The Age-Old Question...

Ominous storm clouds are looming to the north.  I hear thunder, which is something of a rarity here.

It looks like it might rain.

It sounds like it might rain.

It possibly smells like it might rain, but the wind is blowing so hard that all I can smell is freshly-released pine needles.

Oh.  And we kind of need some rain.

So...

Do I proactively remove the cushions from the lawn furniture and bring them in the house, increasing the chances of this much-needed moisture skirting our area entirely by at least 80%,

or

Do I allow them to get soaked in the torrential downpour that is almost guaranteed to occur if I leave them?

Decisions, decisions.

Well Done, Sisters Suffragette!

Thank you, Facebook, for taking the time to remind me--amid all of the photos of everyone's adorable dogs--that not only is today National Dog Day, but it is also Women's Equality Day.

95 years ago today, the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution extended basic voting rights to yet another group of misrepresented citizens in this country--women.

History fascinates me.  When I'm reminded of the anniversaries of monumental milestones like this, my own heritage comes to mind.  I like to imagine what those moments and experiences were like for my ancestors.

Today, I'm thinking of my great grandmother.  The first seven of my years on earth overlapped with the last seven of hers, so I remember her fairly well.

Ruth Harvey Daniel was wicked-smart.  And opinionated.  She drank copious amounts of coffee and smoked unfiltered Camels constantly.  She was rail-thin.  I don't think I ever saw her in anything other than a dress and hose.  She loved babies.  I am also opinionated, and I remember vividly an argument that we had when I was four about whether or not peanut butter and jelly sandwiches should also have margarine on them.  She maintained yes.  I was in the "Eww! Gross!" camp.  She gave me a beautiful clear umbrella with blue butterflies on it for Christmas one year.

I wish she had lived so much longer.  I wish she had lived long enough for me to ask her about her life back in the "olden" days.

Today I wish I could ask her  what August 26, 1920 was like for her.

Maybe there were celebrations in the street.

I wonder if it was just an ordinary day.  Perhaps she wasn't aware anything of significance had taken place until she read it in the Kansas City Star on the morning of the 27th.

I want to know if she was a staunch Democrat even then--excited to cast her vote for James Cox and Franklin Roosevelt in the upcoming presidential election.

I imagine that she held her two month-old infant and was filled with gratitude that her baby daughter would grow up always have a voting voice in American politics.

I wonder if she imagined the possibilities that this event would present for her future granddaughters, great granddaughters, and great-great granddaughters.

I hope that she sees me today, raising a glass in toast to her and to all of the women and men of her generation who worked tirelessly for the 19th Amendment.

Equal Rights for All!

The End of an Era

Finally, after nearly sixteen years of being on her service, our very last Tooth Fairy visit is scheduled for tonight.

I hope she stops by the ATM sometime today, because the dentist handed my youngest daughter three beauties (actually, that's pretty much a lie.  I took a quick look and I think I threw up a little bit in my mouth.  Teeth gross me out.)--some of them complete with roots and everything.

Anyway, this pick-up is gonna cost her.

I'm trying to sort out how I feel about this relationship of ours ending.

In all honesty, Ms. Tooth Fairy's service here has been marginal at best.

While other kids were getting neatly folded Lincolns, Matchbox cars, Lego sets, Playstation games, DVDs, Barbie dolls, etc, our kids were lucky if they got Washingtons or a hand-full of change.  I guess she figured since they were home-schooled, there was less chance of them comparing with their peers and realizing just how much they were getting gypped.

In her defense, she did step it up once a formal complaint was lodged by our youngest.  A complaint that coincidentally coincided with enrollment in our local brick and mortar school.  :)

Rarely, if ever, did the Tooth Fairy actually complete her mission on the scheduled pick-up date.  Usually we'd have to wait around for a couple of days.  Even after we moved to California and weather was no longer an issue.

These last few visits, she's been incredibly lazy.  She leaves the money in my wallet by the front door and promises to collect the teeth "next time."

I don't get it.  I have a Facebook account, and Instagram.  She does know that I can see how well she's getting the job done for all those other kids out there, doesn't she?

As I said before, tonight is her last visit.

Here's hoping she nails it.

Why I'm Opting Out

It's that time of year, again.  Standardized Testing time.

And we've decided to opt our children out.

Before everyone gets too excited--this is not a partisan political piece.  Nor is it a conspiracy theory piece.  Nor is it a judgement on anyone for their feelings about Common Core, standardized testing, No Child Left Behind, or the education system in America.  I consider myself to be a political moderate--occasionally swinging reasonably left and reasonably right of center--knowing that the word "reasonably" is, indeed, an opinion.

So here's a little peek into the way my brain works and why we've decided to have our children take a pass on participating in Common Core Data Collection this year.

