybody knows your name...

From the time I reached the drinking age, I have dreamt of having a bar like Cheers where I could be a "regular". 

Sadly for me, due to the fact that my eating habits far surpass my drinking habits, I now have the dubious honor of being a regular at the neighborhood sushi joint. 

Apparently, I eat a lot of sushi. I consume way more wasabi than beer. So tonight, when I found myself hugging Mai goodbye, I realized that I have now found my own personal version of Cheers. The only problem is that the cupcake place that just opened up on the corner might reach that same status soon...

The art of sitting still

I am so bad at not doing anything. I always have a million things planned and scheduled. Yet today, I took somewhat of a break and lounged about. It felt great. Then I had that moment when I realized that the my friend's borrowed cat was being more active than me...and I felt a bit judged.

Just jump in

I went to the beach yesterday. Yes, I know I shouldn't rub in the fact that I am currently on vacation. Well, maybe I will a bit:

Yes, it was indeed a nice day.

So, I was at the beach, and the water was unnaturally murky. My friend got stung by a jellyfish and there were horseshoe crabs all around. The likelihood of getting stung was pretty high. I had no idea what was out there. Yet I've been trying to take more risks lately. Suddenly I was in somewhat of a moral dilemma.

I took a deep breath, and decided to take the plunge. I felt so empowered, so free....and then I got stung by a jellyfish.

One phone call can change everything

It used to be, when you were waiting for a phone call, you would stay home and wait around near a phone like this...

Even when phones started to look like this....

...you would still need to be at home to receive a call. You would check your answering machine in hopes that you would receive that one message, that one phone call that could change everything...

Alas, then (well, skipping a few steps), we stumbled onto these...

....almighty phones you can take anywhere. That means you can literally be staring at your phone several hours per day, willing that one person to call with that one phone call that could be life-changing.

For the past two weeks, I've been waiting for such a phone call. Like a watched pot never boils, I have discovered that a watched phone never rings.

Today, once I declared that I would put my phone in the next room and just enjoy myself at a social gathering. Within ten minutes of doing so, the phone finally rang with news that will change my life for the better. That one moment made the several thousand moments of phone watching and anxiety all worth it.

Just visiting

My grandma moved away from her entire family in Missouri to live in Arkansas, then Arizona, and then Louisiana. As a result, my mom said she spent a great deal of time in the car when she was younger, going from house to house to visit. We went for a family reunion this weekend, but back then, they didn't wait for a reunion. They just made sure to visit frequently. It made me think for a moment about how sometimes we just wait for huge occasions to see people, rather than making time to just sit and visit more often.

Thinking of generations past

Today I voyaged to Kansas City, Missouri for a family reunion with my mother's side of the family. My grandma is the youngest of ten children - eight of whom grew up and had families - so it's a huge family. When I was younger, every summer my brother and I would drive with my grandma and grandpa to see all of the family in Missouri.

I adored visiting with my great aunts and uncles. It seemed like they were always having the best of times. Even though I was a pretty shy little girl, I always felt like I was included on the teasing and good natured fun.

This reunion was fairly different because now my grandma is the only one left of all of her brothers and sisters, and she couldn't make it. As a result, there weren't as many inappropriate jokes and tall tales told. I couldn't hear the same story over and over, with slightly different versions applied each time. I couldn't listen to the good natured bickering.

However, at one point one of my family members told me that I reminded him of my grandmother. Usually I'm told that I remind my family members of my mother, which I always of course take as a huge compliment (Hi, Mom!). Yet in that moment, I was so happy he said that. If I'm even a bit as mischievous or outgoing as my grandmother, then there may be other traits from those eight amazing siblings we will be able to pass on.

Mr. Soul Cool Train

Tonight LB and I experienced the coolest cab driver ever - even better than my superhero cab driver from the night before.

In his southern drawl, he announced that his name was Harry Williams and immediately began chatting about this and that. As he rambled on from one story to another, I found myself drifting in and out of sleep.

