Successfully Created My 2nd StoryMap: Doodling a Way Forward - Prompts for the Trails Ahead...all for@WeirFarmNPS @WriteOutConnect @writingproject @CWPFairfield @FairfieldCAS

 Ladies and Gentleman...It's journey time. StoryMaps...this year for the 2022 #WriteOut Weir Farm National Historical Park: Reading Landscapes and Writing Nature. This year, we are STEAMing ahead and doodling (with inspiration from Karen Romano Young, Ben Okra, Rachel Ignotofsky, and Pam Muńoz Ryan).

Since most of my writing for today is on that site, I will leave this location rather simplistic (the complexity is in the beauty of making a StoryMap). If you wish, there are writing prompts for you at the end of each page. Enjoy.

In Week 4, Time to Refocus on the Intent of the Course, Braiding New Ideas with What Has Happened Thus Far...Welcoming the Darker Months

I seriously can't sing enough praises about Sonya Huber's book, Voice First. It's simply phenomenal and written exactly how my minds words....I needed it and I now can teach it. Tonight, we brainstormed (Bryan-stormed) some of the untapped voices we have, and then did an exercise of developing additional passages for the personal pieces we wrote (braiding in the new voices).

I arrived with Fall glasses for everyone, making a note that "Joy is always a top priority," and that sometimes we need to pause and really take a look at what we're trying to accomplish in the course. Lucky for me, I'm the master of finding cheap props to help me accomplish my goals. 

The temperatures changed. It was warm in the sun, but when it went under, it grew cold. Walking out to my car I immediately felt a cold coming on (they're going around). Of course, I also got my flu shot yesterday. 

This was my post-shot Zoolander pose. 

I also captured some of my graduate students in their frames. I love it because they all wore them throughout the night, focusing on reading, workshopping, and thoughts of revision...all to support the art of teaching as a writer. "We're not after product here...we're after process." 

This morning, I'm going full force for Day 1 of the Reading Landscapes, Writing Nature online orientation, as we will meet all the new educators tonight. I'm sure we'll be an exhausted bunch, but that is par for the course.

Why wouldn't a teacher be exhausted? 

Okay. Time to get to work. 

The Fire Ants-Analogy is Accurate, but I Definitely Wouldn't Want It There. I Know We're 4-Weeks in Because the Psoriasis is on Fire Again

My legs have become a human barometer for stress. During the summer months, the most hectic time of the year, my legs clear up and are fine. Most of this is because I'm the Captain of the ship, love the work I get to do, and feel the benefits of working with K-12 teachers and youth in my bones. It's good work and it is rewarding. As soon as we return to the 'normally-scheduled program' of the academic year, however, I can't control the frustration, and it bursts out of me all over my skin.

I tell my dermatologist, "My nature is to be calm, and I try my best to be level-headed, but my body reacts in the best way it knows how." It's defense mechanism is break out in psoriasis, which I inherited from the Ripley side of the family.

I used to have eczema and that was horrible, especially during puberty. But suddenly it disappeared. I didn't have my first outburst of psoriasis, however, until my mid-40s. So weird.

And it does feel like my legs are on fire...like fire ants are biting and burrowing into my skin.

I did an online search for ways to make them subside, and reading about them on the bottom of feet, in scalps, and within ass cracks, did me in. I can't imagine....the spots on my legs are horrific enough. 

Last night while teaching I was thinking that they might burn a hole through my pants...they were that hot. When I got home and put on a pair of shorts and I couldn't believe how red they all were - a glowing of lava. And I know what triggered it all. 

I actually relaxed this weekend, attended a beautiful wedding, wrote for my personal projects in my cabin, and enjoyed nature, life, friends, and my son. 

Returning back to the University life, the emails came, the office was visited, the phone calls and the text arrived, and suddenly I was like, "This is NOT a healthy work environment." 

But it is what it is. I will survive. But I've always been a quest for joy and integrity. You'd think it would be easier to find.

Ah, my legs are on fire. It's caused by stress. It could be worse. I will visit my dermatologist very, very soon. And this morning? I'm going for a walk to think. 

One of My Favorite Poems Ever Submitted to Me by a Student. It Was of Her Then-Boyfriend, Spence. I Always Think About This Piece When Teaching Graphic Novels

Is is Friday yet? I'm realizing the weekend getaway was actually a weekend distraction and I've been working like a madman to catch up for the week. My brain is good for only so long before it becomes mud. After 14 hours last night, it was a mudslide.

Anyway, this week's theme focuses on graphic novels and I allowed each of my students to choose one they wanted to read. Only one of the seven read such work fiendishly, the others have always been scared by it. Again, I'm looking forward to the conversations that result, as I continue to teach the course as collaborative discovery rather than authoritative doctrine.

I remember getting this poem submitted to the State of Kentucky portfolio assessment and thinking, "I wonder how well this will do." The art around the heart is questioning, as the t-shirt is 100% words and mathematical problems to depict her high school sweetheart. It was stunning, perfect, distinguishable, but totally non-conforming from the training guides the state gave (that was and is Brown...the reason I adored that space). 

My instinct was to have everyone read Jerry Craft, but then I realized we are stronger to all read different pieces and to bring the conversation together collectively. If suddenly everyone is inspired to read seven additional books then I know that this is a win/win for the course. 

My thinking is that today's generation communicates visually in ways that turn cave drawings into movies, and thought-processes into posters. Because we've become digital, fast-paced, and more witty with our daily narratives, I believe graphic novels are perfect ensembles for story-telling. They take forever to creative, and I always challenge my literate folk who are text-abundant to think what life would be like if they were to draw their responses rather than develop long prose with citations. It's a different mode to communicate (and word-heavy people would likely falter, but those who can communicate visually often bloom). 

That's the point. I imagine we'll always have text-oriented narratives, but with phones, Tik-Tok, YouTube, memes, etc...I can't help but think our crafts have developed additional talents that would otherwise be excluded. 

This is all to say, I can't wait to see what they bring. I also can't wait for this event in New Haven next month. Spread the word. 

Oh, I Figured I'd Find an Re-enactment of the Bobsled/Cliffside Coaster in Lake Placid, and Wola! I Found It, Indeed.

