Beauty in the day: Snow Moon, penumbral lunar eclipse, and the New Year’s comet. For some, these things are celestial delights; for some, they are warning signs of possible difficulties. For educators, these things are the events that give allowance for “ah-ha” and “make it work” moments. It’s funny how a tough day can really get stacked up until you discover that there is a full moon. Then it’s, “okay, cool; I’ve got this”, and sleeves are rolled up with a sense of purpose. Full moons bring out all the color and character of the night sky, and it seems to do the same for schools.
It’s a grace-giver.
Who wouldn’t want that?
Beauty in the day: his teacher brought him in to the office. He’d been there before, more than once (more than twice) under less-than-optimal circumstances.
“Ms. Nordstrom, if you have a minute, My Friend has something to show you.” I did have a minute, and I could see the news was good. I took a minute to tease him a bit, telling him not to smile while he told me his news. Naturally, this was a terribly difficult command, but he did try. He was unsuccessful, both at not smiling, and at getting the news out, since it’s hard not to smile when you feel very happy, and it’s hard to get the news out when your teacher is so proud she beats you to it. “My Friend has had a very good day!” She started to show me his chart, all filled up with goodness, and Her Friend was turning every shade of happiness, as his teacher used descriptions like, “he CRUSHED his math!” Letting inspiration take hold (and having whooped and hollered and high-fived, and used other exclamations like, “NO WAY!!!), I got out my phone to take pictures of his proofs to send to the principal, who was out of the office for the day. “OmiGOSH! I can’t wait for him to see this stuff, dude!” I told him. “I’m going to text it to him right away!”
They left the office then, and I sent the pictures. I know my principal, and tomorrow Her Friend is going to get another shower of glory.
THIS is school. And I can tell you’re all jealous.
Beauty in the day: making plans for Spring Break to be the “Coco-In-Charge” while the Littles’ mom and dad go away. Besides the fact that it’s always sweet to be with the grandkids, mine have been racking up points lately. My daughter’s birthday is just a few days after mine, and Jaffrey said, “Oh Mommy! It’s your birthday? Are you going to invite Coco to come?” 🙂 This was in addition to her exclamation upon seeing the colorfully wrapped gifts I had sent: “Oh, Mama! Coco LOVES you!” Everett was caught a few days later talking on his mommy’s phone to a poor, unsuspecting man. Not realizing it was “live” and not “memorex”, Bree asked who he was talking to when she found him, cuddled on the couch with his blanket and her phone. He sighed a long contented sigh and replied, “Oh, I’m just talking to my Coco.”
It will be a good visit.
Beauty in the day: my office is like a fishbowl; surrounded by a wall of windows. Today at dismissal, I stood at my desk and waved to all the kids as they were walked to the front of the school. Yeah, they liked that, and their little faces broke out in smiles as I received hundreds of waves in return.
Good way to end the school day.
Beauty in the day: being reminded that everyone has a viewpoint – everyone has a perspective. Today I see many pictures of planes flying into towers; when I see this, I am only saddened by the insidiousness of such an act. I am reminded of the hurt and pain that so many people felt at their incomprehensible loss – nearly 1,200 of them muslims, who were innocent. I am saddened further to think that those people are now reliving the rejection brought on by fear, as they listen to Americans once again treat them as infidels. It should not be. It should never be.
If you are feeling fearful, there is only one thing that can rid you of it:
Beauty in the day: I don’t think she had permission to come in from recess, but there she was.
“I would like some magical powers.”
“Oh, er….I’m sorry?”
“Can you please give me some magical powers?”
Really? Who let her in…..?
“I’m sorry, but you can’t just come in here and ask for magical powers. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Have you filled out an application? You have to fill out an application form. It takes a bit of time, and after the application is submitted, there is an investigation to see if you qualify.”
Shifty eyes; no response.
“I can’t simply hand out magical powers. You need an application. Or,” – the “or” interested her.
“…you can go back outside and see if you can find some magic on your own.”
She decided to wing it in her own.
Beauty in the day: it was a blood day. Not just any blood day, but apparently “blood day”.
Now, normally, on a regular day, a student (could be male, could be female) will come into the office, wailing loudly, all the while drooling, and cry out that they are bleeding, with great drama, as well as some pomp and circumstance. In some rare cases, you can actually see the blood, and in even more rare cases, you are, at least momentarily, alarmed that the injury may be great.
This was not that kind of blood day.
Today I had 8 (more than a half-dozen) visitations from students that had gotten the memo that it was a blood day. Each and every one of them (of varying ages, mind you) who came to visit, walked in calmly, completely dry-eyed, marched up to my desk, and said (more or less), “I have blood.” And they did. Okay, I take that back. One of them said, “I think I have blood,” but then realized that, no, she didn’t.
All of the blood on “blood day” today was minimal, and some of it was even regarded as a positive sign (albeit somewhat painful, when you add the swelling that a very wiggly loose tooth can bring about).
Very soon, perhaps even tomorrow, it will no longer be blood day, and this will most likely mean that the sight of blood (that often requires a magnifying glass) will be the reason for a good, loud, crying fit.
But not today. Because today was Blood Day.