I awoke to him belting out Etta James' "At Last" - and he was really good! While I had been asleep, he had been recounting his tales of getting his certification from the American Broadcasting Company, showing LB letters of recommendation, and showing off his letter from when he received his GED from Temple. One of the highlights of this letter was a sentence that read, "Although GED candidates are usually disagreeable, your pleasant nature was unexpected." I wondered in that moment why Mr. Williams carries those "credentials", carefully protected in plastic covers, in his cab, and whether or not he shows them to all of his passengers.

At any rate, he seems to find such joy in his job and in making people laugh. He actually had a song list of his top favorites to sing, entitled "Mr. Soul Cool Train." He sang some Van Morrison, Louis Armstrong and Stevi Wonder, and then wished us the best and sent us off into the night.

My new goal is to find Mr. Soul Cool Train again on the streets of Philadelphia. 

My hero, the cab driver

My friend and I went to Pet Smart to purchase supplies for her cat to stay at my house while she is in Guatemala this summer. As we stood on Oregon Avenue, arms laden with kitty litter and food, it occurred to us that it might be very difficult to get a cab. After about 40 minutes of waiting for the one we called to come, and missing all the rest, a cab pulled over and a man got out. 

"Are you on duty?" we asked.

"No, " he said, "I'm taking a break."

"Is there any way you could take us home?" we asked.

With just the smallest of sighs, he got back into the car, turned back on his cab light, and we were off. In that moment, he morphed from a mere cab driver...

...into a superhero.

One last dismissal duty date in the stairwell

Dismissal is a pretty crazy time at my school. When you think about it, having over 700 kids going in different directions all at the same time, that makes sense. Therefore, each teacher is assigned a dismissal duty. Mine this year has been standing in a stairwell, making sure kids don't run down the stairs. It might seem trite, but try having dismissal without teachers standing guard in the stairwell and see what happens!

Several months ago, one of the 6th graders, whom I don't teach, got into the habit of standing with me in the stairwell during dismissal. She leaves a bit later than the other students. Since she has been a pretty big behavior problem in her classes, her teachers have been all too happy to send her to hang with me until her departure. In that true magic of me simply not being her teacher/authority figure, we have gotten along really well. It got to the point to where if I was late to my dismissal duty, she would come find me and demand that I come talk to her.

Today was the last day of school, as well as my last day of teaching period, since I am leaving the profession. I have many, many conflicting emotions going on today, but I wanted to just boil it down to this one moment.

For our last dismissal duty date in the stairwell, this particular student requested Rita's Swedish Fish flavored water ice. Oh yes, water ice is a BIG deal in Philly. I told her that I would be sure to be there right on time, water ice in hand, at our spot in the stairwell.

My last class went a bit overtime with goodbyes and all, and all of a sudden, I found myself with seven minutes to get to Rita's water ice, get the treats, and head back. As I was running to Rita's, it hit me that this is what it truly means to be a teacher. Teachers will do anything for their students - anything to win their trust, to be reliable, and to set good examples. Students never really do know what goes on in the "backstage" of a classroom. They never will truly understand the late nights of grading, the hours of lesson planning or how much teachers really agonize over who to put in a group to work together. Nor should they. Students should just assume that these adults will always be there who care about them. That's the true magic of being a teacher, and I truly admire those teachers who teacher for their entire careers.

I arrived back to school, sweating profusely with one minute to spare. The student nonchalantly strutted down the stairwell, said, "Oh hi, Tr. Julie," and casually thanked me for the water ice. In her mind, there was absolutely no doubt that I would be there.

That moment was exactly how my last day of teaching was meant to end.

Burnt out copiers

During my first year as a teacher in Philadelphia, we received one ream of paper for the entire year. Sound like a lot? Not so much...

Now I know that it sounds terrible in this technological day and age, but I'm going to let you in on a secret: teachers use a lot of paper. Not having access to that paper is pretty rough. I don't even want to go into how much I spent on paper and at Kinko's (of course the copier never worked at school) that year. The numbers ain't pretty.

When I switched to my current school, I was awed by the fact that we had basically unlimited use to copier paper - and copiers - at school. The trade-off of course is that the copiers usually misfeed from overuse. I can't tell you how many times I've had to go through a ten step process just to find where the paper has jammed.

