One Year Later: Why Our Kids Need Us to Focus on the Positive

One year ago yesterday, my students left the classroom with books and whatever they would need for the next two weeks. I closed my classroom door, never expecting that it would be almost a year before we would return.

On this anniversary of the beginning of probably one of the most challenging years our country has experienced, I feel incredibly thankful for being able to be back in the classroom with a handful of students. While our reality is still far from normal, it feels like we are getting closer every day. Just being able to be in the presence of young people again gives me an energy and hope that I haven't had for such a long time.

However, I can't stop thinking about all the deficit-thinking I keep hearing. Lately, I have heard many discussions and read various articles about how the kids are "behind." Behind what? The artificial standards the education system has created? Behind their peers who have also had to live through and navigate the past year? I have read about the "learning loss" they have sustained as a result of the various means of educating them this past year. How will they catch up? What practices can we put in place in order for them to get back what they have lost?

Calling attention to the supposed deficits our kids have is taking away from everything they are and still can be. Instead of focusing on what they might be missing, why don't we concentrate on what our kids can do? We have asked them to be flexible - to learn from their bedrooms, kitchen tables, or a closet down the hall. We've asked them to stay away from their friends, not hug their grandparents, to cover their smiles wherever they go. And what have they done? They have listened. They have accepted the rules. They have adjusted. They have made us proud.

Our kids have learned more over the past 12 months than they would have otherwise. They've lived through a pandemic. They've learned to find new ways to play. They have learned self-discipline and responsibility. Many have learned to navigate new technology and have had to attend school in ways that are completely different from what they are used to. They've had to help out more at home. Some have had to learn how to process the stages of grief as they've experienced the loss of someone they love. Many have learned to appreciate small things, and for the first time, some may have learned what a privilege it is to be able to go to school.

The past year has not been easy on anyone, and to continually point out what our kids are not learning is to diminish everything they have learned. Maybe they are not on a certain reading level - yet - or able to complete an advanced math problem - yet - but they are doing the best they can in a time in their lives that has been unlike any other. To claim that kids aren't learning anything is to marginalize all the work students, teachers, and parents are doing to try to make this year as normal as possible when it is anything but.  

In a normal school year, there are kids who are "behind." This is not a new concept, but the pandemic has exacerbated it by bringing attention to it as everyone watches how schools respond. What about the kids who were already reading below grade level, who had trouble completing grade-level math? Teachers have been losing sleep for years trying to figure out ways to meet and reach each child where they are - without the added layers of uncertainty, worry, and grief that have infiltrated this entire school year.

Where they are. That is a concept that really should be brought to the forefront of the discussions about education currently. Instead of holding onto the grandiose ideas of where kids should be, why not focus on where they are - and then try to move them forward? Find ways to engage them, let them be creative, motivate them to want to learn. Find ways to build them up instead of letting them hear us speak of all the ways they are falling behind. Why not recognize and celebrate the strengths of our kids and build from there?

We have to change our deficit thinking into the kind of thinking that is going to help kids grow and become the thriving teens and adults we know they can be. It only takes a few influential adults in a child's life to help change that child's trajectory. Deficit thinking sets our kids up for failure, but a strong belief in their assets is what can make all the difference. 

Kids are always listening, watching, emulating our behaviors. If they are constantly hearing about how behind they are, where is the motivation to try to move ahead? We need to focus on the multitude of things kids can do. Don't negate the fact that everyone is trying their best. Our kids are going to be okay. Give them a hug. Sit down and read a book together. Have a conversation. They have a lot to teach us about resiliency and flexibility, and they will continue to rise to our expectations.

Running Out of Time

(very rough draft)
Running Out of Time

They say the years are short.
Just yesterday
I heard her heartbeat
for the first time
and then
she snuggled against my chest
and I felt her tiny breaths.

Just yesterday
she took timid steps
for the first time
and then
she was running across the yard,
pigtails flying in the wind.

Just yesterday
she said my name
for the first time
and then
she told stories faster
than the words could leave her mouth.

They say right now the days are long.
Today
we stepped onto the pavement
together
and then
the cadence of our feet
fell into a silent rhythm.

Today
we inhaled and exhaled
together
and then
the sound of our breath
carried on a quiet conversation.

Today
we ran the distance
together
and then
I turned to look at
the young woman beside me
and wondered
where all the
years
have gone.

Responsive Teaching

The past two days, I had the opportunity to share my passion for reading and my belief in reading workshop with other educators. After agonizing over my presentation for weeks, it was not until I was lying in bed the night before the first presentation that one word came to mind to describe reading workshop.

A workshop model is responsive.

When teachers are able to sit with students, confer with them about what they are reading, and then decide what skills those students need, that is the heart of responsive teaching. A workshop model allows teachers to formatively assess their students through conferences and guided practice, and then they are able to determine their students' needs and address them through mini-lessons, teaching them strategies along the way to make them better readers.

When school districts mandate that teachers use a basal reader, or textbook, to teach reading skills, those skills are being taught without regard to the individual readers in the classroom. A basal reader includes grade level stories and articles along with teaching resources. If followed with fidelity, most programs tell teachers the exact order in which they have to teach the stories and the skills. Unfortunately, individual student needs are not taken into account with this prescriptive method.

