Okay, Crandall. Fingers Crossed This All Goes Well. Today's the Big Day for the Cultivated Women's Collective Conference, Inspired by @IbiZoboi and @GholdyM

This is the back story. Crandall was eavesdropping after a summer institute for teaching of writing and overheard two teachers discussing their after school writing clubs for girls. We just read Gholdy Muhammad's Cultivating Genius: An Equity Framework for Culturally and Historically Responsive Literacy and Crandall responded, "I wish there was a grant I could write to invest in your work."

Wola! He found one offered by the Cornelia T. Bailey New Era Writer's Program and quickly sent it off. As he was composing, he learned of Ibi Zoboi's upcoming poetic biography, Star Child: A Biographical Constellation of Octavia Estelle Butler, and knowing his colleague, Dr. Kris Sealy, loves Octavia Butler, he proposed sponsoring 8 after-school girls programs on writing across southern Connecticut. Each girl would get Star Child as a mentor text, plus another $86 for their own book purchases (phew! their selections are data in itself). The goal: to choose books to inspire their own writing. Boom!

Then he heard nothing. He waited and waited for over 6 months. In February, though, a check arrived to CWP-Fairfield int he full amount requested to support teachers and girl writers. 

Inhale. Exhale.

The last four months have been a whirlwind, as books were placed in the hands of over 96 girl writers and their teachers, snacks were provided weekly, and plans for Writing Our Lives and Finding Our Stars were put into place. This morning, over 100 girls and their chaperones are coming from schools across the state so they can attend workshops with phenomenal minds at Fairfield University (including Dr. Kris Sealey) and beyond. We have 10 workshops they can choose from, plus a visit from the author, Ibi Zoboi, herself.

Yesterday, I got all the rooms ready, and put together gift bags for the teachers and presenters (and even for the girls - they are also getting copies of the debut collection, Hope Wins, edited by Rose Brock). Crandall is biting his nails that all goes off smoothly, and is very conscious that he (and William King) will be the only males in attendance (William gets it, too...we invest in all students...that's how we roll). 

But I need to share that yesterday was an absolute downpour. I was drenched loading my car and getting all the spaces ready. I waited for lulls in the rain, and I after playing red light/green light with the showers, I eventually got everything where it needed to go. But I was soaked to the bone.

I can't wait to see how it all evolves today. These young women have been writing for publication all semester and are spending their last weeks tweaking their pieces to be published in Power of Words - The Cultivated Women's Collective. 

The teachers - they are just incredible educators and human beings.

Thankful to Ibi Zoboi (one of the best writer's composing right now) and Gholdy Muhammad (one of the greatest minds of literacy ever). The idea of the two of them (their work) in conversation together was magical...history matters. And who would have guessed CWP would receive the investment for the project? It's been magical. 

And now I'm off to campus to see it come to fruition. Wusah!

Reflecting on Writing Our Lives & Finding Our Joy - a Cross-District Literacy Event That Couldn't Be Possible Without @KSekouM's Vision for BLACK BOY JOY

Truth is, I hold my breath from time to time. When teachers from two districts seek a book they can share and do cross-district planning upon, I always want to find the perfect text. This year, that was Black Boy Joy edited by Kwame Mbalia, with an all-star team of writers. I suggested, "Read the stories, have the students write their own joy tales, and bring everyone together for a discussion about zip-code apartheid, U.S. diversity, stereotypes, and the question, how does happiness work given the racial histories of our nation?"

With Julian Winters representing the writers, a large event hall to pull all the students together, and tremendous break out rooms for discussions and writing, I have to say the entire day was a success. I look forward to seeing what the teachers collect as final products. What I do know is that I have a lifetime supply of water because it was over 90 degrees and everyone brought water with them...cases, and cases, of water. 

I also have to shout out Jersey Mikes who, without even being asked, contacted a teacher and said, "We'd like to donate lunch for the event." Apparently, owners from the chain in Connecticut have a connection through Harding High School. Sure enough, 11:30 a.m. hit and over 140 sandwiches were delivered. AMAZING. 

