Sunrise over the Admin Bldg

So now I can prove that I was up with the sun. Once.
Was on my way to a meeting with my supervisor to begin the process of my annual review. Our district has adopted something called the Danielson Model for teacher assessments, which is incredibly cumbersome and time consuming for all. However, it may have it’s good points in that it forces people otherwise not inclined to reflect in depth on their teaching to do so. The fact that it takes probably 25 unpaid hours of my time is not such a great recommendation. The process goes something like this: initially you flesh out a lengthy (read epic) outline divided into 3 categories: A) what kind of team player are you? How are you contributing to the school district, community, your team as a whole? What leadership roles, outside of teaching are you taking on to support your profession (I thought sleeping and having a personal life should count—it doesn’t) B) how are you measuring your classroom student growth as a whole? What classroom expectations do you have for the class as a whole, how do you know students are attaining those goals, what are you doing to remediate difficulties any students experience? Part C) choose 3 students, target a specific goal for each and demonstrate how you are measuring progress towards mastery for each of them, documenting all steps of instruction and any steps taken to overcome encountered obstacles. Documentation, evidence both anecdotal and concrete must be presented as well as parent reflection upon my skills, changes seen at home as a result? So this was an early morning meeting prior to my formal observation (tomorrow morning) to discuss key points that I wish my supervisor to look for in my teaching practice that his feedback might prove to be especially beneficial and illuminating for me. During tomorrow’s observation he will take photos and write down verbatim the things that I say so we can (kill me now) discuss them at the post observation meeting and I can explain the why I felt X might be a superior strategy over Y, and then--this is my most favorite part— I get to walk away with this list and self critique each of my recorded statements by noting where (in my by now shaken opinion), I feel my performance falls on the Danielson Model Scale: basic, proficient or distinguished. Then we meet again to go over that! Oh joy!

I am explaining this because I have been hyper aware that my blips are memoirs. Very few are of daily current events so it seems I have no life! I can’t really blip about my students as confidentiality prevails. Each of them is a short package of mystery and I do find myself musing about them at stoplights or at the grocery because I’m always keen to figuring out new ways to open them to the world around them. So I don’t blip my job much.

And I don’t blip Lewis, though I utterly adore him but being all black fur he’s not easily photogenic and I am no photographer so he always comes out like black odd shaped blob with a whirly gig tailed rear end running up the road away from me or a narrow headed black odd shaped blob running towards me grinning insanely. Neither photo would make anyone love him as he’s only the best dog in the world if you know him, but will never win Awwwwww of the year from my pics. So I don’t blip Lewis even though he is the best friend ever, so gentle and so funny and so kind. He has a gift in knowing how he should tailor his behavior to the guest that leads others to love him as easily as I do. He simply lives to be petted, eat and carry my clothing into the living room when I am away.

So I blip about dad often, whom I had breakfast with this morning. He made omelets with a touch of mango and ginger cheddar cheese melted inside, hash browns, toast, croissants, bacon and orange juice. And coffee. I went over to help him sort through photos and pictures and slides as he prepares for his move. He was explaining to me the difference between a reach, a run and a following wind and recalled the time he was almost broadsided by a tanker. He was enjoying a following wind, sailing solo from Point Hudson through to Admiralty Inlet at night with the radio on as he was watching the sky for Sputnik to appear when he heard a rumble. He looked over and saw what he described as “the island of Manhattan” bearing down on him, lights ablaze at each porthole as it came enormously onward.

We also came across an aerial photo of the citadel in Lille where my grandfather, who was a pilot in the RAF, had been imprisoned during WWI but that’s a memoir for another day, should you ever wish to hear it.

I must get to my lesson plans for this week—and I must make an effort to blip current events and topics of interest as you all do! To blip my real world instead of the past! Until then, happy week to you all. I am very sorry to be low on commenting on your expressive photos and journal entries. Please know that I believe you to be the finest group of individuals to be found anywhere on the planet and I am not exaggerating when I say that.