When we are writing, I feel like it gets away that writing itself is all a learning process. You're never "done" and there will always be things you look back and want to change. For example, my small moment story from just a week ago. There were multiple times where I was like, "why would I not have described this better" or "I should have said this".
Me looking at what I wrote a year ago:
Here, you can see the growth just one week can make.
Feb 8th:
Middle school. That should just be it, thats all I need to say. The dreaded "m" word. I just moved to North Carolina from Tennessee and was trying my hardest those past couple of months to make friends with the people I saw the most- the volleyball team. It was a normal practice...lots of fun and very sweaty. After practice we went to the locker room to get our stuff from school and head out to the -nothing short of magical- carpool line. Sometime we would goof off and make middle school humor jokes in the locker room while getting our stuff together and cooling down after practice. So let me preface this with this- I am not sure how it happened. I don't know who started this conversation or how it came up. Low and behold, it came out to me being stuffed into a trashcan. Luckily, it was the huge black ones that you can at least have some breathing room in- not that you really want to breathe in a trash can, but yeah. This wasn't a "lets bully her and put her in a trash can" situation. I practically volunteered in my attempts to "be cool" and make some friends. It was funny and I don't regret it. Yeah you heard me, I'm still friends with some of those people and I have a feeling this event jumpstarted the friendship. The embarrassing part of the story was not that I was in a yummy, girls lockeroom trash can. The embarrassing part was I was stuck - what felt like permanently - in the girl's locker room trash can. My legs were bent just the right way that I couldn't move them. Everyone tried to get me out, tip over the trash can, and even try to turn it upside down. NOPE. I was in there for good. Long (short) story short, the trashcan ended up having to be cut open in order for me to be released. Moral of the story: benched next practice, janitor hated me from then on, I was known as "trash can" for the next month, and I had 14 new best friends.
Feb 16th:
Middle school. Gross. What a time.
That should just be it, thats all I need to say. The dreaded "m" word.
I just moved to Apex, North Carolina from Knoxville, Tennessee and was trying my hardest those past couple of months to make friends with the people I saw the most- the volleyball team.
Keep in mind- Knoxville was a MUCH different place than Apex/Cary. I had not adjusted. All of the sudden, we had neighbors, there was more than two grocery stores to go to, and I was 7 hours away from all of my family other than my parents.
Anyways, back to the story. It was a normal practice...two and a half hours of fun, sweat, and getting yelled at. So, at least this feeling was familiar to Knoxville life (lol).
After practice was over we went to the locker room to get our stuff from school and head out to the - nothing short of magical - carpool line. Now if there was ever a time to look cool, this was it. You were leaving the grounds of captivity and making your exit to the real world, day after day.
Sometimes before the carpool line, we would goof off and make middle school humor jokes in the locker room while getting our stuff together and cooling down after practice. Let me preface with this- I am not sure how it happened. I don't know who started this conversation or how it came up. Low and behold, the event came out to me being picked up and stuffed into a trashcan. Luckily, it was the huge black ones that you can at least have some breathing room in - not that you particularly would want to breathe in a trash can, but yeah.
This wasn't a "lets bully her and put her in a trash can" situation. I practically volunteered in my attempts to "be cool" and make some friends. It was funny and I don't regret it.
Yeah you heard me, I'm still friends with some of those people and I have a feeling this event jumpstarted the friendship.
To everyone's surprise that is reading this, the embarrassing part of the story was in fact NOT that I was in a dark, moist, stuffy, girls locker room trash can.
The embarrassing part was I was stuck - what felt like permanently - in the girl's locker room trash can. My legs were bent and angled in just the right way that I couldn't move them at all. I suddenly knew how those horses that are just born and can't walk feel, stuck, in an unfamiliar yet semi-natural stance.
Everyone tried to get me out, tip over the trash can, and even try to turn it upside down. NOPE. I was in there for good. (For what felt like a) long story short, the trashcan ended up having to be cut open in order for me to be released. Moral of the story: benched next practice, janitor hated me from there on out, I was known as "trash can" for the next month, and I had 14 new best friends. All I remember thinking was, "thank goodness they thought it was funny". Because like imagine if I went through all of that trashcan business and came out (literally) empty handed.
Readings this week:
Brown Girl Dreaming: Part IV
LOVED this page. We are all teachers- so we know how to talk. We can be at the front of a room and be great. We can be talking about poetry, ABC's, algebra, the moon phases, or whatever it is that makes our hearts jump. The second you tell a teacher to sit still and listen, it is a possibility that is not their best quality - and I know it's not mine. I bookmarked this page to help me remember that my students, friends, family and peers all sit beneath my oak tree shade and listen. I need to ALWAYS do the same for them.
This page hit me hard. It resonated with me in a way that this book had not yet. This page evoked a real, emotional, personal response. I wrote more in my writer's notebook but basically this is the "gist":
"Soon, Ill get back to that garden, he says. But most days, all I want to do is lay down and rest."
My grandfather has always had a huge garden of everything you can think of. However, his specialty was green beans. He was out and about one summer day and passed out doing his #thing with the green beans. My grandfather has a past with cancer so we thought something must be up. unfortunately, we were right. So as I'm sure you can imagine - this page stood out to me. I think it is important to remember and appreciate the things that scare you, because all it means is that you love something so much that you're scared to be without it.
TAKR: Science and Midterm Essay
I don't know what else to say about this page other than that I am SUCH a fan of this idea. I feel like this could be seen as a "grandma" thing but then call me what I am.
The only real photos not on my phone, are ones that my grandparents have given me in a card or during a time of achievement.
With a dog, a family, yourself, your classroom, whatever- I think that this is a great way to work on preserving our memories that are only precious when we forget we have them.
Similar to this idea, I did the "one second every day" for a year and it was the best choice I ever made. For me, simple moments that we have forgotten about are sometimes the best ones!
Six Word Memoir:
In my life recently, I have been in such a panicked rush what feels like constantly. Its not that I'm over loaded with work or anything but I just feel like - I'm sure everyone else on earth does - that I have a lot on my plate. Juggling two cities, three classes, family, social activities, and trying to be healthy has just gotten the best of me recently. Like, why in such a rush? Im not trying to hit any specific goals or anything...well I guess other than getting a job, moving, graduating and a couple others...
anyway, that is some of the thought process behind my #sixwordmemoir
A six word memoir should accurately represent a time in your life (Sanders and Smith 2014).
Some resources from the Sanders and Smith article that can help our students start creating their six word memoirs!!
Saunders, J. M., & Smith, E. E. (2014). Every Word is on Trial. International Reading Association, 67(8), 600–605. doi: 10.1002/trtr.1267
I think that this is the best way to sum up everything that the article wants us to know as teachers. If used as a basic outline with room for personal touches, this would jumpstart any teachers' lesson on six word memoirs!
Mentor Texts:
My partner and I used lesson one from chapter five of Mentor Texts to write a mini lesson for brainstorming ways to add detail to our stories.
Here is my finished example I did in my writing journal:
check out the completed lesson plan (with scripting) here:
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