The real shout-out, however, goes to the teachers: Fola Sumpter, Barbara Robbins, and Kim Herzog. They've carrie this work forward all year and work on nights and weekend to make the collaborations possible (ah, the National Writing Project really does establish teacher leaders).

For the writers like Kwame Mbalia and Julian Winters, we simply say keep producing great work. We need these books in our school. For the CWP teachers, I simply sit back and say amazing. It is your vision that helps directors like me take it to the next level. It's easy to invest in excellence, especially when it benefits young people (and the heterogeneity of American society).

For the amazing teachers and youth? Keeping doing exactly as you're doing. It was an amazing day.

It's Jacob Charles Birthday! And It's the Pelican's Birthday (& Recovery, Too). Going Into Humpday Singing the Cake and Candle Songs

A bonus for traveling to Syracuse this past weekend was being able to see my nephews, including Jake, who is celebrating his years on earth today with his family and friends. He's now a teenager! I am hoping the Amazon gift card came in time and that his finger recovered from playing catch with Chitunga on Amalfi Drive this past weekend. 

Birthday Happy, J.C. Barnwell.

I will never forget the night I was babysitting Sean-Man while Casey was in labor. Dave came home in the middle of the night, exhausted, and said. "Well, we've given birth to a boxer." He was so tiny, but his face scrunched up like he was going into a ring to throw some serious punches. 

Also celebrating life today is Dr. Susan James, my mind-partner and daily life-coach who resides in Pensacola, Florida. To celebrate her birthday, she chose to have a medical procedure yesterday and is in full recovery mode - but I still wish a million and one prayers her way so she can be back on her feet emptying the ocean with a fork again (since it's our favorite pastime). 

I'm happy that my friend, Mr. Pelican, arrived in the mail to her this past weekend and now we simply need a porch frog to go with her butterfly pot and bird. This way, every time she enters her home she'll have a reason to smile. 

This year has been so frantic and hectic with Covid, teaching, online adjustments, research, collaborations, and dreams - Susie Q has been with me every step of the way and although she does  "more," I love her friendship, inspiration, and investments in hope. She is all heart, always.

I have a full night of teaching, and I'm still processing an incredible day of Writing Our Lives and Finding Our Joy (what a phenomenal conference with 100+ 10th graders from Harding and Staples High Schools.

And here's a hip-hip hooray for the temperature plummet that occurred around dinner time last night. I don't mind the July heat, but it's better when in July. I want to embrace and enjoy a few more June days, too. 

Happy Birthday, Red!

Can't Wait to Host @Harding_High and Students from @mrsherzogSHS and @Barbara75223900's Classrooms Today - Writing Our Lives & Finding Our Joy

It's the end of the year as we know it, and I feel fine! 

Yep, all the projects are culminating and the next few weeks are a celebration of the hard work of incredible teachers. When Fola Sumpter, Kim Herzog, and Barb Robbins come my way with a project idea, I can't help but respond, "Let's do it." Students from Harding and Staples High School have been collaborating on "Joy" projects as they read Kwame Mbalia's (ed) Black Boy Joy. Fortunate for us, too, Julian Winters has agreed to be a spokesman - the entire collection is phenomenal (and we were lucky to have Julia on The Write Time earlier last year). 

Wait. I have to stop a second. I had Kwame Mbalia, Varian Johnson, Julian Reynolds, and Cosby Hunt in one space earlier this year. Dang. I am still dancing as a result of that show. BRILLIANT. This time we get Julian Winters!

Today, however, over 100 kids come to workshop ideas, thinking, writing, discussion, and possibilities in the Dolan School of Business Event Center, and will utilize breakout rooms throughout the building (this is a dream space for educators and work like this). I spent yesterday setting up with 100s of bottles of water, Capris Suns, and gummy bears (plus writing supplies out the yazoo). 

This is a Barb and Fola Book Club tradition!