It is interesting to me that the dictionary definition of basal is "forming or belonging to a bottom or base."  What happens when students are expected to read the basal, yet they don't have the basic skills needed to be able to access the text? The reality is that so many of our students are reading below grade level, yet they are continually being given materials that are on grade level through programs from educational publishers. Where is the "base" for these students who keep getting pushed along as their grade level rises but their reading level does not?

Pernille Ripp, an educator and author that I respect and follow on social media, just posted a quote on Instagram from Richard Allington's "What Really Matters When Working with Struggling Readers." It is, "...no research existed then, or exists now, to suggest that maintaining fidelity to a core reading program will provide effective reading lessons." Teachers have told me that they have been told that they have to use a textbook because they "don't have a core reading program." Since when are our students not at the core of everything we do? Reading workshop IS a core reading program, and it takes into account all readers at all levels every minute of the class period.

In a reading workshop model, students are able to work on their vocabulary, comprehension, and fluency in materials that they can read and that they want to read. Teachers are then able to meet students where they are and nudge them forward with one-on-one conferences. When teachers notice that students are missing particular skills or need extra practice with a previously taught concept, they are able to respond to those needs by teaching them strategies they can carry with them throughout their reading lives.

Giving kids time to read and books they want to read is one of the most important things we can do for them. Every day they should be having authentic reading experiences in which they use strategies to tackle whatever text they are reading, and we should be there beside them, ready to support them when they need it most. We should be having rich conversations with them about what they are reading. Reading workshop includes a great deal of on-the-spot teaching, which I would argue, can have more impact on individual readers than anything else. Workshop allows teachers to respond immediately to readers' needs instead of waiting for those skills to appear somewhere in a textbook. Yes, it takes work; yes, it is easier for someone to tell us what to teach. But shouldn't we focus on what is best for our students?

Riding in the Car with My Teenage Daughter

There are many ways to measure growth. We may hang an oversized ruler on a wall and mark different milestones in a child's life. We may keep track of stats from doctor's visits. We may take pictures every year in front of a birthday cake. Yet sometimes we don't even recognize the growth in the child sitting beside us day in and day out. Seemingly in the blink of an eye, it just happens.

One morning on the way to school, I happened to glance at my daughter, sitting in the passenger seat. Long brown hair, long eyelashes, hazel eyes fixed ahead - the same eyes that had just been rolling at me moments before. The scowl that had been on her face replaced by a smile as she started singing aloud to the song coming from her phone, which, these days, is never far from her hand.

I'm not sure when she evolved from the little girl in pigtails in her carseat in the back to this young woman suddenly sitting beside me. Long gone are the days of listening to Dora the Explorer songs on repeat. Gone are the days of looking in the rearview mirror to see her tiny hands grasping her white blanket, sparkling eyes and cute smile peeking back at me. Gone are the car rides filled with singing ABCs, playing games, and listening to stories of what she did at preschool instead of taking a nap.

These days, I find that many of our car rides are spent in silence or punctuated only by the music coming from my daughter's phone. I ask questions that yield one word answers, and then her attention is diverted elsewhere to anything more captivating than a mom trying to make conversation. I know that this is part of being a teenager, but I don't think I was prepared for this measure of growth. I miss that little voice in the back seat.

Just as I did when she was younger, I have started to truly cherish these car rides, though on a different level. I'm not sure that the fact that she is growing up has ever been more evident to me than it is right now. We may not discuss the day in the same detail as her younger self would allow, but we are together. One day all of her possessions won't be strewn througout my car - it will be empty. One day we won't be arguing about homework or dinner or what she forgot at home. One day I won't be driving her to and from activities, constantly in a rush. The next time I get frustrated because I find trash under the front seat or have to drive back and forth across town, I need to stop and remind myself that this stage of her life is just another mark on the continuing growth chart that I will look back on with wonder as to how it filled so fast.

Regardless of how many eye rolls or exasperated huffs I get, I have come to appreciate my teenager's current love language. After many rough morning starts, most of our rides start with, "Any song requests?" and then the rest of our ride is spent sharing a very diverse range of music that inevitably brings us both to a common ground where we don't have to speak to know that the love is there. She may not tell me in words, but I can usually gain insight into her emotions from her music choice of the day. I may not be able to make her belly-laugh like I could when she was little, but my car rapping skills never fail to bring a smile to her face. And if nothing else, we start and finish our day together, just the two of us.

So until the day comes when she gets into her own car and drives away, I'm going to let my no-longer-little-girl push play and sit back and enjoy the music.

Why Kids Need to Read the Tough Stuff

"You know the thing about magic, Charlie? We can wish on clovers and shooting stars and ice flowers all we want. But in the end, the only real magic is what's inside us and the people we love. Some things are beyond even that magic."

On this unusually quiet and uneventful Saturday afternoon, I have just finished the last pages of Kate Messner's newest book The Seventh Wish. This is a book that has been on my radar for months, and I am finding it hard to put into words the plethora of emotions I am feeling as I close it.

Back in June, I heard reports that a librarian had rescinded her invitation for Kate Messner to speak to students at her school. You can read Messner's blog post about it here.  I find it completely unfathomable that anyone would keep this book out of the hands of children. In fact, children are the ones that NEED to read it.