Tunga treated me to a ride in Lake Placid, when it was 40 degrees, the day before the wedding. It was a riot. The climb up was thrilling and when it let go, I was full speed downhill and I have to laugh to know that we peaked at 27 m.p.h. when the real bobsled course maneuvered around 78 m.p.h. I can't imagine flying through the mountains any faster.

We left Saranac around 10:15 a.m. then headed northeast to take a ferry across Lake Champlain to visit Burlington, although it was short lived. 

The traffic was, well, northeast traffic, and we didn't get to Stamford until 6:15. That made for an 8-hour day in the car, and I drove the entire time. I was exhausted.

Still, I am stimulated and exhilarated by the ride I had on Mt. Van Hoevenberg, knowing that the 1980s Olympics that were the first I really got into as a child, was really up the road and I had the opportunity to visit. 

I can't recommend this trip enough. It's a gorgeous location (stunning actually) and so clean, fresh, beautiful, and promising. 

Go, Adirondacks! Go. I'm sold. I'm already strategically looking for way to bring National Writing Project work that way. I passed all those schools. Why wouldn't they want to host us?!

And no! These aren't my feet, but I did do this! Your turn!

Can't Do The Wedding of Rhiannon to Eric Any Justice...Too Beautiful for Words. Mt. Pisgah. The Light. The Sky. The Ceremony. Gorgeous

I suppose I knew the wedding was going to be stunning. We climbed up a hill to see the valley below and that is where they married. Both Chitunga and I said it, "the landscape didn't seem real. It was like there was a painting behind the entire day. It was simply gorgeous. 

We were atop a hill and this was the backdrop. Two families united and a stunning ceremony, followed by a phenomenal reception.

I knew Rhiannon would be gorgeous and she was. Eric is an extremely lucky dude, and their outdoor life in the Adirondacks is perfect for them both. They are a match of land and water, and share outdoor sports as their bonding point - they truly are a perfect match. 

I was a little more emotional than I usually am at weddings and I admitted it to Mr. and Mrs. Berry, "I feel like I helped raise Rhiannon." She has always been special to me and the boys and she's a part of the life we've known for many years. She is also one of the first people I met post Brown School and she simply understood that world and remain intrigued. She would definitely be on the pond if she lived there. Shoot. She and Eric both are (and they have creeks, rivers, lakes, and mountains, too)

The reception was phenomenal...so much dancing, and the night worked into the late hours. 

Congratulations Eric and Rhiannon Adsit. I'm so happy for you both and I can't imagine it's possible to have a more beautiful celebration. What a stunning day. 

Matt Tullis. A Great Man, a Phenomenal Educator, a Champion for Possibilities, a Friend to CWP & Run for Refugees, & A Mentor to Youth. This One Hits Hard

It seems I was just walking across campus with Matt, discussing his semester, the book he was working on from his successful sports podcasts, and about how much we appreciated him helping out our Young Adult Literacy Labs once again. This year, he worked with 38 Ubuntu youth, sharing Fairfield University's new studio, the tools, and his expertise, including the recordings of two special podcasts written by our older students: one on immigrating to the United States and the other about video gaming and sports. This is a man who was willing to give up two full days of his summer to assist with the vision. 

I have vivid memories of being on his hiring committee, and employing Matt to teach for our Sports Writing Lab with William King. His recording talents changed what we knew was possible for our writers. In fact, we have several years of sports radio now because he guided the kids with his expertise. He was always willing to do workshops with teachers, too, and often presented at Writing Our Lives events.

Matt and I bonded over aging and running, too, and the inspiration he gave many of us not only with his memoir Running with Ghosts, but his daily posts about sweating a few more miles. He was focused, passionate, and competitive with setting personal bests. His motivation was motivation to the rest of us, and we'll miss him this year at Run for Refugees and the Vicki Soto 5K.

Matt was a cancer survivor, a phenomenal father (dedicated always to his kids), and devoted husband...every year I'd hear more about how, one of these days, I needed to meet his wife. I'm so sorry for all in his family and am a little bit in shock that he passed yesterday after complications from surgery. We were just texting one another. You got this. He had this, and he even posted his Wordle achievement  post surgery. He wrote all went well.

This is why a note from Kris Sealey while hiking in Lake Placid hit me in the heart. Matt passed?

It's a lot to think about...his enthusiasm, his joy for life, his devotion and his dedication. The every day zest that surrounded him, however, will be missed the most. 

Too young...Matt...way too young. Much more parenting still to do....more writing and much more joy from teaching. This is a tremendous loss to Fairfield University and the communities that adored him.

He has always been an inspiration.

After FDR Showed Us Around We Carried On to Saranac Lake, Ate at Bitters & Bones, Then Checked Into Our Cabin...High Today 45 Degrees. Yikes

Any morning that begins with the dentist usually doesn't end well. For all of those people wondering about tuition loan forgiveness, I'd really like dental-work forgiveness. My mouth is worth more than I am. 

Tunga navigated our way north, so we stopped outside of Poughkeepsie to visit with FDR & Elanor, his childhood home, and the privileges (a National Park) and then we headed to Albany and straight north. I got worried at one point because we were getting close to empty and there were no gas stations. Finally, we rolled into a town with a Stewarts and I was like, Phew! That would have been an adventure I wouldn't want. Can you imagine being in the middle of the mountains and running out of gas on back roads?

We made it to Lake Placid, then Saranac Lake, before finding our cabin home, and a place open past 9 p.m. for dinner. Crazy. Bitters and Bones was the local young' un scenes and like most bar crowds, it was bopping. The food was really good, and I got falafel, which I am pretty sure they served with wasabi. It was spicy. It's been a while since I've inhabited a young bar scene. Drunk dudes are a breed of their own, especially in their 20s.

Today, I'm not sure what we'll do, except sit by the heaters in winter coats. The space is really beautiful, and I'm sure we'll explore the area some more. I'd like to check out more of lake Placid, especially in day light. We're at the end of a dirt road, but I was impressed to see it was more residential than the drive in, which made it seem like absolutely no one lives in the area. Of course it was dark, beginning to rain, and foggy, so we couldn't see much. 