Tomorrow is the last day of school for the kiddos, and everyone is, shall we say, a bit cranky. The energy and excitement of the students is at its peak, and in contrast, the energy and excitement of the teachers is at an all time low. It's not a good combination.

Walking through the halls today, the copier technician (whom I have seen on countless occasions at school this year) was once again taking apart the entire copier. Take a look:

...and....

In that moment, the copier was clearly stating loudly and clearly, "I'M DONE. FINITO. NO MAS. DON'T EVEN TRY TO GET ANY MORE WORK OUTTA ME."

Every teacher's current sentiment exactly.

You have been my friend

I read Charlotte's Web to third graders for about two hours today, trying to finish up the book in each class before the year ends on Wednesday. My voice is pretty hoarse. However, this one moment made it all worth it.

I got to the part in the story where Wilbur is thanking Charlotte for saving his life.

"'Why did you do all this for me?' he asked. 'I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you.' 'You have been my friend,' replied Charlotte. 'That in itself is a tremendous thing." - E.B. White, Charlotte's Web.

When I read the line, "You have been my friend," one boy grabbed the hand of another boy beside him, and the two boys grinned at each other. I loved seeing such an innocent, genuine expression of friendship. Later on, they might become cynical, or might not feel quite so comfortable grabbing each other's hands in public. Yet in that moment, they wanted to make it clear to each other that their friendship was as strong as the friendship of Charlotte and Wilbur.

My succinct, supportive father

Today I thought about my dad a great deal, it being Father's Day and all. He also sent me one of his infamous one liner text messages:

Thanks. Love you.

My dad is extremely succinct (to say the least) when it comes to written communication. He's the guy who writes one line emails without a signature at the end, such as:

(No Subject)

When are you coming home?

It's a bit abrupt. I always laugh at how my father and mother are complete opposites when it comes to written communication. My mother writes much longer emails, and always signs them LOVE, Mom. I appreciate the balance.

However, albeit concise, he is an incredibly supportive, devoted Dad. This week has been a roller coaster for me, and he sent me this text message:

Good luck. Whatever happens you should feel proud. Love you.

Now we are in the age of text messages and emails, and phone conversations are becoming more and more rare. Yet in that moment, I thought about the fact that my dad always finds a way, no matter how brief, to show me that he's rooting for me. 

Happy Father's Day!

Don't talk to strangers

In Payless today, I was buying some new sandals and thinking of how my friend and I used to make an annual trip to Payless to mark the beginning of summer. An adorable little girl and her mother were in the aisle, and the little girl was begging her mom to buy her some green shoes to go with her graduation outfit.

I asked her what grade she was graduating from. She immediately gasped, shook her head, put her hands over her mouth, and hid behind her mother.

Her mother explained, "She doesn't talk to strangers."
"Oh," I said. "That's very smart of her. I guess because I'm a teacher, I don't ever think of myself as a stranger to kids."
"Well, you're not teaching right now!" she said.

Yikes. I guess she put me in my place. However, some of the best conversations I've had have been with strangers. I started wondering in that moment if my parents had actually given me that mandate. I'm guessing that they did not.

Ripped Vine

This evening, I visited a friend who has a lovely backyard space with all kind of greenery going on. Seriously, these greens are getting out of control. One vine even managed to snake its way around a chair, and to become completely intertwined.

This must have happened just in the last couple of days since the chair was moved or used, but I couldn't help seeing it as a relationship of sorts. The vine clearly had become dependent on the chair. It was all a big symbol. My mind was racing...

Just then, my friend laughed, said it was time to move the chair, and with one quick pull, yanked the vine off of the chair. Just like that.

The dangers of having a Spelling Bee just for fun...

I thought I had all my bases covered today. I had been building up the Spelling Bee for a week, saying how fun it was going to be, that it was going to be completely optional, and that we would all support each other no matter what. I had my students doing silent cheers every time someone spelled a word (regardless of whether or not it was spelled correctly). 

Yet...at least three kids in each class ended up crying anyways. In that moment, I realized that no matter how much you stress the fact that it doesn't matter whether you win or lose, sometimes it really DOES matter to someone when they lose.

