Here I am at my friend Norma's house in Cape Cod. The weather was hot the first few days (not Texas hot, but hot anyway) and now it's so cool that I'm wearing a long sleeve tshirt and being quite comfortable. I've eaten the correct amount of seafood and eaten the pizza I came for (Marc Anthony), and here I am quite content. I wish Jan could have come, but it was nice to just sit and visit with Norm and her wonderful family.

Child Abuse and TAKS

First of all, I went to the Domain here in Austin and played with the new Ipad. Sexy and, if you already have an Iphone, useless. Everything the Iphone does, and some things less, the Ipad does in spades. Jan wants one bad, and I was sorely temped.

Taks is coming and I want everyone to know that it's abuse of children and teachers, plain and simple. Let me explain, for those of you who have never had the pleasure of administering TAKS to every student in the 6th grade in Texas.

The morning starts with students all moving to the room they will be sitting in for the next 2 days. Some of the kids will have other tests after the TAKS. Woe be to anyone wanting data from those benchmarks. The kids will be totally fried by then. At the door, students will be asked to leave their cell phones and to dump their back packs and/or purses in a tub or back in their locker. They will be seated next to someone they don't want to talk to, because you don't want the kids to be talking to each other during the test. They will get handed their sheets and the "speech" will be given about how to take the test. They will start, and then the poor teacher will be forced to stare at the students all day. No reading, no doing a crossword, no anything. You can't really talk to the students, you can only (loudly, so that noone thinks that you are helping someone) tell students that they should work to the best of their ability, and that you can't tell them anything else. When students finish, they can only read or sleep. No talking, no note writing, even the bathroom is monitored for talking. At lunch, we all eat together in the room. As long as any students haven't finished, the entire school is on lockdown, or rather, test schedule. By the end of the day, the students hate you, because you've been such a grump and have kept them from talking, relaxing or having any kind of fun at all. Then you do it all the next day, again. By the end of two days, the students all wonder if you've lost your mind (which you have) and they can barely keep contained because they've been trapped on their butts for two days with little or no break. It's child abuse. And after the two days, I feel beaten down. And it's all happening at the end of April at a school near you. Feel for the kids. Give a teacher a beer.

It rained today. For someone in Seattle or Houston, rain is no big deal. It happens every afternoon so that the humidity stays at stifling, or so that the moss will grow on the big trees. In Austin, we have been in a drought so long, that every rain seems a blessing. Like a hot shower, or puppies that smell like puppies (dogs always smell like wet dog, but that is another blog). Todays rain was the perfect rain. Not drenching, not thundrey or lightningy, (two words that ought to be words) but a soft, slow rain that soaked everything pretty completely. My grass is finally green. I'm not worried about my trees anymore, or any trees anymore. I was really worried about the trees that didn't live with people. They really suffered! I don't even want to think about the animals that suffered. It was horrible enough that everytime I drove through the hill country, I saw more and more brown, dying trees. Thank God that is over, I think. So everytime it rains, think about us poor things here in Texas.

Teaching is such a learned gift. I can say that because some people can learn how to do this, if they have the gift. Some people learn quick, and others take longer. I was in the longer variety, because I couldn't understand the different learning styles thing, but after I figured that out, I was good. Unfortunately, there are those who don't have the gift, and no matter how hard they try, the children will just run over them, or not listen, or be too scared to even try. It's so hard to say exactly what makes a good teacher. It's impossible to say what makes a gifted teacher. It's one of these things that you know when you see it, you think "God, this gal/guy is great!". If someone could bottle it, I would buy a can or a bottle.

Generational dysfunction

I've looked at a couple of other peoples blogs. I'm beginning to notice a trend. The younger you are, the more pictures you have in your blog, and the more bells and whistles you have. The older you are, the more writing you have in your blog. There might be a few pictures, but next to the 20 somethings blogs, yours looks like a directions for putting together a grill and theirs looks like a brouchure for travel to a foreign land. I can tell which most people would rather read. Oh well...that's not why I'm doing this. When I figure out why I'm doing this...I'll let you know.

Still trying to figure this out.

I'm still trying to figure this blog thing out. There are several problems with this...first of all is the technology and the why. I've loved computers and what they can do since I touched my first Apple in the early 80's. My friend Norma bought one of the first Apples when she went to law school, and she let me learn to use it to help type papers. Having been a fan of the IBM Selectric (I still love Selectrics. The feel of the keys, the click of the ball moving around. If I could find a computer keyboard that felt as tight, I would buy one in an instant) it was hard to move to another type of keyboard. It's all about feel. But the idea that if I made a mistake, IT COULD BE CORRECTED INSTANTLY was such a big deal. Those of you who remember typing research or term papers know how big a deal it is (those of you who grew up with computers, give me a break. You'll never know the heart break of staying up all night typing a paper, and finding one mistake on a page that will require you to retype 1 or 2 pages AGAIN). So technology has been my friend forever, but having to climb over the lip of each new ledge of technology as it appears on the horizon has been a challenge. I guess it's kept my brain exercised. The other is why keep this when other people can look at this. When I kept my first journal, I didn't want anybody to see it. I hid it from my sisters and my parents and thought everyone was looking for it. When I reread it years from then, I was mortified by my juvenile thoughts and angst. This blogging technology is kind of the same thing, except that the whole idea is that everybody is supposed to find my cigar box and read my journal. This keeps me in the here and now, and keeps me from writing anything that might be too personal (those of you who know me might wonder what I think is inapropriate, you'd be surprised). I guess that's a good thing. The third thing is that it's been a long time since I've really written anything other than short bursts of mental stream of consciousness. I guess I've got to get back into the idea of writing for other people to read. I feel like I'm using rusty knives. Well, time to sharpen the edge. Ok. That's it for now, and if anybody knows or can help with this technology, let me know. I feel like I'm just starting something weird and new. Hang on.

I talked to a friend about writing a blog. I said he was wasting his talent. He's one of these guys that can think on his feet (you have to be able to do this if you are a teacher) and always has something witty and educated to say. Then I realized that I was also talking about myself. I will try this for awhile, like keeping a diary. I'll post the fun things that happen during the day and the thoughts I have while I go through my daily rituals. I hope it stays mildly entertaining, mostly to me, since I am the only one I ever think will read this.