The cabin has three rooms, four beds, a living room, kitchen, and bathroom. The best feature, I imagine is the wrap-around porch, but I'm not going out there without ski boots. It's freezing, even if they have lights hanging up. 

It was only brief, but I can very easily see why this is an attraction for multiple people as it is stunning up here, especially with the changing leaves, mountains, and lakes. I'm looking forward to seeing more of where we are in the daylight, and this morning, taking comfort in the fact that there is coffee and I brought apple cider donuts to start the day.

Dang...those apple cider donuts (heated for 25 seconds in the microwave). Phew!

And That Made For a Long Day. 1st School. 8 a.m.. First Campus Responsibility 11 a.m.. Panel 7 p.m.. And Class Ended 9:15 p.m. Home by 10 p.m.

When teachers who are taking graduate courses, or professors who work in K-12 schools name the fact that they are exhausted, there's a reason. 14-hour days are not sustainable, but that is what we expect and have normalized for our teachers and our teacher educators. Wake up....work all day. Go to bed. Weekends, catch up, but likely attend other educational shenanigans and summer, more of the same. There has never been such a thing as summer's off (well, I stand corrected. There are many who take advantage of this and trust me....students, administrators...and colleagues see it all). 

Sometimes, I'm like bless their souls for feeding their souls.

Last night, I had the pleasure of co-presenting with Drs. Kris Sealey, Gayle Alberda, and Rachelle Brunn-Bevel on Censorship. We know each other well, but have never been put together in the same gathering, although I've often worked with Sealey and Brunn-Bevel on MLK Convocation Week and the workshops surrounding this work, including the Youth Leadership Academy.

And I got to present alongside three superstars. I'm not sure how it was received by the audience, but I think the Library and Lisa Thornell have to be pleased. It filled up nicely. Go, Lisa! Go!

I presented on Banned if we do, Banned if we don't, highlighting a few censorship issues in the local community, (the QR code will lead you to what I had to say) and more importantly highlighting resources that counter such criminality. I'm thankful to the YA writers who are advocates for reading, diversity, and inclusivity. They write for the young people I've always worked with, and not the individuals who want to censor knowledge for U.S. schools. 

Dr. Alberta discussed censorship from a constitutional framework, Dr. Brunn-Bevel approached the work from the University standpoint, and Dr. Sealey deconstructed procedures adopted by Fairfield University to protect students, faculty, and staff.

I filled up my notepads with information I learned from the other presenters, and the Q&A went over by 30 minutes, which I consider a success.

Then, of course, I had to teach. 

This morning, I am going to the dentist. Good times! Rewards! Accolades! Joy!

More importantly, I'm refocusing my attention to a wedding in the Adirondack's, and a bride who is VIP to me, the boys, our household, and our way of knowing. The Rhino-dolphin is getting married and I'm so happy to celebrate her commitment. I'm also happy about having a tin-roofed house for a few days and to appreciate the foliage, the lakes, and the natural landscape. 

...and the low of 35 degrees, with 58 as the high. I've forgotten how to dress (and pack) for that.

Yes, I'll be writing...but I'm doing so in a place and space that is not here. And for that I'm thankful. 

It's National Banned Book Week, and Today is National Banned Book Day, So I Will Be on a Panel Tonight with Some of the Best Scholars at Fairfield

Last night, my graduate students and I spent two hours discussing Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson. Actually, I should point out, I designed the class so I said as little as possible and they, as humans who have lived incredible lives thus far, could come to their own understandings of her work, book banning, the needs for stories, and the power of texts to save the lives of kids. I didn't want to preach that. I wanted them to discuss and come to that realization.

It's a no-brainer. They came to that realization. 

I get why people censor. It comes from a place of fear, and I'm starting my talk with a quote from Laurie Halse Anderson, "Censorship is the child of fear and the father of ignorance." 

Let me repeat that, Laurie Halse Anderson says, "Censorship is the child of fear and the father of ignorance."

They are words that need to sink in...that mean something...that should initiate further thinking. 

Do I teach all books and promote all literature? No. There's no time. Am I, as a professional, strategic about the books I teach and the reasons for it? Of course. I do my best to understand the times and the young people we serve. Do I think banning books should ever be an option? Absolutely not. I follow my colleague from yesteryear's advice: Read everything. Denying anyone access to what is out there is simply wrong, no matter what your agenda. Allow readers free will and to choose for themselves.

Choice is always the best option. Teaching kids to move on when they aren't into a book is good practice. Encourage them to find the next best thing is even better. Yet, denying them a book is anti-democratic. Censorship indignant righteousness.

There are 101 ways I can angle what I say this evening, but it comes down to simple solutions. Everyone deserves opportunity to decide for themselves what to read and not read. No parent or political group should make decisions for others; instead, the individual should decide for themselves. 

Sadly, what is happening right now, I believe, is the act of censoring truth and history. Advocacy groups don't want critical thinkers, because if children grow up asking questions and wondering, they may find answers that don't shed a positive light on the people trying to keep truth and history in front of children. Do I read everything? I don't have time. Do I choose not to read some things? Of course (in fact, I don't read a lot of what others tell me I should be reading). But do I read? Everyday. Why? Because I'm trying to figure out the crazy on this big blue and green marble and, if I'm to be honest, I trust very few.

So I read many.

To me, censoring is criminal. Have your opinions. Make your choices for you and your children. But don't push this on to everyone else. Teachers needs books to help their young readers to be better human beings. 

Books save lives. I have 26 years of practice to prove this. 

Hatred and spite, though....they've never been good for anyone. Show me evidence when they've been a good thing.

Last Night I Needed a Talk with the Great Whatever. I Headed to Short Beach, Parked the Car, Saddled Up Karal, and Off We Went...Prayers and Meditation

This is week three. It didn't take long for the #$@#$ to catch up and the insanity to invade personal space. During the summer, NWP teachers and leaders can navigate educational settings with a mission, purpose, equity, and justice. Then, the school year begins and we are invaded with bureaucracy, administrative hierarchies, and all the inequities that come with it. It's discouraging, frustrating, mind-blowing, and wrong. Yet, this is the way systems work.