Spoiler Alert:  It's not (just) because I'm a dissenting pot-stirrer.  :)


I don't know enough about it.

As a teacher, I know something about the standards.  I've looked at them.  Frankly, they look okay to me.  They're not that different from what Kansas, at least, had in the past.  But the standards aren't rocket science.  Enough research has been done at this point to give us a pretty good guideline of when students should be introduced to what, what skills are prerequisite for others, etc.  As a teacher, and as a mother who has relocated her children from a central and rural part of the U.S. to a coastal and urban part, there is a good deal of comfort in knowing that what is being taught has some continuity from place to place.  The actual standards aren't the issue for me. It's the fact that as I've tried to research Common Core...where it came from...what its purpose is...I've come across some very disturbing information. "Big Brother is watching you" kind of information.  That information could be completely false.  Or it could be completely true.  Most likely it's got elements of both.  I have a lot of fact-checking to do  But at this point, I honestly haven't researched it enough to allow my children to be guinea pigs in something that's pretty new, pretty unexplained, and makes me feel pretty uncomfortable.

The test itself and the testing process bothers me.

While I commend the powers that be for recognizing the damage that has been done to our learners by spending the bulk of our school year teaching children how to choose the one correct answer out of four possible choices, and are therefore trying to adjust their testing methods accordingly,  I'm still not convinced that "Smarter Balanced" or any individual state-created alternative is smarter than a real-live person looking over a student's work and manually grading the process he/she used to arrive at an answer.
 Oh, and guess what?  Computers are glitchy.  These systems require a lot of bandwidth to run. Sometimes they crash.  I watched a student this week painstakingly spend 11/2 hours on a math section.  He FINALLY finished it, submitted it, and the system glitched.  It "lost" over half of his answers.  He had to redo that part of the test.  As I watched his face register frustration, dismay, and defeat, I saw the eyes of my three children.  Why should they be the ones that  pay the price because we can't seem to use all of our collective intelligence to find a better way to evaluate school effectiveness?  And speaking of computers...
I'm not sure about your districts, but ours here is administering all tests on iPads this year.  This is interesting, because my children still do the majority of their daily learning with pencil and paper.  They use iPads to work on projects occasionally in class, but my son stated that he has never taken a test of any kind for any class on a computer or on an iPad.  My daughter has specifically stated to me that she does better work on paper than she does on a screen.  So do I.  Yet  this is the method we're using to assess all children's yearly knowledge, regardless of  individual learning style. Oh, and about yearly knowledge...
Maybe someone could explain to me why children are being asked to take a test this week over information that they are supposed to master this school year?  What are the remaining nine weeks of the year for if my child is proficient in all the standards already? Shouldn't he/she be able to cut out early?  Oh, and for a piece of interesting information, ask teachers what they think about the last quarter of school year after standardized testing.  They'll tell you it's their favorite time of year.  Why?  Because they get to use teachable moments without the threat of high-stakes testing over their heads.  They can evaluate the individual needs of the students in their classes and adjust instruction accordingly--covering the gaps that students have (even if it's not a standard for their grade that year!) and accelerating where appropriate.  They get to introduce literature, current events, social justice, etc. into their classrooms. Sigh. I wish my children's classes could be like that all year long.

My children are more than a single score on a standardized test.

Especially when no one even seems to know what the "score to get" is going to be. If I were a betting person, I'd bet the "meets standards" score is going to be lower than most parents would be comfortable seeing on their child's grade card.  Don't get me wrong.  I want to know how my children are doing in school. I think assessment is a very important part of a well-developed teaching method.  But more importantly, I want them to develop a lifelong love of learning.  And I want to know that they're leaving the walls of their brick and mortar school buildings in June knowing more than they did the previous August.  Otherwise, what is the purpose?  None of my research to this point assures me that Common Core data collection is going to give me that information.  

My children's schools, teachers, and administrators are more than the collective percentage of students who "meet standards" on high stakes tests in their schools.

I've administered a decent number of these kinds of tests in my day,  I've looked at different testing engines, taken practice tests, and researched what kinds of questions are in their test banks.  I have never, not once, seen a question that asks a student about his/her relationship with the human being who invests in his/her education every day.  Even though we know from brain research that we retain information better long-term when we have a personal relationship with which to tie the material to.   There is no question on any of those tests that addresses my experience of meeting one of my son's teachers for the first time at Back to School Night.  Her first words after hearing "I'm Nelson's mom," were "Oh!  You just moved here from Kansas.  How is he adjusting?  Is he doing okay here in California?"  It comes as no surprise to me that she is one of his favorites and that he learns more in her class than in some of his others.  Common Core data collection isn't asking about the hours that our principal spent with students and families outside of school offering support and assistance when tragedy struck  our high school a few weekends ago, for example.  In my opinion, assessing a school's effectiveness by means of high-stakes testing is not only inaccurate and ineffective, it's lazy.