The Seventh Wish is about Charlie, a typical middle-school-aged girl who has a close family and loves Irish dancing. One day, Charlie goes ice fishing with her neighbor and his grandmother, where she catches a quite unusual fish - one with emerald eyes who offers to grant her a wish if she throws him back. Not believing what is happening, Charlie makes a wish to see if there is any truth to it.  Her wish comes true, but not necessarily the way she had hoped. She continues going back to the same fishing spot and makes more wishes, all of which come true but in convoluted ways. Just when she starts to think that maybe her wishes are causing more trouble than good, Charlie's sister Abby has some complications in her own life and starts down a path that Charlie struggles to understand. Charlie quickly finds out that all the wishes in the world can't change what is happening to her sister and her family.

In the midst of a story about friendship, family, and usual middle grade worries, Messner has expertly and tastefully written about addiction in a way that is both relevant and appropriate for upper elementary to middle grade readers. She has included all of the typical tween worries - friends, boys, extracurricular activities, family - with a touch of magic that creates a scenario that is just the tiniest bit outside the realm of possibility to make it feel real. The way in which she handles the topic of addiction is both realistic and gentle, yet it is not the sole focus of the book that runs deep with other themes.

According to the Partnership for Drug-Free Kids, one in ten Americans is addicted to alcohol and drugs.  The children sitting in our classrooms have probably encountered someone with an addiction at some point in their lives, and if they haven't, they probably will.  What better way to help them understand and process this very real sickness than through literature? Addiction is real.  It affects everyone involved, and it will for a lifetime. There are children that sit in my classroom every day that I know need to read this book.  There are children all across the country that need to read this book.  They need  to hear these words, over and over:

"'There's nothing you can do when someone you love is an addict. So you just...' She shrugs. 'You keep living. And do other stuff.'"

I wish this book had been around when I was in middle school.  I wish I had had a teacher that handed it to me, urging me to read it so I could feel a little less alone. Growing up with someone who has an addiction is draining.  It is so hard for children to understand, and sometimes it seems like life is full of one broken promise after another. Charlie and Abby's story on the pages of this book was so heartfelt and real, I found myself tearing up with recognition of all of the emotions they were feeling.

Toward the end of the book, Abby describes addiction in a way that is so straightforward and true, defining it in a way that is often extremely difficult for children or those outside the addiction to even begin to understand:

"That's the whole thing with addiction, Charlie. And it's the worst thing in the whole world. Knowing that you want to promise and never, ever hurt the people you love again. And knowing that the addiction is bigger than you, bigger than love, bigger than everything. If I made that promise, I'd be lying. And I'm not going to do that."

Who are we, as adults, to deny children the opportunity to read a book because it deals with an issue that is mature, yet very real in their lives? We can never tell which book will be the one that changes a child's life. Books that are relevant to children's lives are the ones to which they need access. They need to read about characters that they can believe in and that can give them hope in some of life's most difficult situations.

The Seventh Wish spoke to my heart, and I wholeheartedly believe that it belongs on classroom and library shelves everywhere. Children need to read about tough subjects. Adults may feel uncomfortable discussing them with children, but isn't it better to provide children with a safe place for them to glean understanding and feel less alone? Children often experience these tough subjects in their everyday lives, and by censoring the books that explore them so eloquently, we are robbing them of feelings of connection and humanity. Children need to know that they are not alone in their experiences, especially when they are at such a critical age of development. While every book may not be right for every child, books such as this one are right for many children, and they deserve to be on our shelves so those children can discover them.

Loving, Losing, and Living

It's amazing to me that life still goes on after losing someone you love.  You spend your life loving them, looking up to them, relying on their voice to be on the other end of the phone, and then, just like that, they are gone. The world keeps spinning, regardless of your attempts to slow it down. Other people are unaware of the significance of a certain date, of the emotional punch it carries for you. Yet it happens - the sun rises on a new day, one that is missing a piece of the one before it, and somehow you keep going. You learn to look for meaning and find significance in things that give you hope.

May 6, 2013 is the last time my dad ever told me he loved me. When my sister went home to get some much needed rest, I was suddenly in charge of making one of the most critical decisions of my dad's life in a frantic rush to get him into emergency surgery. After weeks, months even, of trying to figure out why he was so sick, doctors knew they had to get inside for answers before his health got even worse. As I went with him to prep for the surgery that I had okayed, he and I both knew that there was a strong possibility he may not survive the surgery. I remember he - the man who was always terrified of being on an operating table - told me he was so tired and wanted to proceed.  I promised I would bring him a Coke as soon as he woke up, something I have remembered every single day for the past three years.

The next five days could be simultaneously described as both a whirlwind and as the longest days of my life.  Looking back, it seems like weeks passed between his surgery and the day that he actually left this world. In reality, it was just five short days, a culmination of months of suffering, as his body, unknown to anyone else - including his doctors - slowly poisoned itself from the inside.

Losing a parent is hard. Even when you can describe your relationship with that parent as tumultuous at times. As much as I always longed for it, my dad and I never had the ideal relationship.  He had his faults, I have mine, and we tended to butt heads on many occasions. People close to me have a hard time understanding why I still tried to be close to my dad, why I picked up the phone after the hurtful words he hurled at me that always left me in tears. They find it hard to believe that I can still shed tears because I  miss him.

