The Santa Question

Ohhhh boy. Break out the eggnog, because I have a Christmas-themed problem.  I am trying to raise my daughter to be empathetic and compassionate, and fortunately, that finally seems to be bearing some fruit. One way that I've tried to encourage her to think about and do for others is by participating in an annual toy drive at my school.  I take her to Target, and she picks out a nice toy to donate.  I have explained to her that some children aren't as fortunate as she is, and that their families don't have enough money to buy Christmas presents.  Since we can help, I tell her, we do.  It's a small gesture, but I hope it has an impact. Well, clearly it doesn't.

Value Added

Today, in the middle of a staff development session that I was leading, we got the email that we dreaded and feared: the EVAAS numbers were out.  What the hell does that mean, you may ask? It means that teachers across North Carolina got to see their "value-added summary"--the measure of how we affected our students over the course of the last school year.  Supposedly, what a teachers give to their students can be figured mathematically.  If you've ever had a good teacher--or a bad one, for that matter--you know ridiculous that is.

According to EVAAS, my students met expected growth.  This pretty much means that, on the whole, they did exactly what the mathematical formulas said that they would do.  I didn't actively harm them, but I didn't help them to do better than they were predicted to do, either.  Based on these results, I am an average, middle-of-the-road, mediocre teacher.  The results, of course, are based on test scores, which in my opinion are the least interesting thing about any of my students.  Fortunately, I don't take these things too seriously.  I care deeply about how I affect my students, but I just can't put that much stock in one test.

Travel Journal: July 19, 2013

Edinburgh to Skye

Lou and I are on our way to Skye!  Last night we ate dinner at the Phuket Pavilion--delicious--and walked around a bit.  I didn't want to venture too far from the hostel in case we got lost.  Wandering through a city--one of my favorite activities--is a little more fraught with a small child. Getting lost is no longer fun and carefree; it's a pain in the ass at best and dangerous at worst.

Travel Journal: July 18, 2013

Edinburgh

Charlotte and I just arrived in Edinburgh.  We had a great last couple of days in Sussex: swimming in the ocean, dinner at the Lobster Pot, shopping and a cream tea in Chichester. Anna cooked pasta for dinner last night, and then Charlotte and I went for a last walk along the prom.  The scene was beautiful but odd: the sea and the sky were the same pale, hazy blue.

Travel Journal: July 15, 2013

Felpham, UK

Saturday: We went to dinner at Anna's acupuncturist's house.  Charlotte said it was "fancy, like a rich person's house."

Sunday: We went for a swim on Felpham Beach, and it was perfect.  No waves, clear as glass.  Walking on rocks, though, is not so good.  Fortunately, Charlotte and I got beach shoes, so that helped.  Then we had a proper Sunday roast lunch with Anna's mother, Wendy, who is just lovely.  We ate in the garden, which was really beautiful. We're lucky to have had such warm, sunny weather--apparently, it's very unusual.

Travel Journal: July 13, 2013

Felpham Village, Bognor Regis, UK

We are having a fantastic time at Anna's!  Her house is lovely and just a short walk from the beach.  Charlotte loves it because some of the rocks on the beach are chalk. She likes to spot them and then use them to write on the pavement.  The weather is mild and sunny--we're really enjoying it.

Travel Journal: July 10, 2013

*Note: Because I don't have the patience to type a ton of text on an iPhone, I'm transcribing my travel journal.  The following entries were written while we were in the UK; I have edited down the number of exclamation points in the original so that you don't think I'm an easily excitable moron.

London, Seven Dials Hotel

Finally in London again!  This first day has actually been a little rough.  We had an overnight flight, and, all things considered, Charlotte slept pretty well.  Still, she probably only slept for about four hours--not quite enough! Our flight was delayed, so things didn't go quite as I had planned. (That's what I get for trying to be organized. I should know better than to go against the natural order of things.) The plan was to reach the hotel, drop off our bags, head out to the British Museum, have lunch, and then explore Covent Garden before meeting my friend John in the City for dinner.  We lost out on a couple of hours due to the delays, and then we had a hellish time finding our hotel.  Charlotte, I must say, was a total trouper.  We must have walked for about 45 minutes (at least!) trying to find it, Charlotte pulling her little suitcase all the while.  She was starving and low on sleep, but she didn't complain.  I was impressed and, frankly, surprised.  She would have been perfectly justified in melting down right there on the sidewalk.

An open letter to the NC State Legislature

Hey, NC Legislature:

Let's get one thing clear before I start: I love North Carolina.  I was born in Charlotte, grew up in Red Springs, got degrees at UNC Greensboro and UNC Pembroke, got married in Lumberton, and am teaching in a public school and raising a child in Fayetteville.   I love the mountains, the beaches, the barbecue.  I love Ben Folds and The Avett Brothers.  I believe my NC bona fides are well established.  So it makes me sad--sad and angry--to see what my state is becoming.  Once, NC had the reputation of being one of the more progressive southern states, the good Carolina--forward-looking, not crazy.  But now...not so much.  It seems that the majority of you in the state legislature is more interested in taking extreme ideological stands than you are in doing good for your constituents.  Yes, that's right, your constituents: despite your wishful thinking, the people protesting your actions are doctors, clergy, teachers, voters, taxpayers in this state.  Rather than writing them off as out-of-town interlopers, you would do well to listen to them.  You represent them--act like it.

Getting ready...

I don't know if taking a six-year-old to another country for almost two weeks is a great idea or a terrible one, but here goes. I'm trying to plan everything I can in advance to avoid any last-minute freakouts. First up: packing. My original idea was to pack one big bag for the both of us, so that I could have one hand on the bag and one hand on the child at all times. However, I've rethought this. Now the plan is to pack a carry-on for each of us: no waiting around at the airport, no worries about lost luggage. Besides, if Charlotte is old enough to travel with me, she's old enough to schlep her own bag. Packing for her should pose no problem; she and her stuff are very small. The only hiccup will be what to do about Hippo and Piggie. She sleeps with both of them in a headlock every night, but we won't have the space to pack them both. She's going to have to make a Sophie's choice, and I predict tears and recriminations.

Stuff I Like

My current interests and obsessions:

TV via Netflix

• The Book Group: Glaswegians (and some non-Glaswegians) talk about books, have affairs with each other, and eat poppy-seed cake without proper authorization. The cast includes Anne Dudek (House, Big Love), Rory McCann (Game of Thrones), and Henry Ian Cusick (Desmond from Lost!). Someone, please start watching this--I have no one to discuss it with!
• Bramwell: The exploits of a female doctor in Victorian London.  I am so glad  I don't live in Victorian London.

Working My Nerves

My beloved Sassy used to have a recurring feature called "Working Our Nerves"; I'm picking up the baton.

I avoided getting political after the election.  My guy won, and there was no need to gloat.  But damn, craziness abounds. People are floating some straight-up ridiculous stuff. I don't comment when it's posted on Facebook because I use that site to keep up with people and talk about what I'm watching on Netflix, not to get into arguments.  It's silly and pointless.  Still, it's reached the point where I have to say something.  Here's the deal: Barack Obama is a Democrat, and a centrist one at that.  He is not a Nazi, and if you think that he is, or that he's anything close to that, you are contributing nothing of worth to the discussion.  All you are doing is a fostering an environment in which disagreeing with someone means distrusting him at at best and hating him at worst.  We should strive for respectful disagreement; spewing venomous bullshit isn't helping anything. And don't accuse me of being a hypocrite for calling this stuff venomous bullshit: that's what it is.  There is not an effective synonym for bullshit in the English language; I've tried finding one to no avail.