There are kids. There are great practices. There are phenomenal educators. And systems keep them from doing good. It's absurd. Don't even get me started on higher education --- when my boys joked that it was a player-hater degree (pile it higher and deeper) I had no clue how correct they were. The Gods Must Be Are Crazy.

And this is why I needed to walk. I was at my computer from 6 a.m. until 3 p.m and only pee'd once. I forgot to eat. I was simply putting out dumpster files and accomplishing work that needed to be done (the lack of support is tremendous, and jobs that used to be held by many are now dumped back on faculty - it's insane).

So, when 3 p.m. came by, I simply got the dog, jumped in the car, and said, I need to see the ocean. I need water therapy. And I got it. 

I posted a similar picture this time last year and my older sister turned it into a portrait that now hangs in the hallway as you walk toward my bedroom. We need reminders in our life about what is most important: water, sunlight, clouds, and human-less spaces. Joy has nothing to do with man- (and woman-) made labor. Joy is being free from the stupidity of our species.

That's why I walked. I needed to think, to process, and to build sustenance, because at week three, I'm already furious with the way universities operate. They are sick, sick institutions (and I know I need to count my blessings....because I'm paid to be a thinker, writer, educator, and doer...which is rare as far as work is concerned). 

At some point, Faustus, I just wonder why we have to sell our souls so much, especially when we work at the foundation of privilege, but fail to see this in our cults of hubris, injustice, and lack of inclusivity. Yet, there we have words, so who needs the actions?

I came home from the walk and reread Laurie Halse Anderson's Speak. I can't recommend this book enough (yes, there's a Syracuse connection). I'm going to try something new tonight, too. I want to be a silent instructor...and to spend two hours listening. I have an idea in my head, but am unsure if I'll pull it off. Great books beget fantastic ideas. I have Laurie (and Melinda) to thank for this.

And I also have the skies and Sound from my Stratford 4-mile walk. 8,000+ steps and a lot of much-needed mental space. 

Okay, Tuesday. What do you got?

I Don't Even Know What the Words Are At This Point - I Just Roll with My Luck, My Opportunities, the Stories, and Beautiful Humanity

I heard from Abdi Nor Iftin, author of Call Me American, a while ago to say he was coming to Connecticut for an event at the Connecticut Institute for Refugees and Immigrants. Well, that just happens to be the location that we work with for Ubuntu Academy, the Refugee Mentoring Program, and Hope Club. So, I simply said, "See you there." Of course the event was at the Black Rock Yacht Club (what he called yakked club), and I have to laugh with him. I'm not used to such spaces either (even if I did two yakked clubs in one weekend). What has my life turned into?

I was happy to be able to meet Abdi Nor Iftin through work with the National Writing Project and have long followed the story since This American Life  featured him on NPR. All of these are worth your attention.

Abdi and the Golden Ticket (2015)

Abdi the American (2020)

The Write Time with Abdi Nor Iftin (2021)

As Human as They (We) Are (2021)

Last night, my colleagues Drs. Alfred Babo, Melissa Quan, Kathleen Freis, Andrea Canuel, and I got to meet, greet, and learn alongside the writer through an event at the CIRI. It was awesome and I was excited to finally meet the man in person. 

Even better, when I arrived, this gorgeous face came up to me and said, "Hey, you," and hugged me with tremendous enormity." I had to wrack my brain thinking, "Why do I know this face? It's so familiar and I can't place it. Help, Great Whatever. This is a good relationship, right?" Then it hit me! It's my dentist and she was at the event with her husband Peter. I don't typically see her without her scrubs and a face mask and so it threw me upside down. "Hey, I saw your son earlier this week and I was so excited to to know you're coming in, too."

Um, I owe her money and will settle up this week. I fee bad that this is the truth (and can you imagine how beautiful their children are????). 

Anyway, great evening at the Black Rock Yacht Club, and looking forward to, perhaps, working again with Abdi Nor Iftin soon. I am thrilled that the National Writing Project daily brought me together with him, and that my work with the Center for Social Impact at Fairfield University continues to believe in the mission that parallels my own. 

And yes, Dr. Kudish was class of 2005...she was in Cheshire with Peter, but technically I taught her generation. Super cool human being...someone everyone should know in the state of Connecticut. 

I Wasn't Worried About College Essays or Enrollments, Dr. Sealey. I Was Totally Concentrating on Grilling Chicken and Feeding the Peoples.

I'm pretty sure Isaiah rocked it. Why wouldn't he? Look at the parental units at home! More impressive is that he concentrated on writing a college application during a late-summer barbecuing event. You have to give him that (although I also applaud the Dave and Kris happy dance that he accomplished what he accomplished, concentrating despite our noise). 

Meanwhile, volleyball and badminton prevailed. My Syracuse buddy, Dr. John Kiweewa (graduated two years before me) came with his family, as did friends from S. Korea, and the Dakotas, via Sudan. It was a beautiful evening of food...friends...festivities.

We did our part, but mother and son kept sneaking inside to work on college essays. I get the stress. It makes sense. They might as well be twins. This kid has a tremendous future.

Meanwhile, I fed another 14 individuals, Karal was thrilled be distracted by so many kids (and met her match with John's youngest son), and I'm feeling sideswiped by all the work that has to be accomplished today. 

But I loved the food, friendship, grilling, and conversation last night: Trinidad, Uganda, Sudan, S. Korea, Sri Lanka, Togo, and Congo all in one space celebrating a new year, and falls semester. That is beautiful, and I'm sure that is close to what Isaiah's essay was all about.

Happy Sunday. Greatest day of the week.

Foo Foo Fancy Friday Night Fish Fry at a Yacht Club - Crandall's Become All Sorts of Fancy Looking Out at the Yachts & Sipping an Old Fashion

Really, it was the luck of the draw. Pam's neighbor belongs to the Yacht club and we were heading out for burgers (national cheeseburger day) when she called and insisted we meet her at the Yacht Club. I was basically in sweats, a baseball cap, and t-shirt, but she insisted we would fit right in. 

I wanted to jump into Ky impersonations like long distant cousins, but I was warned against it. I mean, a yacht club. How fancy is that? 