There's nothing better than the feeling of a fantastic investment: great schools, wonderful teachers, brilliant text, and the gift of Julian Winters. I can hardly wait to see how the young people deliver the brilliance of their hard work. 

This is a dream team for sure. 

I love the National Writing Project work I'm blessed to do.

And With That, I've Returned Safely to Connecticut to Kick-Off Two Weeks of Incredible, Joyous Sanity for Hope & the Stars

The drive home was uneventful. The traffic flowed, I had a good book to listen to, and Kanyea and Courtney found time to stop by to see me, Butch, Karal, and Sue, before I left. Amazing to witness the maturity and growth of the very people I love to mentor and learn with.

I did come home with the CWP computer being ousted from Fairfield University systems again (this is the annual tradition of summer - so frustrating), but I found a work-around with online emails and passwords, although I gave myself plenty of grays trying to remember exactly how. 

Mom worried I left Karal's IAMs behind, but I assured her that was a bag for Amalfi Drive visits. All is well. She will be able to eat.

Today, I drive to campus to get all the supplies for 100s of kids coming for the Writing Our Lives - Black Boy Joy event with Harding High School, Staples High School, and Julian Winters. 

Phew. I saw these weeks coming, and now I need to see them carried forward, even with grad capstones hovering above and around every corner. Easier to get the work done when it isn't sunny and 88 degrees. The beach is calling.

And I'm chagrined, because a piece of mail that was mailed to me before I left is still not in my mailbox...I'm awaiting a book. Instead of that book, though, I have another box of children's books waiting to find a good home. 

Ah, we got this. Breathing in. Breathing out. 

Can't Do a CNY Visit Without Frequenting Chubby's with Papi Butch. Can't go wrong with Bar Food and Beer in the Middle of the Day

I should have known on Friday when Lowes didn't deliver the new fridge until 9:30 p.m. (we'll have it there between 12-4), that Saturday would be a hot mess. Lowe's did get the new fridge in the garage, but not in the laundry room, so Butch was out in the garage at 6:30 a.m. trying to remember the difference between a Phillips and flat screwdriver. He didn't want to wait for Lowe's to return (this can't be faulted...they've been asses throughout). He did, though, kick me into gear, so we took the doors off, and then Cynde arrived and we got the new fridge in. 

I can't redo the play-to-play, because it's too much drama to recall, but Mom and Dad do have a new fridge downstairs and the ice-maker works (thanks, Mike). Then, dad needed a new pump for the wheels of his pushcart (that were flat), so we got him one of those, only to learn he had an air compressor in the garage. It's all good. Karen and Fred lent theirs.

Patience is the only way we can roll. And I also went to BJs to get sirloin steak tips and then prepared potatoes and barbecue for dinner - delicious. We won't say anything about the bottle of wine Cynde, Chitunga, and I finished post dinner, all while temperatures dropped and we wanted Butch to build a fire. Alas, no wood. 

But we had Chubby's for lunch. That's a tradition that can't be overlooked. And Mom and Dad now have a new fridge for their water, Pepsis, and Diet Pepsis. 

Ah, Syracuse. The traditions are always there for us, as is family. All love. All appreciation. 

Finally Saw the Last Episode (Finale) of THIS IS US. For Me, the Randall/Deja Storyline Was What Put the Bow on the Entire Series.

I'm actually a lot less emotional than I expected to be at the season finale of THIS IS US. Over the last year, the writers have done a good job of pulling stories together, and the typical emotional lines weren't as powerful, but more delicately displayed. It was driving me nuts that adult Deja wasn't the same actress as teenage Deja, although I kept thinking I might be wrong - the doppelgänger familiarity was extremely close. For some reason, I wish they kept the same actress.

After all, Randall, Beth, and Deja have been my favorite characters throughout all these years, especially with the strength they demonstrated as characters, parents, and willing recipients for new definitions of love (which Jack and Rebecca allowed to develop). 

To me, all of THIS IS US leaders to Deja's storyline and the fact that she is pregnant with a son....William. That got me...a reason why I fell in love with the writing all along.