Why should teachers, schools, and districts be the only ones in the hot seat?

Yes.  Good teachers who do their jobs well are a huge part of successful student learning.  But so is having a student's basic needs met.  So is being read to and conversed with in one's formative years.  So is having (a) responsible adult(s) in the home who do things like regulate screen time and TV watching, help with homework, enforce bedtimes, etc.  If we're going to hold people accountable for the education process in this country--and I think we should--then shouldn't we hold everyone who plays a significant role in it accountable? Personally, I would be furious if there were some standardized test my children had to take to evaluate my effectiveness as a parent with regards to my part in contributing to the success of their education.  Yet, I'm just as responsible not to leave my children behind as any teacher.  Maybe more so.  My opinion is:  if it's not okay for it to be done to me, then it's sure not okay for it to be done to them.

Is this a good use of our educational dollars?

In light of school budget and money crises all over the country, I have to wonder how much money is being spent on Common Core testing. Money that could probably be better used elsewhere.

It's my legal right to opt out, and what am I telling my state and my country when I don't?

By having my children participate in Common Core data collection, I feel like I'm telling the state of California and the United States of America that I'm fine with the way students and schools are being assessed for effectiveness.  And right now, I'm just not.

I believe in American education.  I believe that we will eventually figure out a way to effectively and fairly measure students' educational progress and school quality.  I commend the people who are working hard to try to get this done.  I hope that at each turn, we're learning more, and adjusting, and changing, and improving the system.

But at this point, I don't think Common Core Data collection is the best we can do.

The Bee's Knees

Living in California is the bee's knees.

(And because you're just DYING to know, admit it:  
'Bee's knees' began to be used in early 20th century America. Initially, it was just a nonsense expression that denoted something that didn't have any meaningful existence.)

Literally.

As in, we have bees.

And not just a few here or there pollinating our flowers.

They've made a nice hive in the tiny space between our chimney and the roof line of the house.

Now, I'm a live and let live kind of person where bees are concerned.  They contribute serious value to our ecosystem, and no one in my family is allergic that I know of.

Except that apparently, the lifespan of a worker in a honeybee hive isn't very long, and they've chosen my front living room as a suitable spot for their bee graveyard.

Every day, I find three or four dead bees on the floor.

I never see any living--just dead.  I don't know if they flutter in somehow from the chimney on their last leg in the middle of the night and hospice here first, or if their families have a little "celebration of life" ceremony and then shove them down the chimney.  I seriously can't figure out how they're getting in my house.

Neither can the Terminix man.

Oh, and guess what?  Extermination of bees isn't included in one's typical maintenance pest service.

I get to pay $200 for someone to shoot chemicals of mass destruction into the space where the hive is and then seal the opening--murdering all of the poor honeybees.

Because there's no way to remove the hive without doing structural damage to my house.  I asked.  I'm not totally heartless.

And can I just say that it's pretty frustrating to pay what I do for raw honey at the store when a bunch of bees are making it in my roof?

Maybe if they'd leave a jar or two on the hearth of the fireplace when they say "farewell" to the next life well lived, we could work out some sort of co-existence.

Never a dull moment at Pozo de Dinero!

We'll See How This One Goes

I'm unplugging for Lent this year.

What does this mean, exactly?  Well, for me, for the next forty days at least, it means...  

No Facebook (obviously).  Or Instagram (which I just have to stalk follow my kids) or Twitter (which I use even less).

But also no cell phone/tablet data.  Which I guess means I'm going to have to start reading books printed on actual paper at bedtime.  I better get a sleep mask for Better Half.

No computer outside of the hours between 5:30 am and 3:00 pm  Pacific (when I'm working).

No blog.  I wonder if I remember how to keep a diary?  I think the last diary I kept with any sort of regularity was when I was a sophomore in high school.  Do they even make diaries any more?

I'd love to unplug twenty-four hours a day, but I'm a long-term substitute for a virtual classroom, and in order to collect the paycheck, being "plugged in" is kind of part of the deal.  

Why give up this, you ask? Why not chocolate, or wine, or (gasp!) coffee? 

Actually, you probably didn't, but I want it out there on the 'net, since if you can find it on the World Wide Web, it's gospel truth.  :o)

And the reason is simple.  I'm just not strong enough to give up coffee.  

But in all seriousness,

I want to give up something  that is going to be difficult for me.  Really difficult.  

Technology...Facebook...my smartphone...email...it all allows me to stay connected to the people I love the most outside of the people who live here in this house with me.  The people that, honestly,  I'm a little scared will forget about me if I go off of the grid for even one day...let alone forty.

But that's a chance I'm going to have to take.

Because this is also something that I think is going to be really good for me.  

I feel guilty about the amount of time I spend plugged in to a virtual existence.  