I did hear they have the best fish fry in Connecticut, so I wanted to give it a dry. Sure enough. Spot on. The fish-n-chips were superb...best I've had in the State, so I'm willing to lift my pinkie once again for such a meal. I just grit my teeth when I talk pretending I'm from Darien..."I'd like the fish fry, please." Who says I can't be related to Thurston Howell, the III?

I bragged that I have a boat, too, and everyone wanted to know what kind. I said, "An Ocean-State Job Lot kayak that I practically got for free." 

That didn't impress many.

Still, it was a great meal, wonderful company, a beautiful skyline. I am sold, and more than willing to return to the club should I ever be invited again. It was far from what I planned for a Friday night, but I ran with it nonetheless.

Happy Saturday. I don't think today will be as mucky-muck.

Feeling the Need to Put Forward One More Garden Burst Before the Frosts Come & the Fallen Leaves

Mt. Pleasant had a pretty rough year with gardens, especially because of the high heat and lack of rain. Still, the patch out front that is in direct sunlight all day long, seemed to love the weather. I put a packet from Kaitlyn & Dominik's wedding into the grown, and it continues to bloom. I love the surprises and feistiness, which also might describe their relationship. They are annuals, so I know they won't be back next year, but for this year, they continue to put a smile on my face. They're almost like fireworks. 

Today is a TGIF, but I know that the day is LONG and I won't be TGIFing until much later tonight. I am looking at the agenda, and wanting to skip the day completely. Still, I want to keep my chin up and walk forward with integrity....to do what is right. 

Yesterday was national cheeseburger day and I hope to catch up on that later this evening. I'm also hoping my lawnmower will come out of the shop and that I can do a trip (perhaps the last) in the next week. I'm not Papi Butch. I would never find a reason to mow everyday. In fact, I avoid that (too much like childhood). 

In the meantime, I'll enjoy the nymphs, hoppers, and swallowtails still making their way to the flowers out front. The bees are thankful, too. 

Next summer, I hope my entire back lawn will look like this. If grass doesn't want to grow...why not a field of wildflower perennials. That would look great. 

Still On the Road, Still Finding Out...The Composing Processes for Graduate Students...Fastest Two Hours of the Week.

I am rather monotonous. "Is it me or do these two hours fly by?" I ask at 9:15 on Wednesday nights. "Well, they fly by in your other class, too."

Really? I guess that is good. Since I was in 1st grade I'd sketch out ways a teacher might be more effective to meet the needs of more kids in the classroom. I always thought, "there has to be a more fun way to teach this. There has to be a way to hare joy while learning, too." 

And if I'm bored, I know they'll be bored. 

That is why we played a game that began with "Graduate students roll their eyes with boredom," until it became "Old grandpa enrolled in Hogwarts." Don't ask. But it's the truth. We read from Hope Wins, we played with activity theory, we sunk the Titanic by ignoring history and culture of our students, and we set up more readings for next week. 

Dun Dun Dun. They will be assigned to write, soon. Mweh he he. Evil writing course that makes teachers of writing actually have to write. With this coupled with YA Literature, I'm in my element. Finally am able to teach my two loves simultaneously. 

But then I get home and my races in circles trying to remember what I forgot, what I still have to do, and what's on the agenda tomorrow. At least I don't have to report to an 8 a.m. like I did last year.

Alright. I have goals for the day and sitting around on my blog won't get them done. I really do love being on the road to find out, though. Thankful to Cat Stevens, too. 

Okay, Wednesday. I See Your Two Humps, and I Raise You By Another Two Humps. Hey, 80s/90s Kids...Who Remembers Camels?

We had our big The Outsiders class last night, and talked about 101 things. I wanted the class to go well, but it actually far surpassed my expectations. Nope. Nothing to do with me. I believe it's just because The Outsiders has that something to get people talking. "Pony Boy...try to only smoke a pack of cigarettes a day. You're on the track team." 

Different times.

But we wrote about our own schools: inside/outside, status, neighborhoods, stereotypes, and I recalled the 1st floor cafeteria and the smoking lounge, thinking that some had time to smoke during four-minute changing of classes. Huh? But then I started thinking about senior year, college, and all the Camel cigarettes that floated about....Can you see the guy standing in the camel's ankle? There were subliminal messages in those packs...the marketing. 

It's hard for me to imagine a time like this ever existed. You tell a 14 year-old kid to think twice about smoking more than a pack a day? 

Camel thoughts. 

And it is humpday, I have a late night class tonight plus I get to hand over a Chair-duty at 1 pm (I am officially no longer the Chair of R&T....the time I'm regaining is immeasurable). I can focus on other leadership for a while (but more importantly, on finding my sanity)

I'm entering this morning knowing it's the climb up, and it's time for the slide down. We got this. Will likely spend the entire day in the office, but we got this. 

Sure...Why Not Go for Cuban Infusion on a Monday Night When All These Due Dates Are Piling Up? Okay. I Put This Gathering Off for Months

I'm a non-committal jerk. Always have been. Always will be. It's hard for me to make plans because how am I supposed to know what mood I'll be in when we have a scheduled date. I like to play everything by ear and see what is possible at the moment when it's possible. That's probably why having Jessie and Michelle over for dinner this summer never happened. My grill was busted and without any administrative support, I had to take on all the additional roles, too. People think I'm kidding, but I really am working three full time jobs and getting paid for one. 

That is why when the idea for a Monday night dinner came around, and I was feeling good about the deadlines I have for myself, I said, "Sure. I can do dinner, but it will have to be 7 p.m."

Well it worked. 

I can't tell you what I had but it was delicious and I didn't finish it. Cuban fusion - Michelle's recommendation.

It was also good to catch up with Jessie, too, check in on the kids, figure out next steps for a new year, and to meet with others who inspire me on campus and bring forward joy. 

A Spanish language film specialist and a nurse. If ever I get hurt reading subtitles, I will know exactly who to call. I don't allow enough of this in my world, and when I do take a break I enjoy myself. I like to listen and process the way others see the world. 

Here's to the semester. Don't tell my graduate students I was out. I should be home reading more articles. 

I Vaguely Remember S.E. Hinton in High School, Then Reread All the Books on My Own, & Now Am Teaching in a YA Lit Course. It's Just...