Regardless of our problems, he was my dad.  There is no denying the bond between a parent and child. My dad was the one person I always wanted to make proud. While he could indeed be quite truculent at times, he also had a heart of gold.  He would have given the last thing he had to someone in need.  He was one of the most brilliant men I have ever known.  He may have had some strange ways of showing it, but, to quote Edgar Allan Poe, he loved my mom "with a love that was more than love."  He taught me the value of hard work, to always change my oil, and that birthdays and holidays are special occasions. I would be lying if I said I didn't learn some colorful language from him, and I'm sure I got a little bit of his temper too. Many times in my life, I felt like I'd never quite measure up to the kind of daughter he wanted, but deep down somehow I always knew he loved me - and that's what kept me constantly striving for that relationship with him that I always wanted.

It's ironic to me that I ended up alone with him on the morning of his surgery. Of my dad's three daughters, I may not have been the most preferred, but there I was.  He was so scared, but I also got the sense that he was at peace with the decision we made. I got to have a few quiet moments alone with him where we had some very important conversations, which made me feel like I had somehow been placed in that moment for a reason. If nothing else, he was able to see that despite all of the other baggage in our lives, I was beside him, and I really hope that made him proud and feel loved.

In the last few months of his life, my dad unknowingly presented my sisters and me with a gift that I wouldn't trade for anything in the world. His gift to us was that the three of us now have a bond that will never be severed. I have no idea how any one of us would have gotten through the months leading up to his passing without the other two.  Whether on the other end of the phone, in a text message, curled up in a hospital chair, we were beside each other every step of the way, and that is something for which I will be eternally grateful.

My dad had quite a sad childhood, which I think influenced many of the decisions he made in his life. I'm not sure that he always felt loved, so he sought love in different ways. When he took his last breaths on May 10, the three of us held his hands and filled that hospital room with an abundance of love.  I sure hope he felt it, as I know we did.

It's always amazing to me how books come into my life at just the right time.  Every time I read something, I can glean new meaning from it. When I was reading aloud the book Wonder by R.J. Palacio for probably the fifth time not long after my dad died, a passage jumped out at me.  Two of the characters in the book were discussing death, and one said,

"I think when people die, their souls go to heaven but just for a little while. Like that’s where they see their old friends and stuff, and kind of catch up on old times. But then I actually think the souls start thinking about their lives on earth, like if they were good or bad or whatever. And then they get born again as brand-new babies in the world."

Camden, my two-year-old daughter, was born on February 10, 2014 - nine months to the day after my dad died. I look at her sometimes and feel so incredibly blessed that she is even here. After a miscarriage and a year of failed attempts to get pregnant, suddenly there she was - after I had lost one of the most important people in my life.   She's smart, funny, sweet, and spunky. I like to think that she is all the good things that my dad always wanted to be in his lifetime. I know there were things in his life that he wished he had done differently. When I look at this little miracle of a child, I see his opportunity to get it right.  Somehow the magical timing of his death and her beginning of existence gives me a peace I never knew I needed.

There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of my dad. There are many days that I want to pick up the phone to tell him something about my day.  I don't think I will ever stop trying to make him proud.  Every May I will most likely relive the final days of my dad's life, but as the years pass, I am able to look back on that time and feel a sense of purpose.  His struggle was not for nothing. There was meaning behind everything that took place, and that, along with my memories, is what I will carry in my heart. Losing someone is never easy, but the meaning it has brought to my living is what gets me through.

The Power of Co-Teaching

A co-taught classroom can be one of the most powerful tools you have to truly reach all of your students. I was fortunate to work with the same co-teacher for seven years. Throughout that time, we learned each other's idiosyncrasies and personalities, and ended up becoming not only teaching partners, but wonderful friends. We reached a point in our co-teaching relationship where we could finish each other's sentences.

When I found out that my co-teacher was leaving the division, I was extremely nervous about starting all over. It was like a relationship had ended and I was back in the dating game. Luckily, my new co-teacher and I have a lot of similarities, and we have developed a strong partnership in the classroom in just three short months. This became even more evident to me yesterday.

Our inclusion class is challenging this year. We have a large class of students who have a plethora of needs. My co-teacher and I meet almost daily, despite the fact that she is also working with two other teachers as well. We problem-solve, research ideas, and try new strategies all the time.

When we received scores from our first benchmark, it became clear that we needed to do more. We were not reaching a handful of our students.

We have been trying to implement station teaching as much as possible, but stations are only effective when they are being done for the right reasons. Sometimes I think we make up things to do in stations for the sake of saying we are using stations. My co-teacher and I sat down and carefully planned our learning objectives and what would best suit our students. We talked, planned, researched, emailed, texted, changed our minds a few times, and then formulated a plan.

The result was probably one of the very best teaching moments of my (only ten-year) teaching career. Had someone walked into our classroom, they would have seen all students engaged, learning, and working on their individual levels.

We had a carefully planned schedule for each student. Each student visited three stations for 20 minutes during the class period. In the independent reading station, students read self-chosen books on their independent reading levels. This is an everyday occurrence in our class, but they were doing it in a smaller group instead of everyone at once. In another station, my co-teacher taught a mini-lesson on summarizing and then guided the students as they practiced the strategy. In a third station, students completed word work and studied vocabulary words using interactive materials on the iPads. Finally, I met with a group at the guided reading station, where students read a story and we worked on retelling while reteaching story elements.

At the end of the period, we could not have been happier.  Our normally rambunctious class had been quietly engaged for the entire time - reading, writing, and learning. We were able to work with struggling learners on a more individualized basis. I heard students read and measured their comprehension through the conversations we had about a text. We were able to deliver immediate strategy instruction, which we hope can only benefit our students.