I am away from my family all day long.  And yet for the few short hours we get to be together on a given day, I'm "working" on the computer, trolling Facebook, reading the news on my phone, sending texts, doing the New York Times Crossword Puzzle (or trying to) ad nauseum.    

It's ridiculous.  

My oldest son will likely leave home never to live here again apart from school holidays in less than two years.  My youngest daughter will follow suit in less than six.

My oldest daughter lives two thousand miles away.  I'd give anything to have all those moments where I was too distracted by cyberspace to give her my undivided attention back again.  

Who knows?  Maybe forty days of being unplugged from the world I left and still miss so very much will help me to discover my purpose in this one.  

Or maybe it won't.  

Either way.  

  

When Will I Use This in Real Life?

Welcome to Casey's first segment of "When Will I Use This in Real Life?"

Happy you could be here!!

I'm a teacher.  I've taught a range of grades, and I do believe that one of the rites of passage of for a teacher of grades 4 and up is to hear "When am I ever going to need to know how to do this?" after having spent countless hours to try to create a meaningful and engaging lesson on a less than thrilling topic.

So, during our time together, we will take a look at some of those pesky skills on which we still feel like we spent way too many hours working during those long-ago school days, and see how they are, indeed necessary (or at least beneficial) to "grownup" life.

Today's Skills:
Basic Computation and Reading Comprehension

"Grownup" Life Application:
The Gym

The Situation:
Failing to use the correct mathematical computation to figure the number of racked lunges to complete.  Subject, me, who shall remain nameless, mistakenly multiplied instead of divided to figure out how many to do on each leg.  (Basic Computation Error)  Even though 3 each leg was written in parentheses next to 6 Racked Lunges (Reading Comprehension Error).

Consequence of Error(s):

1.  A workout time and/or rounds completed score that leaves one discouraged at best and humiliated at worst.

2. Literally unable to sit for longer than ten minutes at a time the next day.

Don't be like this me.

Somehow, I graduated from college AND was granted a teaching certificate.

I suppose that in light of the above disclosure, I should maybe wait a few weeks before posting my thoughts on why teachers should not be the scapegoats for all the education troubles in America.  :)

Ringing in the New Year

I read The Happiness Project by Gretchin Rubin several years ago.  

My friend, Stephanie, loaned it to me. 

Well, I think she meant to loan it to me.  But it's still on my shelf.  Don't loan me your books.  I'm terrible about returning them.

I remember standing in her living room.  Tears were streaming down my face.  It had been a hard year. 

She handed me the book. 

"Here,"  She said.  "I just picked this up at Costco.  You should read it."  

It is worth noting that I now live within ten minutes of a Costco.  It's one of my favorite places.  Every time I tell someone that I found some amazing thing at Costco, I miss Stephanie with a pain that's physical.

I really like Gretchin Rubin.  

What I know of her.  Which isn't much.  

But what's not to like about someone who is basically happy but spends months trying to be happier and then writes about it?  

Plus she grew up in Kansas City.  And you've gotta love people who are from Kansas City.  :)

Anyway, her book had lots of great stuff in it.  But the thing I remember most was this little phrase:

The days are long, but the years are short.

If I had to sum up 2014, I would use that phrase.  The days were long.  Incredibly long.  Unbearably long. Excruciatingly long.  

But at the risk of sounding cliche, it feels like January 1, 2014 was just yesterday.

I won't lie.  

2014 has been hard.  

I no longer feel "new in town," but it doesn't yet feel like "home" here.

I still miss my life in Kansas very much.  

I was visiting with someone the other day who had spent her entire married life here, moved away for a year, and then moved back.  

Because this is home for her.

And for an brief instant, I was crazy jealous.  Yes, because returning to her "home" was a viable option for their family--but also because they consider this place home.

And sometimes I wonder if I ever will.

Don't misunderstand.  I trust that this is where I'm supposed to be.  There are great things about this place.  I'm not trying to complain.

But living here is hard.

For me.

Johanna asked me this evening what my New Year's resolution is.  I told her I didn't really know.

Better Half and I have a tradition of doing a Whole30 during the month of January--but that's not really a resolution.  

I always hope that a month of strict healthy eating will "stick" throughout the rest of the year better than it does.  

I hope to exercise better, keep the house cleaner, be more patient.  But I hope those things all the time.  

Not just at the New Year.

But it would be good to have a resolution for 2015.  Something to distinguish this year from the last one.

So my resolution is this:

I resolve to figure out what my purpose is in being here.  In living in California.  In not living in Kansas.

On the surface, we're here because Better Half's job is here.  

Since I'm a teacher, it's never going to be pragmatic to relocate to a place because of my job.

But I believe there's a reason for me to be here as well.

Hopefully, by the time I post on January 1, 2016, I'll know what it is.  

Or I'll at least be 365 days closer to figuring it out.