This is probably the 4th or 5th time I've read The Outsiders. Yes, it was a classic while I was growing up, and yes, all the girls had crushes on the boys who played parts in the movie, and yes, a vast majority of young people read this in school, yada...yada..yada...but truthfully, it's just a rock-solid text. I started rereading Sunday afternoon, and didn't move from my chair. Now I have to think about how I want to go about discussing it as the inaugural text (a classic) I assigned my students to read in the YA course I'm teaching this semester. To be honest, I don't want them to have to listen to what I am thinking. I really simply want to hear them discussing the book and to see if it holds up in their young minds in the ways that it does my own.

I'm also wondering if it would appeal to adolescent readers today - I imagine it would, and is one of the reasons it remains a classic to all. Does the language hold up? Mostly. Can the text be taught in totally new ways given cultural shifts and conversations? Definitely! Can one give a critical, gendered read? Of course. Would it trigger emotions of its readers? I imagine so (especially if it is the first time one reads a book that hits the soul like this one does). 

Yes, "Stay Gold," resonates, but this time reading through, I love the moments that follow Johny's death. Now, this morning, I know I'm going to go on a nerdy hunt to read academic articles of yesteryear I missed for the ways this story has been discussed and theorized by others (as if I have time) (as if it matters)

And I also know I'm a writing guy who lives in YA worlds for inspiration. Literature, to me, is to inspire other writers, and not to "tie up to a chair and demand a confession" of it to allude Billy Collins. I would much rather write with the books than micro-analyze them in the ways I've been trained. 

Ah, we shall see. This is what today will be all about. 

We Never Give It Justice, but When the Harvest Move Comes Each Fall, We Throw It a Party on Walnut Beach (Marvelous Night for a Moondance)

She was orange and she was huge. She came up beautiful, simply as predicted, but not one of our cameras did her justice. We just don't have those types of cameras, but we come to sing her beauty anyway. Also, Leo strung lights at Pam's, so her patio is like an outdoor restaurant now, and perfect for cooling night dance parties. We sang and danced, all to burn off the Hoffman hotdogs and tater tots we had for dinner. 

This morning, however, the guilt is kicking in and I need a full day on my laptop with my nose in the books. The days are ticking by a little too fast and there are multiple deadlines to meet...expectations that need to be filled.

I got this. I have no choice. 

I just wish I could get rid of the dryness in my nostrils that continues to plague me at night with the dripping from sinuses into the back of my throat. It's not fun at all, even when I know I have apple cider donuts waiting for me for breakfast.

My goal was to get the kayak in the water once again, but I wasn't feeling the cooler temperatures nor trusting my bulging knee enough to jump in. Instead, I just wanted to sit on the beach and take in the air of a summer departing (which I succeeded at doing). 

Today also needs to be a Karal day. I neglected her a little too much yesterday, even if we did get in a long walk. Alright...time to make this day take off.

The Things that Make Me Tap Dance on a Saturday Morning. @halseanderson's SPEAK Arrived & I'm Super to Have Possible Futures as My New Book Joint

Dr. Lauren Anderson amazes me.

I met her a few years ago, we bonded, and then she left academia to do more for the world, including the opening of Possible Futures in New Haven. Yesterday, I was at Hill Central K-8 revving up a new school year with professional development and received a text from Lauren to say, "Your books are here." 

As one of my back-to-school rituals, I scan local wish lists of teachers I love and do what I can. When William King posted he was in need of Speak for his English language learners (who are devouring YA texts), in was a no-brainer. These are the Ubuntu kids from summer and they are a treasure to work with. Done. A class set.

I also splurged on Rachel Ignotofsky's The Wondrous Workings of Planet Earth, Ben Ork's Every Leave a Hallelujah and Solar: The Sword of the Monarchs by Pam Muñoz Ryan for our National Park collaboration with Weir Farm National Historical Park. We'll be reading landscapes, and writing nature once again!

So, Lauren's new store is extra special because she planted it in a community that does not have easy-access to books. She's serving kids and adults of New Haven with some of the best writers and resources in the world. She's showcasing local artists, too, and has a community space so that outside groups can gather and meet. It is the real deal, and now I want to do a Connecticut Writing Project mixer there....we can gather, read, write, and share. I love it. I didn't want to leave. In fact, I put the boxes of books in my Subaru, then went back in and made a few more purchases for myself (okay, I admit it. Stunt Boy by Jason Reynolds and Goliath by Tochi Onyebuchi were selfish, and just for me). 

There's nothing better than an independent book store (that is also dog friendly), and I love the fact that members of the neighborhood already shout out to her when they see her (and Sugar, too). New Haven is the city where Yale resides, and the two Americas are blatantly obvious to anyone who chooses to visit. Yes, I take advantage of the art events and festivals geared towards the University crowds, but I'm also in local schools all over the city who operate with minimum resources and access. I love that Possible Futures chose to be in a space that is local, convenient, customer friendly, and purposeful - to serve the overlooked and too often forgotten. It's admirable. 

So, it's been a no-brainer to order books from her for a few years now, but definitely the reasons are more obvious ow that Possible Lives opened. And I love the flow of people who already know she's there, come by to say hi, and make their purchases --- even the grandmothers who come in to read a book to their grandchildren, then buy another to take home. 

If only more business operated with such joy and love for the people...imagine that world. 

In Japan, I Saw a Father Walk Up to a Scratching Son and Ask, "Itchy knee, son?" The Boy Responded, "Dad...I already know how to count."

I admit it. That is not a knee slapper at all.

I'm icing my knee. Weeks after falling through rotting stairs (not a scratch or bruised on me), suddenly my knee is swollen with gelatinous fluids. I've still walked four miles a day and moved about normally, but by the end of the day, the grapefruit returns. Yes, mom...I know I should have it looked at. And no, mom. I don't see any breaks in my schedule to make time for this in the immediate future.

I diagnosed myself with a chipped patella years ago, and used to gross students out by showing them how I could move the chip around the knee. It never swelled up, although the only time it didn't hurt was when I was running. 