It is difficult to describe just how great it felt to feel like we finally accomplished what we have been working so hard to figure out. But I think we have finally taken the first steps to creating a classroom structure that will benefit every student and allow them to grow as readers and writers with the right support. In addition, we used one of the most important tools we have - the power of two.

#FlyHighFriday

My colleague and friend, Justin Birckbichler (@Mr_B_Teacher on Twitter), is encouraging teachers on Twitter to tweet their #FlyHighFriday moments of the week to celebrate the positives in their schools and classrooms.  It was during a read aloud the other day that I discovered my #FlyHighFriday moments.  From that point, I started noticing many of the same instances throughout my week.

As I began reading Rain Reign to my students, I looked up to see two girls scrunched together in their desks whispering.  I paused in the  middle of the sentence I was reading and took a breath to say something to them when I had a realization. I saw that they were not just whispering the dramatic happenings of typical sixth graders, but they were actually discussing a book. They weren't talking about the book that we were reading together; their conversations were spilling over from their independent reading time. One of the girls was holding a book and showing the other one an exciting part that she had reached in her daily reading. These two students are self-professed non-readers. They don't like reading, and they are not afraid to let me know that - sometimes on a daily basis. To see them smiling and sharing a book almost made my week.

Then, during a transition from one activity to the next, I looked up to see another student with her nose buried in a book.  She glanced up and caught me looking at her, to which she responded, "I'm sorry, I just really like this book.  I can't stop reading it."  This is the same student who told me on the first day of school that she does not like to read and spent the first two weeks of school avoiding independent reading at all costs.  Since that day, she has not only finished the book that she was so engrossed in, but has also recommended it to several of her classmates and has found other similar books that she cannot seem to put down.

After these two incidents in one class, I realized that I needed to pay closer attention to how my students are growing.  I started the year with quite a challenge before me.  For the first time, I had students that were just flat-out refusing to read.  They told me that they did not enjoy it, and most of them seemed pretty stubborn when I tried to convince them that I was going to change their minds.  I am slowly starting to see progress, and nothing could please me more.

Just yesterday I looked up during independent reading time to see one of my most stubborn students completely absorbed in his book.  After switching books every other day for the past five weeks and not making much progress in any of them, I gave him A Child Called It at the beginning of the week. Of course, I explained that it was a book that I only let my most mature readers read. I explained the first two chapters, and then sent him off with it.  I told him to trust me.  I stopped by his desk yesterday to ask how it was going, and he said, with a huge grin, "It's actually really good."  I even made him repeat that statement.  He kept smiling and quietly went back to reading.

Students are starting to recommend books to each other.  They stop me in the hallways to tell me how far they got in their book at home or to tell me what book they just started.  Two students even checked out the same book this morning so they could sit together and read and have something to discuss.

Their excitement is starting to build, and I can see reading becoming a habit right in front of me.  To experience this transformation is what propels me out of bed each morning to share my day with impressionable tweens that have their whole lives ahead of them - as readers.  For me, nothing could make me fly higher on a Friday than that.

Here We Go Again

Here I am again, in the same place I was two years ago when I started this blog.  Yearning to write, trying to find the time to get my words on paper (or screen), yet falling short.  I vowed to start writing every day.  Somehow, though, life got in the way.  It could be my full-time job, coaching, a new baby, balancing being a mom of two, all the books that I want to read...  I am sure I could go on and on with excuses, but the reality is, I just need to sit down and do it.


After returning from winter break on Monday, I had my students write reading resolutions.  I have never been one to make New Year's resolutions, and I typically think they are ridiculous.  However, creating reading resolutions seemed like fun to me.  Probably because I am so completely head-over-heels in love with books.  Some might like to call it an obsession.  As I explained to my students, books are starting to take over my house.  I could probably start using them as furniture. 


We talked about resolutions being like long-term goals.  I like having goals, as they give me something to work toward.  One of my reading resolutions was to start working through some of the books I have at home so I can begin the process of de-cluttering my house (though are books really clutter?  I think not.).  I came up with four reading goals, all of which I shared with my students.  Then I started thinking.  Since I have created these goals for my reading, I should give myself a goal for writing.


Writing is something I love.  It is something I always say I need to do more.  It is always the first thing I cut out of my day when I get busy.  So here we go again.


So many exciting, monumental things happened in 2014 - all of which occurred without me documenting them.  Inspiring, wonderful things happen every day in my classroom.  Things that I could reflect on and use to help me grow as a teacher and a person.  There are many books that I read that I want to share with the world.  What better way to do it than through writing?


That being said, I am going to write.


No time limit.  No number of days per week.  I simply need to do it. 


That is my goal.  This time I will achieve it.  I will.

Zac & Mia by A.J. Betts

 This is a story of an unlikely friendship.  While in the hospital after a bone marrow transplant, Zac hears the angst of his next door neighbor.  Beginning with a knock on the wall, Zac reaches out to Mia.  She doesn't want anyone's help and keeps her sickness a secret even from her closest friends.

After leaving the hospital, Zac finds his thoughts drifting back to Mia.  Then one day she appears - broken, lost, and looking for money to run away.  With a newly amputated leg, all Mia wants to do is escape.  Slowly Zac helps her find the things in life that are worth fighting for.