The Green Light

Tonight I finally saw The Great Gasby movie. My friend and I were quite possibly the last two people in America to see it, but we made it just before it went out of the theaters.

I first read The Great Gatsby during my sophomore year of high school, and, in fact, still have my old copy. Note how I used to underline EVERYTHING.

I personally loved this movie, although I know that some critics would disagree. Part of it was that magical Baz Luhrmann quality of zooming in and out and generally making every screen shot unique. Yet my favorite part of the movie was how they used so much of the book. Most of it was narrated directly from the novel.

Hearing those words that I hadn't read since high school was an odd feeling. I realized that 16 years had passed (gulp) since I had read those words, which feels like a lifetime.

These words in particular hit me when hearing them during the movie, and then re-reading them once I got home: "His dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it," (Fitzgerald 189).  Gatsby never did attain his dream of being with Daisy, and the book ends on a fairly pessimistic note. Yet in that moment, the fact that Gatsby still remains so hopeful struck a chord that I really needed today.

Maybe that green light just out of sight in the distance is really closer than we really do think.

Doing a "Maggie" and coming full-circle

Well, our bocce ball season has come to an end. A premature end, some might say, due to the fact that we didn't win the whole kitten kaboodle. This week we had the first round of finals. Now, even though everyone made it to the finals by default, we still felt pretty good about ourselves. Our first game went really well; we won by a landslide.

Our second game - not so much. We ended our season with the same team we first played. They were, in fact, one of the only two teams we really enjoyed playing. They didn't take themselves too seriously, were good sports, and yes, drank copious amounts of beer. If we've learned anything, we've taken in the fact that the amount of beer one consumes seems to directly relate to how well one performs at the sport.

The first time we played this team, we won only because a woman named Maggie on their team in the very last play managed to knock all of their balls out of the way by mistake. From that moment on, we deemed any plays that were detrimental to the team a "Maggie".

Today, without thinking as one of our players inadvertently knocked everyone else's balls out of the way, one of us said, "Hey, way to do a 'Maggie'." Instead of being really offended at that moment, Maggie burst out laughing and said that her team had been giving her a hard time throughout the season  all because of that first game. We then proceeded to joke about it for the rest of that game.

Even though Maggie's team ended up winning and they will be the ones competing in the elite finals next week, we still felt in that moment that we had mastered the art of bocce. When it really comes down to it, you aim the ball, take a few sips of beer, and joke around and have a good time.

Singing in the Rain

Today was a blustery, windy and RAINY day. It came in bursts, but once a downpour started, you were bound to get drenched.

So, in that moment in which my umbrella wasn't proving to be much use to me anyways, I tried my best to reprise Gene Kelly's 'Singing in the Rain'.

Mine wasn't nearly as graceful, but I sure had fun getting soaked.

Investigative Reporting

Today, walking along the streets of Philadelphia, I found this:

In that moment, I had so many questions. What on earth happened? Did someone reject those roses? Was there a fight? Did these roses get smashed on the ground like they so often do on shows like The Bachelor (not that I would personally know anything about that). No, I definitely wouldn't know anything about that.

All of a sudden, some simple petals and stems turned into quite the crime scene. I'm on the case!

YES

Today, for a change, I had absolutely nothing planned. It was a really weird feeling for me. Most of my weekends for the next month are scheduled. Life has been timed, minute by minute.

So, when asked if I would run through a city fountain, in that moment, my answer was "YES."

Red like a heart attack

Yesterday I had an important presentation, and I was extremely nervous. I arrived and quickly realized with a sinking feeling that there was no air conditioning in the room. Since yesterday was humid and rainy, I knew I was in for it.

I am one of those people who sweats at the drop of a hat. I also get violently red at all times. Whenever I go running, after five minutes people act like I'm about to have a heart attack. The combination is, shall we say, not attractive.

A minute into the presentation I realized that there was no going back. I was starting to sweat, and I could feel the redness emanating from my face. I tried to joke about it, and got a few weak laughs.

Near the end of the presentation, someone said, "Maybe we should shut the window, and turn on the AC?" It took all my self-control in that moment to not scream, "AC was an option???!!!"