And there it goes. An endings. I had low expectations for the show, but also high ones, simply because it has been a staple throughout the last several years. I watched the final episode ready to be critical and to pick it apart.

Nope. It was superb. Very well done, and in the genre of the writing that made/makes it what it is. 

But if they started a show called Deja, I'd start watching tomorrow. I loved her character and all she might bring forward to the world. 

I'm sad to see this show end, but I'm proud I stayed with it. I remember when it first started, Chitunga and my mom hooked me in. I see why.

It really was a beautiful story. 

4 a.m. Wake Up Call. 5 a.m. Departure. 7:30 Flight Back to Syracuse. Fortunate to Also Have Spent Some Time with Literacy Friends

As always, everything NWP was rejuvenating, joyful, hopeful, exciting, and exhausting. I am hoping I'll find some time to sleep on the plane (and even more hopeful I might get some leg room). Was also thankful to Stephanie Toliver stopped by to say hi to Tonya and me, albeit brief and only for dinner. It was great seeing her in person once again (and I love that people super-fanned her at our table).

These two brilliant human beings..

I am wishing for a safe flight so I can spend a couple of days with my family, and help my parents some. There's a lot going on in the next few weeks, and I need to reserve some energy for the calling (which are blessings, although intense). 

Thank you National Writing Project. I think because we spent 8 hours a day writing, I'm spent with what to share right now on the ol' blog, but do know I absorbed much and have the direction I need.

I'll be in touch. 

Trust me. 

Okay, @CuseCoachJack! Syracuse in the House! Yes, I Know. We're in Denver. But I See You. We Got This. Cuse Nation! Orange Women.

So, I chose to drive to Syracuse, fly from Syracuse to Denver, then fly back to Syracuse. Why? My family is in Syracuse and my doctorate is from there. I'm in the lobby of the hotel and see Syracuse garb (that's what happens when luggage doesn't arrive) and I say, "SYRACUSE," in which I then meet Syracuse Head Coach Felisha Legette-Jack. She just arrived, because she's doing a keynote for a conference of women coaches at the same hotel, promoting strong women in sports.

Boom. Bam. Bing! That was the thing! 

Of course I talked Hoops4Hope, Skills4Life, Hoops Africa: Ubuntu Matters, and all the Syracuse connections. 

All the way in Colorado to meet the head coach from Syracuse in the lobby. That's what I'm talking about. Now, I have to get Dr. Kelly Chandler-Olcott, the School of Education, Abu & Lossine Bility, and the Syracuse refugee community together to talk sports, literacy, women's athletics, mentorship, and the necessary skills to achieve on and off the course. BOOM. 

I'm ready for Ubuntu Academy Syracuse. I know the two young men who would be able to lead the way.

#LeadershipMatters #CoachesRock #GoOrange

We're all in this together.

It's Been a Minute for National Travel, but I Made it to Denver, Colorado for a National Writing Project Meet. I'm Exhausted. But I'm Here

Crandall got it in his head that he'd drive to Syracuse, leave Karal with the parental units, then fly to Colorado for the NWP gathering, only to return to Syracuse to visit for a couple of days. So began a day of travel that began at 5:30 a.m. and ended and 11:30 p.m. (well, 9:25, East Coast time).

I don't think I was ready for the crowds of airplanes and airports, but we have to start somewhere. Hotel pillows and hotel beds. Here we go.

It was nice, however, to sit in the bar last night with faces I've worked with online for the past two years. That, of course, is also surreal, as it seems like there was this massive time warp and we were all victim to it. 

Okay, I need to get out of my room and into the conference center for a bagel and some coffee. I did, however, arrive, and I am thankful for it. 

