Family. This word surfaced time and again this past week. Most significantly, at mass last Thursday, Father Mike shared how we are part of a larger family supporting him through his difficult journey. We are fortunate to come together not only as a district family, but also a school family.

I look forward to seeing our family reunited tomorrow morning. We will gather in the field as staff, students and parents sharing memories of summer and anticipation of the year to come. Some members join our family for the first time and others gather on this day as on many days before. Regardless, we come together with a common purpose: to begin a satisfying, meaningful school year.

Throughout the year, we will provide support and inspiration, encouragement and care. We will rally together when any one member of our family is in need. And like any family, there will be times of disagreement, disappointment, sorrow and pain. Through it all though, hope stems from the unity and strength of our relationships.

Desmond Tutu once said, “You don’t choose your family. They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them.” As we unite tomorrow, discover the gift.

The morning air is cool and crisp… my school dreams have returned… the back-to-school commercials started weeks ago… the school supplies have been on the store shelves for at least as long. And as much as I try to divert my eyes and ignore the implications, I know our precious summer time is flitting away.

The week ahead is a busy one: parent meetings, finalizing class lists, welcoming new registrations, moving classrooms to accommodate more students, preparing for opening staff meetings. The week following is even busier as the students walk through the doors once again.

Although I enjoy our summer break, there is always a part of me ready to go back: to do what I love to do, to see the people that inspire me to do my job (both colleagues and kids), to welcome the hugs as the students run across the field into my arms. My arms will be wide and welcoming: I look forward to the year ahead!

 

On Friday afternoon, I stopped at the grocery store before heading to a staff member’s house to celebrate the end of the year. In line ahead of me were a mother and her two daughters. The mother exclaimed, “That’s it. I’ve had enough. Time for the two of you to return to school.”

The cashier looked hesitantly at me and then turned to the mother and said, “Didn’t they just get out of school?”

“Yes, at noon today.” Evidently, it will be a long summer for some.

As summer holidays begin, I thank you on behalf of students and parents.

• Thank you for spending countless hours – both inside and outside of school – writing report cards, planning, researching, creating and marking.
• Thank you for taking the time to approach the curriculum creatively to ensure optimal student engagement.
• Thank you for treating your students as individuals, understanding that fair is not always equal.
• Thank you for your passion and persistence sometimes in the face of resistance and negativity.
• Thank you for devoting yourself to this noble profession.

Enjoy a well-earned summer break!

It is hard to believe we have reached year end. And yet, here we are beginning our final week. I always laugh when those outside of education say, “Oh things must be winding down.” It is obvious they have never worked within a school. As we all know, things wind up in June, not down. They only wind down when the last student has left the building for summer.

And although most students look forward to summer vacation, there are also those who dread it. Those who worry about not getting enough food to eat, those who do not want to spend more time with their families, and those who will miss the security of the school day.

I spent considerable time with a few of those students last week. I suspect this week will be the same. And although most of us look forward to the break and all that comes with it, I pray that these students find peace and security. I can help provide food, I can provide emergency numbers and I can reassure them as best I can. And yet, I still have to see them off for the summer and hope that their days are not as bad as they dread.

Let’s make these last five days enjoyable ones for all!

 

This weekend was certainly a time to celebrate! It was father’s day, yes. But in our family we also had another reason to celebrate: one-year-post-bone-marrow-transplant for my sister-in-law! It was truly a day of joy.

The kids enjoyed running and jumping and playing with their cousins. There were games, water fights, food and cake. And the adults… the adults felt a joy deeper than words can express… A joy to spite what might have been… A joy at seeing someone determined to beat this thing… A joy acknowledging each precious day of life.

Albert Camus once wrote, “In the midst of winter, I found there was within me an invincible summer.” With my sister-in-law as inspiration, I am reminded of the power of positive thinking. Summer has arrived and the cold days of winter seem to be behind us.