At the beginning of the book, I thought it was very similar to The Fault in Our Stars.  However, the similarities started to fade, and Zac and Mia took on a life of its own.  The Fault in Our Stars is probably one of my all-time favorite books, but I thought Zac & Mia's characters were more believable.  This novel is a story of friendship and how sometimes all you need is a little hope to get you through the toughest of days.  What could be a romantic component is not capitalized upon, and it makes the book work.  It is instead about two people who form a bond over a shared hurt, understanding how much one's life is altered by a disease as devastating as cancer.  It is through this bond that each is able to grasp onto hope that propels them through another day.

I will definitely be recommending this book to my students who loved The Fault in Our Stars and Eleanor & Park. 

The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry by Gabrielle Zevin





"Sometimes books don't find us until the right time."

I hope everyone finds this sweet story.  It is the story of how the power of books can bring people together as well as the way in which love can be found in the most unlikely packages.

A.J. Fikry is a bookstore owner who has become lonely and crotchety since his beloved wife died.  Just when he is losing his passion for the life that once excited him, an unexpected package arrives in his store and completely transforms his life.  Suddenly, his cold, hardened heart begins to open to the possibility of love and friendship.  People in his small town notice the change, and they are soon affected by it too.

Each chapter is prefaced with a description of a short story that Fikry is leaving to his daughter. It is definitely a book for book lovers.  Books are referenced throughout the novel, and one walks away with a deeper appreciation for books after reading this magical tale of loss, love, and hope.

Laughing at My Nightmare by Shane Burcaw

Shane Burcaw uses humor and candid realism to discuss what it is like to live with spinal muscular atrophy.  As a 21-year-old who has spent his entire life in a wheelchair, Burcaw tells stories from his childhood, teens, and young adult years that give readers a glimpse of what it would be like to live with a life-threatening, debilitating disease.  While it could be a story riddled with self-pity, Burcaw instead discusses topics such as using the bathroom, having a girlfriend, and going to school with such a humorous voice that readers can't help smiling.

Burcaw's voice as he recounts incidents in his life is similar to that of Jon Sciezka in Knucklehead.  It is with the same wit that he is able to communicate the ups, downs, and everything in between associated with his disease.  Startlingly real and incredibly honest, Laughing at My Nightmare will have readers smiling the whole way through.

While this book is too mature for my sixth graders, I would not hesitate to recommend it to high school readers or more mature readers with a parent's permission.  The message in the book is too important for students to miss out on.

I'll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson

 

Very rarely do I finish a book and want to open it right back up and start again.  This was exactly how I felt upon the completion of I'll Give You the Sun. I wanted to dive right back into the pages so I could experience its beauty all over again.

 

Reading I'll Give You the Sun is like eating the most decadent piece of chocolate - you want to savor every morsel and never want it to end.  The language Nelson uses is lyrical.  I found myself frequently rereading sentences just so I could relish the way the words went together to create this beautiful piece of art. Because of the language Nelson used, I could feel every emotion the characters were feeling.

 

Within the story, there was an abundance of emotion.  It is the story of close twins Noah and Jude, told in alternating perspectives.  Noah's story takes place around when he's 13, and Jude's story picks up three years later, after an accident that has impacted their lives and left them not speaking to one another.  Noah is navigating his way through his teens with a secret of falling in love with the boy next door.  Jude has been accepted to an art school, where she is haunted by the ghosts of her mother and grandmother.  She realizes that she can make her dead mother proud if she can just create one piece of art for her.  This project leads her to her soul mate as well as a famous sculptor who becomes an influential mentor.  Jude and Noah discover and uncover secrets about themselves and their mother that shape the way they see the world.  As they tell their sides of the story, it is clear that each only has half.  It is not until they come together again that they can put the pieces together, where everything comes full circle and secrets are revealed.

 

This novel is surprising, breath-taking, and full of hope.  The passion on the pages will stay with readers long after the final word is read.  The characters and story are ones that will not easily be forgotten.

We Are the Goldens by Dana Reinhardt

I am a fan of Dana Reinhardt.  When I found out that she had a new book being published, I was very anxious to read it.  This book did not disappoint.

It seems as though I've been reading a lot of books lately with a theme of sisters.  So many have focused on the bonds between sisters and how they navigate their way through life with - or without - each other.  We Are the Goldens fit into this category.  

Nell has always looked up to her older sister Layla.  They've been close their whole lives; in fact, so close that Nell actually thought her name was Nellayla.  When Nell starts going to City Day, the same high school Layla already attends, Nell thinks it will be the time of her life.  She and Layla will be able to do everything together.

Layla begins to withdraw.  Nell can feel the divide between them growing, and she is sure that Layla is keeping a secret.  When she finds out the sheer magnitude of what it is, she is faced with quite an enormous decision.  Should she stay loyal to her sister, her other half, or should she tell someone and face losing her sister forever?  She sees how the secrets could ruin Layla's life, but she also knows that her life without her sister would be empty.

We Are The Goldens reminded me of Anatomy of Wings.  In both, the sister has a secret and begins acting strange, while the younger sister sits back and watches the demise.  While they had different issues and endings, both books discussed the power of sisterhood and how one decision can change a life.