I also borrowed this great ice pack from Pam, because she's had ever leg injury known to humankind. I believe she has stock in ice packs. This one I love, though, because it wraps around and tightens to make sure of maximum ice impact. 

I knew after grant meetings today I was going to grocery shop at Trader Joe's, walk the dog, cook, then record an episode of The Write Time (can't wait! woot Woot! SONYA HUBER). In my head, though, I was thinking most about my nightly ice ritual and the smile it brings to my face.

I wake up in the morning and it is usually normal. I'm told I should go in so they can stick a straw in it and  slurp out the liquids like a Slurpee. As fun as that sounds, I'd rather keep to the ice for now.

TGIF, y'all. Time for all the other projects.

Hey, Mom. Remember That Shirt You Said You Got Me, But I Never Got? Well, I Found It In A Pile of Buried In My Bedroom. I'm Okay. You Nailed It.

Wednesdays are my late night, so Thursday mornings are my time to slowly wake up and address items I've put aside over the weekend. I finally wore the t-shirt my mother sent me for my birthday or Christmas or Groundhog's Day or St. Patrick's of a man buried underneath books (which I can relate to on a daily basis). More accuracy would involve emails, papers to grade, and journal revisions, too. It really is a perfect shirt. I'm here. I'm okay.

I think the oddest part about this semester is that people are back and in action, which is very strange for someone who spent the last couple of years in a hallway all by himself. New faculty have moved in and are social, and old faculty have come out of ZOOM hibernation to give in-person teaching a chance again. It sort of freaky to hear the doors opening and closing and chit-chat in the hallways once more. I'm so used to having full reign of the place  my with no distraction. 

Now, when I ritually come in every morning and say, "Hello, colleagues," there's actually a response. I got used to the echo of nothing and then my humor, "Hello, Crandall. Yes, so nice to see you today. What are you working on?" which I would say out loud when no one responded. There are people that answer now and it is totally freaky.

I've officially met all my students for this semester and now need to think ahead to grant reports and grant implementation. It will be Bridgeport today and New Haven on Friday, plus a special recording of The Write Time tonight. So excited.

But Thursday mornings are for catching my breath from a late class and back-to-back meetings for two days. Now, I just want to stay in space and move some of these books around. Trash is out. Karal is by my side. I know I need vegetables. The first week is almost at a wrap. And that is that.

Back-to-School Gifting...One Way to Put Joy in the Air is to Simply Think Ahead and Deliver At Just the Right Moment

I knew eventually William King would come around in search of Ain't Burned All the Bright by Jason Reynolds (illustrations by Jason Griffin), which he left with me because his car was full after Ubuntu Academy and they were really heavy --- have you ever lifted 50 copies of this text? I was right. He came knocking yesterday afternoon and I was ready. I purchased t-shirts for him and Jessica as back-to-school gifts.

Ubuntu (I am because we are)

I sent him on his way with the t-shirts, still fueled by the amazing time we had this summer with 38 incredible youth.

Last night's class went fine, but now it is time for a long day and a late class tonight (which I need to work on this morning). 

As a bonus to the first night, I gave each of my graduate students a copy of Jason's book and then downloaded him reading it on audible. Yesterday was National Read a Book Day, so I said, "Let's read our first book written for children and adolescents and figure out what's on the mind of the Ambassador for Young Adult Literature." When they saw the size of the book I think they all cringed. Then, with his voice and the first page, it was accomplished with love.

Yo! He's a fast reader, though. Dang. 

Onward we go. Another day.

Year 26 for This Fool (27 If You Count the Louisville Nature Center) and I Still Can Attest, I've Been in Schools Since Kindergarten. This Is My 45th Year

I never sleep well the night before a new year kicks off, and I do hold fall semesters as the "new year," because that is what teachers are trained for. I also made a promise that I'd always be aligned with K-12 schools and in as many buildings as possible so that higher education doesn't rub off on me too much (it is amazing the number of individuals in education who teach teachers, but never step inside or involve themselves with the operations of our public schools. It's always made me wonder their claims to authority and expertise --- achievements in higher educations are not the workings of life in every day schools). 

I'll take the expertise of youth first, followed by parents and teachers. I'll check their brilliance against the scholarship I read and participate with, then figure out a way to counter and withstand administrative tsunamis that arrive with thick bureaucracies, hypocrisy, and what I simply see as silliness. But it's not funny -- it's actually sick.

But we do what is best for developing readers and writers, and some of us are fortunate to have National Writing Project training for developing all children. We need to lock arms against the armies of Orcs and Deatheaters that fly at us from the Ministry of Magic. 

The way I see it, I have at least another 15 years to go. If I stayed in Kentucky, I could retire like many of my colleagues who were with me at the University of Louisville in 1996. I set the clock way back, however, because I opted out of the K-12 shenanigans for a Ph.D. -- little did I know that the bureaucracy is piled way higher and much deeper in higher education. It had to be learned.

I have a course tonight to teach, another tomorrow, several meetings (including those pesky grants), and a special appearance in a doctoral seminar at Kennesaw State University (can't wait). This morning, I finish prepping classes, tuning syllabi, and arranging projects, hoping my body won't get too disgruntled for having to wear pants again. I've been in shorts all summer (as CWP work is on the ground, active, and energized in a way the stuffy school year is not)(I just do what I do with a little more formality about me).

I am heading in today with zest for the power of teaching, joy for young adult literature, and nothing but appreciation for the K-12 educators that work across the nation. On Friday, I get to join a school's faculty to help plan a year of professional development and I can't wait to hear what's on the minds of educators this year.

I still think teaching is a calling, and I'm glad I was called (doomed! Doomed, I tell ya!). 

Here's to 2022-2023. WE GOT THIS!!!!

Good Deed for the Weekend: Supporting the Stratford High School Cheerleaders Who Were Laboring to Raise Money for Their Cheer Team

Every penny always counts at ever school, for ever club, in ever state, and for every organization that works with youth. As a teacher and once-upon-a-time Volleyball coach, it used to drive me mad how many thousands of dollars it cost us out of our own pockets just to keep things afloat. You'd think there'd be support, but nope. You want it, you got to work for it. Perhaps that is why I know what I have to do for CWP.