Recently I reprimanded a young adult for his inappropriate language. Typically, I am fairly liberal in my acceptance of language. I was therefore somewhat surprised when I was truly offended by the language of a worker outside my home. It got me thinking…

Why am I not bothered when it comes to language in movies or the occasional curse of a family member or friend? What was different about this incident? What moved me to speak up about his cursing?

After reflecting, I believe the difference was circumstance. His language was excessive and untimely; he was representing a company; he was within earshot of several homes with no regard for who might be inside; his cursing was not a result of being upset or hurt but simply a case of showboating to his coworkers.

After I spoke up, he seemed truly apologetic. Had he not considered where he was and how he represented himself? Do we have to teach our young to be deliberate about the language they use? *#&$>! yes.

Last week the theme of ritual surfaced time and again. I attended both a retirement party and a funeral; I completed the MS walk; I also heard Father Mike talk about ritual within the church setting.

Why do we have rituals? To celebrate holidays and events. To alleviate anxiety. To cope with difficult circumstance. To grieve. To signify a rite of passage. To honour a life. To gather as family.

Whichever culture we are from, whatever religion we belong to, ritual is present. The elements of the ritual might differ, but the need for ritual remains.

As I walked the MS Walk today for the 25th time, surrounded by others affected by the disease, I felt a closeness with my father. Although he died almost 13 years ago, being part of this event is my way to honour him, to pay tribute to all he did despite the disease. I cannot bring him back, I can no longer visit him, but I can bring him to life through this yearly ritual.

Here’s to you, Dad!

We tried something new last week. Each adult in our building chose a passion. Each of our grade 1-6 students then chose to join one of those adults. The passions included street hockey, baking, film studies, robotics, guitar, yoga, Polish, photography, sculpture, watercolours, book clubs, drama and story writing.

The building was abuzz. For days leading up to the project, students were talking about where they were going, who they were going to work with and what they would be doing.

Students returned to their classrooms energized and inspired. A grade three boy who rarely speaks in class chose Polish and beamed at the end of the session. A grade two student, a new Canadian, told me he was going to golf but quickly added, “what’s golf?” Afterwards his eyes were wide as he demonstrated what he had done: the swing, the path of the ball, the distance even. The day following the project, a young student climbed off the bus clinging to the journal I had given her the day before.

We cannot measure the results of this project on standardized tests. We cannot measure the learning except through anecdotes. Was it worth the time and effort? Was it worth the coordination and logistics?

No question.

 

I sit on a swing at the top of a bank overlooking Strawberry Creek. I hear the water rushing, rolling really, through the rocks below. I pause a moment to listen and an assortment of birds speak as if on cue: chickadees fluttering above me, a woodpecker pecking furiously to impress a mate and another song unidentifiable to my untrained ear.

The sun shines but the wind is cool. The trees do not yet have their spring buds though May presses on. I hear a rustle behind me and look to see a rabbit cavorting in the bush seemingly oblivious to my presence.

A simple change of setting changes my thought process, changes my writing. How often do we give this experience to our students? Reading, writing or even creating art out of the classroom environment? Sprawled on the grass or spread throughout the playground. How might our students’ creations change when we change their setting?

 

Each day I work with small groups of students: struggling readers and English Language Learners. I absolutely love my job. Yet this week, as I worked with two young students who continue to struggle to learn letter names (sounds are nowhere in my sight lines with them yet), I had to remind myself that they are not yet capable of learning this information.

I teach and reteach. I find creative ways to reinforce the letters. I incorporate sensory matters and physical movement. We laugh and play as we learn. And still, the progress is painfully slow. Often I have to avoid the temptation of saying, “We just went over this.” or “You should know this.” Because, they don’t.

And with as much repetition and direct teaching as they are getting, I remind myself that they are not yet ready. They are trying. They want to know these arbitrary symbols that I call letters. They long to join the world of the literate.

So my journey with them continues: I dig a little deeper for more patience and increasingly creative ways of teaching the same thing, and I look forward to the day when all 26 letters are identifiable.

Who will rejoice more? The jury is out.