Can We Count One-Year Anniversaries in Dog Years? If So, Then I Achieve More Than I Thought. 365 Days with Karal Lynne Karma Caramel Cupcake

Truth is we did a long walk in the morning, and it wasn't until Facebook reminded me, that I realized it was a year ago yesterday that I adopted Karal (here's the post from a year ago). After the walk, I drove to New Haven Schools, did work with teachers, stopped at BJs to get snacks for next week, and came home and walked Karal again. Then I drove to the University where I worked until 8 p.m. teaching a Capstone course. Of course, this morning I'm hitting the road for what I thought was going to be a vacation, but turns out to be a road trip between work obligations. But, I get 10 hours of car riding this week, and that means a new book. That's all the vacation I need for right now, plus, I get to see family in Syracuse for a couple hours on the weekend. 

Meanwhile, Colorado. 

This is the way things roll.

Ah, but back to Karal. I've told the boys I'm good with all terrains and mentorship except for relationships. Not good at them, am too selfish to maintain them, and I much prefer my isolation, bachelorhood, and randomness. I am a much better human outside of relationships.

Then, of course, there are the dogs. One at a time. Karal is a character...perhaps The Great Whatever's most amazing revenge: she's high maintenance, unpredictable, annoying, irksome, mischievous, sometimes loving, aloof, aggressive, hyper (hyper, and hyper), and routine. I've written before that I've never had anyone or anything so in love with me, and I guess I'm flattered, but her loyalty is also what creates her to be a $@#$@ around others. We've come to learn that Karal does not put on the obnoxious performance when I'm not around. It appears to be something I trigger in her when others are in my presence. She doesn't like to share me at all. So she seeks attention...competes for it, actually.

We're working on that. It's only been a year in my house and she's come a long, long way. It will be curious how she does at my parents the next couple of days when I fly to Denver. I imagine she'll be amazing - every dog is at the folks...it's the backyard and excessive biscuits. 

Okay, I'm hitting the road really early and it's me and Does My Body Offend You? as my choice book on audio. Karal in the backseat (okay, she'll jump to the front, guaranteed) and the debut novel by Mayra Cuevas and Marie Marquardt. So glad for the Gilly Segal and Kimberly Jones recommendation.

And we're off!

Down & Dirty. Phase One of a Three-Part Rennovation Plan Was Completed Yesterday. Thinking Next Phases Will Occur Next Year.

In my head, I live in the English garden of Barbara, the wonderful host who gave a home to Amy and me back when we studied at Cambridge. We arrived many weeks early, and chose to tour all of England, Ireland, and Scotland before our classes began, and Barb was one of our home-stays in the Northside of London. I loved afternoon tea and biscuits, but evening beers and fox-sightings. My goal will always be to have a fox and his family move under my shed forever and always. I'd put out a plate of food for him nightly, too. Barbara's garden was peaceful, calming, and always wonderful to sit, gather, and talk.

From 11 a.m. until 4 p.m. yesterday, we dug out several plants in the front, brought more from the backyard, and expanded the perennials forward by another 6 feet. My hope is to do the same on the other side of my porch, before expanding the backyard corner garden by 12 feet. It's doing excessively well, and everything needs to be split, divided, and spread - that's the love of gardening. You have a vision, you like your hands and legs in the dirt, you sweat excessively on 90 degree 

I was filthy, too. 

It was like I was mountain biking or competing in a Mudder 5K. Head to toe, I was covered in dirt and it felt great. Yes, I awoke at 6 a.m. and worked on University stuff until 11, but from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. I was garden-variety Bryan and I loved every second of it. I am thankful to Edem, too, because he doesn't break a sweat and he digs deeper than I can without Harvey the hernia popping out (yes, that's the name of #3...I am keeping him at bay, but I know he's there). 

Truth is, the bounty of these moves won't be known until next year, when things start growing back, but I think I made all the wise decisions. Lord knows I could give everyone in my neighborhood a Japanese Iris, and I'd still have enough to fully fashion my own yard (this is the result of a $2 buy from a lady a few streets over who gardens).

I'm also anxious to see how the herb garden goes of, and I'm determined to move the vegetable garden to the other side of the backyard. This requires time (which I don't have) and energy (which I quickly run out of after five hours of non-stop labor). 

Still, when I think of a spending a day of joy, I can think of fewer that aren't as happy as being in dirt. I just love it.