Room 9

I love the start of school.

I really love seeing the apprehensive faces of the students as they walk in my room.

The 9 on the door greets them, reminding them they are new here, 9th graders. Nothing more than the youngest kids in the big pool of high school. The lowest on the totem pole. The bottom of the... Well, you get the idea.

They step into the room, backpacks full of clean sheets of paper and untouched BIC pens. They settle into their chairs and feel the cold composite material on their backs.

Their eyes glance around the room, looking for something familiar. But this is the first week of school. The walls are bare and sterile. 

Their eyebrows knit together and seem to call out, "Is this one of those teachers who makes us read long books?"

They fumble with their zippers on their backpacks and retrieve a blank piece of paper, wondering, "Will he make me write a lot?"

As they uncap the BIC pens, they let the pen touch the paper and whisper to themselves, "Will I have to learn a bunch of new words? The kind of words that don't make any sense to me?"

I smile down at the students, crack a joke, but the students remain silent. They uncomfortably look around the room, wondering if they are permitted to chuckle, laugh or even giggle in the Temple that is 9th Grade English.

Role is called and the students sheepishly call out, "Here!" when I butcher their names. But then, in the crowd, as I make a lame joke about the missing student on the list and his apparent painful, and torturous demise, I see it. A smile. The student lets his shoulders relax and he spots it. The faint curl of a grin at the edges of my mouth. He knows. And then it spreads. Like a cupcake sale in front of Jenny Craig, the students begin to figure out who I am. And I they.

And that's how the year starts.

Turning it in...

I will be laptopless for 24 hours, maybe even 96 hours. This scares me and makes me worried about my future.  Oh well, outside I will go.

Dreams...

For those of you who keep forgetting to look up my other blog, I just posted about a very intense dream I had last night. Check it out:

www.michael-shaw.blogspot.com

Weeds and thorns no more...

We have been working in the backyard for the past week. Prior to that, Westly and would water the lawn with a hose--he absolutely loved it. Every day for three weeks, the little Doodle and I would water it for about 10 minutes with the hose. He would laugh and splash in it and I would run around pulling weeds and telling him the dog next door was coming.

Fast forward three weeks to today:

Thanks to our friends, Kevin and Rebecca, we now have a new concrete patio where we can finally set out our table and chairs. They put us in contact with a guy who took on Phase 1 on our plans (Extending the fence and laying concrete). The last part of Phase 1 was getting our patio furniture from the abyss known as our garage. Phase 1... COMPLETE!

Phase 2 involves working on the planters, making a mini-sand box in a corner, getting a small slide, and re-seeding the yard. I am proud to say I started Phase 2 this morning by seeding just before the sprinkles started to pour down on my efforts (I'll stay positive by noting the seeds will be well watered thanks to God's humorous timing).

Phase 3 involves getting a little kiddy pool where we can store balls for West to kick and throw. In addition, I'd like to make a checkerboard a la Kaleb Baker. He made me one a few years back, and I'd like to have one in our yard for when guests come over.

Needless to say, I am excited.

Here's to giving Westly a place to play (and hopefully his Mama a break).

Pictures coming soon...