The Here and Now by Ann Brashares

While I anxiously awaited its publication, I was a little disappointed by this book.  I wanted to find out what happened, but I felt as though some of the plot was underdeveloped.  Parts toward the end even felt rushed.

Prenna and her mother belong to a group of people that come from the future.  They come from a time when a plague and environmental destruction have devastated the earth.  When they arrive in present day, Ethan sees Prenna and instantly falls in love.  However, Prenna is forbidden from forming a relationship with anyone as part of a set of rules set forth by her community. 

Prenna finds out that she is supposed to help reverse an event that is going to occur on May 17, 2014. She and Ethan set out to change the outcome so they can save society.  They go against the rules set forth by Prenna's people.

The end of the book felt rushed, as it could have been developed to a greater degree.  It left me wanting to know more - parts that I thought should have been discussed more.  That being said, it was interesting to read and try to wrap my mind around time travel.

To All the Boys I've Loved Before by Jenny Han

There are so many great things about this book.  It is a story about the bond between sisters, the importance of family, and the pain - and joy - of being in love.

Lara Jean writes a letter to every boy she has ever loved.  She puts her feelings on paper, addresses the envelope, and then never mails the letter.  One day after her oldest sister Margot leaves to go to school in Scotland, Lara Jean's letters somehow get mailed.  Suddenly Lara Jean has a lot more to worry about than what she's going to make for dinner.

While navigating her way through life without her sister, who always took care of things after their mother died, Lara Jean now has to figure out her love life as well.

This book is so much more than the typical chick lit. It explores the relationships between three sisters who have formed a stronger bond since their mother died.  It touches on the Korean heritage their mother left behind.  It also centers on what it's like to be a teenager figuring out feelings that don't always make sense, especially when those feelings result in love.

We Were Liars by E. Lockhart

I have heard a lot of buzz about this book, and I could not wait to get my hands on a copy. I read one review that said it was better to go into it blindly without knowing too much, so I refrained from reading any more reviews.  I'm so glad I did.

 

Because of that, I will not give away much in my review, because it is the type of book that you really do just have to read without any preconceived expectations. Just know that the book you are about to read will BLOW. YOUR. MIND.

 

We Were Liars takes place on an island, where the prestigious Sinclair family goes every summer.  The cousins look forward to seeing each other every year, as they are the best of friends bound by blood.  Then something happens during their 15th summer that leaves Cadence yearning for answers.  She feels like her whole family is keeping something from her, so she begins trying to put the missing pieces of her puzzle together.  The island is filled with secrets, lies, familial ties, love, and bonds that cannot be broken.

As I was reading this book, I couldn't understand at first what all the hype was about.  I was enjoying it, but it wasn't the "amazing" read I had been expecting.  Then I read further.  All of a sudden, the plot moved along at break-neck speed, and I couldn't put it down.  I had to find out what happened.  E. Lockhart does a wonderful job of building suspense, foreshadowing events to come, and then completely shocking readers with the outcome.  I was blindsided by the final pages.  Usually, I am good at collecting clues and figuring out the endings, but this ending is one that I never saw coming.  I loved it!

At the beginning of the ARC of We Were Liars, the publisher wrote a note saying that it was a book that you would want to discuss with others that had also read it.  A truer statement could not have been made.  I cannot wait for my students and my friends to devour this book the way that I did so we can talk about it.  There is so much to be said, yet mentioning any of it before someone has read the book would ruin it.  I will be buying several copies of this masterpiece for my classroom and book-talking it every chance I get.

The Summer of Letting Go by Gae Polisner

Four years ago, Frankie's little brother Simon drowned while she was supposed to be watching him.  Her mother barely speaks to her, and Frankie blames herself for Simon's death.  Now it is summer.  Frankie's best friend Lisette is preoccupied with her boyfriend, who Frankie secretly longs to kiss.  Frankie is feeling left out and finds herself with plenty of time to miss Simon. 

One day while following her neighbor to the country club because of a hunch she has, Frankie meets four-year-old Frankie Sky who steps in and turns her world upside down.  Frankie Sky seems to have a striking resemblance to Simon, and he seems to know more about Simon than Frankie ever thought possible.  She lands a summer job as a mother's helper to Frankie's mom.  The more she is around the little boy and the more coincidences that pile up, the more Frankie becomes convinced that he is some how a reincarnation of her little brother.

This book is about loss, family, friendship, and the power of hope.  In the midst of a tragedy that changed her world forever, sixteen-year-old Frankie is able to find something to believe in.  She starts to think that some things are just bigger than she is.  This summer, she is finally able to start letting go.

Readers will be able to identify with the believable characters in this exceptional realistic fiction book.  There is sadness that abounds with the loss that resonates throughout the book, but there is also a strong feeling of hope.  Frankie's change throughout the story is so profound, readers will be cheering for her at the end.  Reading The Summer of Letting Go will make readers think about the power of relationships, and how one person can change your perspective - and your life.

I will be highly recommending this book to my students immediately.  I already have readers in mind that I know will devour it.

The Running Community

After the bombings yesterday in Boston, I read an article with an interesting headline:  "If you are losing faith in human nature, go out and watch a marathon."  Well said, Ezra Klein (article found here).  That simple sentence says multitudes about the sport of running and the people that toe the starting line time after time.