I was heading outside to wash my car when Kris Sealey posted that Isaiah's girlfriend and her team were hosting a car wash. That was easy...a no brainer.

So I went and they were a bit horrified having to pull a butterfly out of the grill of the front. Whoops. That's 17 for you...all those up and down hills. I'd help it if I could.

But the Hulk is cleaned and today it's my turn to labor. I have a presentation at Kennesaw State University on Tuesday, followed by my first YA Literature course. It's all beginning this week and that's the way it always rolls.

The good news is, however, that they're calling for rain for two complete days. I'm so excited to see this liquid fall from the sky. It's really, really gross and the soil needs to drink some

Here's to having Mondays off forever. It's really nice.

Great Evening of West Fest, Grilling, Corn-Hole, Michael, Yellow, Edem, and Fireworks on the Beach with Cocktails and Cookies

The weather finally flipped, educators get a three day weekend, and the grills are still working as they do. Kathy and Michael invited me over for corn-hole and burgers, and Edem came along to be my partner. They have a beautiful back porch and yard, so we ate outside, threw a few beanbags, then walked down to the beach for the firework display, needing sweatshirts to cut the chill from the westward flowing winds.

Nice job West Haven and New Haven. West Fest fireworks were nicely done, and there were just the right amount to get ya from feeling antsy and like you want to stab your eyes out. 

I can't say I've watched fireworks over the Long Island Sound before, but it was wonderful to see the lights flickering on the lapping waves coming in. Michael was a master on the grill, too, and it might be the best burger I've had all summer (of course, pickles help and fresh buns). 

The Silvers have a great space in West Haven and make the most of it...great hosts, wonderful home, phenomenal backyard, and great location to get away for a little while...to catch up. 

Definitely feeling Fall in the air though...just like that after a horrifically hot several weeks. We are entering open windows sleeping and hoodies weather.

I'm all in. 

Happy Sunday, Y'all.

Not Loving the Date of this Calendar and the Promise of Another Circus-of-a-Year Ahead...Sort of Kicking and Screaming My Way Through This Weekend

I do it to myself. Work that is. I go at it almost of every week of the year and when I have time off, it's usually a working vacation where I'm going for work or I am returning to Syracuse to help family. So when a new calendar kicks in gear for another year I'm like, "Wait. I need a break. I need mindless adventure, travel, and no responsibilities." It's been many, many years since I've had such time and I don't think that break has occurred while at Fairfield. I keep dreaming it will one day come.

As a result, I take hours here and there, sometimes a weekend, and sometimes short road trip.

That is why Labor Day weekend (where I really need to labor), I'm like, "Nooooo. don't make it all return!"

Actually, I don't mind the CWP work with teachers and K-12 youth and I love teaching and doing research with colleagues across the nation. It's the other bureaucracy that comes with the job and its leadership. I'm like, "Don't make me. Don't make me. I don't want to return to that again. I don't have the civility in me any more."

And yet, here it is...three days and the nonstop chaos begins. Ah, but I can say I don't have the R&T Chair responsibilities on me twos year and that is a tremendous relief.

Aiming for tremendous productivity this morning so I can have the afternoon and evening in West Haven with friends. I will try. I will really, really try.

It Was a Gorgeous Day for a Faculty Picnic. Looks Like a New Year Is Upon Us Rather Quickly (Guess Who Will Be Laboring This Weekend?)

I'm not sure I'm ready, but I knew that yesterday would kick off the new academic calendar. CWP-Fairfield summer work ended mid-August, and now it's time for fall semester. Zip...zap...zoom. K'boom. And yesterday I got to pick up a new colleague from S. Korea who is subletting another faculty member's home this semester. She flew 24 hours and I wasn't jet lagged - even came to campus. That is remarkable. I'd want to sleep!

It was a great event and the Faculty Welfare Committee should be very proud. I think it was the nicest picnic they've ever thrown, and the turnout was amazing. Not much representation from the School of Education, but it was wonderful to meet a new hire in counselor ed!!! Syracuse grad, YOU KNOW! He's from Uganda and his family is delightful.

I should note the photo was early on and that crowd quadrupled. 

It's always wonderful to see the hospitality and kindness of so many faculty from across the campus - it's a great reminder that there's a network out there that remains remarkable.

Today is Friday. I'm working on syllabi...I'm problem solving for students. I'm conducting grant reports. I'm cherishing Deb Mathews in the grants department, and I'm going to soak up the last glimmers of summer sun while I can. 

Here's to y'all. These summer months fly way too fast. 

Let's Make Today's Post All About Balls. Not Cynderballs, But Caribbean Rum Balls, and Footballs, Baseballs, Tennis Balls, and Even Proms & Balls.

It's been an interesting 24 hours, where I've been sort of scroll-dumb looking for information that would help educate me on the universe and the world. Sometimes, we just hav to hang low and roll with the punches, figuring out what life's tests give us (we are all test-ees, after all). That's the nature of these gems.

So, I returned yesterday and decided I was going to have a CNY wiener roast on my back patio, cooking up salt potatoes and Hoffman's, with a cucumber salad and some zucchini. I put the rub on the materials and knew company was coming at night. 

We were set to have a ball, but then I was thinking of my older sister in CNY and all she's doing for everyone...not many can handle the junk like she does. She just gets on her knees and digs in...whatever it takes. Nursing, mothering, slaughtering, driving, NAVAC, sex therapist - she does it without complaint. ("Mom, I don't need to know that," followed by "I'll be right there."

But then Dr. Kris Sealy happens to bring Caribbean Rum Balls as a gift, while I cook them weenies and taters, all the while receiving phone calls from Mommie dearest and Cynderballz, and I can't help but think, "We've got this. The Great Whatever has a sense of humor to look out for us all." It just takes tighty whities and a few showers and all will be okay.

We just never know. We live. We adapt. We adjust (or shift for comfort) and we learn. This is the way the balls roll down the alley and land on the Bocce court. In this world, balls are unpredictable and they do what they do, one sac-end at a time.

Medicine is good. Beer is better. And a sense of humor is how we cope, so it is best. Look out dog-walkers of Cherry Heights...you just might be getting a story today like no other. 

If only I could share this chocolate with my mom and sisters...I would.