So for the last ten minutes, I looked somewhat presentable.

Cupcake Addiction: The Sequel

I feel like I've been refusing cupcakes left and right lately. It's felt so empowering. Alas, today...

Student (bursting into my office with excitement): "Tr. Julie, try this piece of cake for my birthday!"
Me: "Oh, Happy Birthday! No thank you, but I hope you have a great day!"
Student (his face literally falling): "Why not? Are you on a diet? My mom made these!"
Me: "Ok, I'll try one!"

What can I say? I was guilted into it.

It tasted pretty darn good.

Pizza in a frying pan

Today my book club met to discuss Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by the infamous Barbara Kingsolver. We deliberately scheduled this meeting for the warmer month of June so that we could eat locally and seasonally fairly easily, and more importantly so we could have a picnic.

I made a fairly simple pizza and then was stymied by the puzzle of how to transport it to the picnic. Without thinking, I transferred the pizza from the baking sheet to a frying pan.

Walking the eight blocks to the picnic, I got several double-takes as I walked down the street, proudly holding an uncovered pizza in a frying pan. 

Nowhere to hide

Today I did a bit of hibernating. I have an important presentation coming up and I've been trying to keep a low profile so that I can concentrate on preparing. In fact, I turned down the opportunity to work with friends so I could focus. It's not often I turn down a social situation like that. This is serious business.

Then, in my eighth hour of occupying a coffee shop, brow furrowing seriously as I frowned over my work, my friends burst in and suddenly there was nowhere to hide. I shouldn't have been surprised, as that particular coffee shop is where we usually meet to work.

My initial shock wore off and in that moment I realized I was happy to have the company and support. So often when I have big events on the horizon I try to keep the news to myself for fear of jinxing my luck. Yet lately I've come to understand that true friends are always there for you - even when you try to hide from the world.

Colored pencil points

Yesterday (if there really are people out there reading this, yes, I know I've been behind on several occasions lately), I spotted one of my 3rd graders take out a Ziploc bag full of something multi-colored and covertly but not so subtly try to show it to her friend. Immediately my teacher hackles went right up. What was she hiding? I wondered. My mind raced to the illegal possibilities.

Yet when I brusquely said, "I'll take that!" and snatched it out of that poor girl's hand, it was, well, this:

Colored pencil points?! I went on with my lesson, but was quite perplexed as to what this girl was doing with all of these colored pencil points.

After class, I called her into my office to demand an explanation.

"It's my collection," she explained, "I want to see if I can fill the entire bag up. Lots of the girls in our class are doing it."

In that moment, I remembered the eraser shaving fad in my elementary school. We would try and get our hands on as many different colored erasers as possible, erase them on our desk and scoop the shavings carefully into a plastic bag.

Was there a point? No. Was it completely gross? Yes. Yet that's what we did. From eraser shavings to colored pencil points, it was nice to know in that moment that quite often we are fascinated by something that's quite beyond an explanation.

Barbara Kingsolver is judging me

I just finished re-reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver in preparation for this week's book club. The premise of this novel is Kingsolver and her family moving back to her family farm in the Appalachian Mountains and eating seasonally/locally for a year.

The first and second time I finished this book, I set off with a sense of purpose, determined to only buy local and seasonal goods. The first time, it was the dead of winter and I didn't get that far before succumbing to purchasing spinach for a salad. This time, I reasoned, would be different.

This time of year at the farmer's market there are plentiful greens available, and not much else. I decided to make an arugula pizza. I felt so smug as I purchased a pizza crust made by a baker, mozzarella cheese that was made last night, and arugula. I wondered what else I should put on the pizza, and as I walked towards Whole Foods, I googled it on my handy dandy smart phone.

It turned out that the pizza called for four different kinds of cheese, and a sprinkle of lemon. I guiltily purchased the remaining types of cheese and the lemon (from Columbia I might add), and scurried on home. I'm sure that Barbara Kingsolver is judging me right now.

Life long friends

Sometimes it just makes sense to take a moment to appreciate those friendships that will last a lifetime; with those who know and accept you completely and who have blind faith in you no matter what. I am extremely lucky. That's all for today.