If you have ever been a part of a big race, you will understand the quote above.  In the midst of a marathon, you see all types of people - young, old, big, little - all moving toward the same goal.  The air at the beginning of a marathon is electric.  Excitement and nerves run through the bodies of the runners.  Runners have worked for months, some even years, to get to the starting line of the marathon, whether their first or fiftieth.  Along the route, you see people helping each other, cheering each other on, as they move their legs toward the finish.  Every racer knows and understands the pain on every runner's face, knows exactly how their legs are feeling at mile 21.  It is a shared camaraderie.  Strangers unite in their common effort to do what they have dreamed of doing, to push their bodies just a little bit further than they thought possible.

Aside from the runners, the spectators and hundreds of volunteers are another example of the good that is still left in the world.  No race can be accomplished without them.  These people get up before the sun to support and help organize the giant feat that their friends and loved ones have set out to accomplish.  They cheer, they hand out food and water, they pick up trash, they give words of encouragement when they are needed the most. They are working because they understand the desires of their loved ones. They want to give back to the sport that consumes the lives of so many.  Do they get anything for doing this?  No - it is done from the goodness in their hearts.  If you are ever at a big race, look around and see just how many people have those good hearts.  It is overwhelming.

Runners are a different breed.  They are goal-setters, thrill-seekers, comfortable with being alone.  They constantly push their bodies to the limits to see just how strong they are.  They get up early, stay up late, rearrange their schedules, miss weekend mornings with their families just to run.  Running is a lifestyle, a life-changer.  When runners line up on a starting line, they are surrounded by many like-minded people who share their passion.  They don't have to explain it; they understand it.  As they log miles, they know that everyone around them is logging the miles for the same purpose - to fulfill the desire in their hearts and the need in their muscles.

It is sad that such a senseless tragedy as the one that occurred yesterday can change the face of the racing world within minutes.  Runners that make it to Boston are people that have spent their lifetimes working toward reaching this ultimate running dream.  They have trained hard to get to the race.  Boston is not like your local 5K.  It is similar to the Superbowl or the World Series in the running field.  Unfortunately, many runners' dreams were cut short yesterday, and even more unfortunately, people will start to view running events differently.  The bomber(s) took something away from running yesterday.

Fortunately, runners ARE a different breed.  Runners will continue to run no matter what adversity comes their way.  Runners tend to band together.  The running community is strong, and it will stay strong.  Whether you run a 10-minute mile or a 5-minute mile, when you lace up your shoes to go for a run, you are a runner.  Runners understand each other because they all carry the same passion in their hearts for a sport that gives back what they are willing to put in. 

Running clears heads, strengthens bodies, opens minds, and forms friendships.  Racing events are not something to be feared, despite the devastating events that took place in Boston.  If anything, racing events should be embraced, because it is in them that you will find the strength of the human spirit.  They are the one place you will see strangers coming together, providing words of encouragement, supporting each other when their will is crumbling. They are the one place you will see hundreds of people giving up their time to make sure runners are safe, supported, and well fueled.  The running community is unique.  It is strong, it is large, and everyone is welcome.  Nothing will change that.

Making Time

I have decided it is time to start practicing what I preach.  I tell my students all the time that the only way to get better at something is to practice, practice, practice.  When they complain about not liking to read, I often stress to them that once they start reading on a regular basis, it will become a habit in their lives; they will feel empty when they don't.  They look at me with disbelieving eyes, but eventually they come back to tell me that I was right.  I love those moments!

As a child and a teenager, I wrote all the time.  In elementary school, I wrote stories - pages and pages of notebook paper filled with the imaginings of my mind.  My teachers always encouraged me to keep writing, and some even had my stories spiral-bound into "books" that I could keep forever.  In middle and high school, I moved to poetry and journal writing.  My high school creative writing and English teacher became my inspiration.  She wrote poetry and frequently shared it with us.  She also kept the most creative journals - she decorated the outside covers, glued pictures, quotes, and inspirational words throughout the pages.  She was my role model.  She was everything I wanted to be - creative, inspiring, a teacher, an author, and a mentor.  I thrived in her classroom, keeping journals, writing poetry, and finding my inner voice. 

After high school, I lost touch with the teacher that had inspired me to find my writing voice.  It was up to me to do it on my own.  I sporadically kept journals throughout college and into my post-college life, but writing became less of a habit for me.  My entire life, I had used writing as a way to vent my frustrations and explore my emotions.  But as my life got busier with work, a family, and other obligations, that outlet slowly started slipping away.

Now, I find myself longing for my writing life.  In stores, I am always drawn to the journals.  I buy a new journal at least once or twice a year, thinking the beautiful cover will inspire me to continue my old habit. My desire is so strong, but I never seem to make the time for writing. 

I read book after book, devouring and falling in love with words.  In fact, my ultimate goal is to one day write a book of my own, hoping to inspire someone the way that so many books have inspired me.  But, like I tell my students, I won't get there if I don't make time to practice.  Even if I just sit down for ten minutes a day in between teaching, parenting, reading, running, coaching, and housekeeping (whew!), I will be closer to my goal than I am now.

I had a conversation with a writer last night that has motivated me.  She used to be a teacher, but quit her job to become a full-time writer.  After talking to her, I realized that that is the life I want.  She is living my dream.  But I am the only one holding myself back.

So this is my vow.  I am putting it in writing so I can stick to it.  Ten mintues a day. Journal or blog.  Just as long as my thoughts start flowing and my words start accumulating.  I'm on my way.