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Spring Symphony Warm Up

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If you’ve ever been been to a concert and heard the orchestra warming up, you know you get little hints of what’s to come, but it hasn’t yet coalesced into a symphony.  That’s what I think of during the late winter mornings when the birds begin tuning their instruments. This morning, I walked out to my car and was struck by the ever-growing variety of song. Even those tough Maine birds that winter over were breaking their silence with vocal warm ups.

It hasn’t been a hard winter by any stretch of the imagination. El Niño has dampened the spirits of many of us snow lovers, and it has planted some inklings of spring fever early for an area of the country that is slow to cede winter.

For those who share my passion for ornithological acoustics, I offer my favorite feathered friend refrains…my special spring sound slices that sing me into my day.

Tufted Titmouse

Black-Capped Chickadee

Eastern Phoebe

Blue Jay

Downy Woodpecker

Dark Eyed Junco

Northern Cardinal

Red-Winged Blackbird

Song Sparrow

White-Throated Sparrow

House Sparrow

As spring unfolds, more and more birds will call Maine home and add their voices to the chorus. But I am always most grateful to these early serenaders for bringing me happiness and hope that the crunchy brown around me will be greening and growing once again. I am also SO grateful for this Slice of Life Challenge that has encouraged me to slow down, tune in, and notice what is going on around to me. Focusing on these small “slices” elevates my awareness of what is important enough in my life that I want to capture and preserve in words or images. I can only imagine the same experiences for my fellow slicers!

 

Books Are So Patient

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I know many of you are like me.  You have TBR (to be read) piles all about your house. I have one on my bed stand, one in my ‘office’, and another in the living room.  They never seem to shrink because for each that I read and remove, another one or two seem to layer the pile.

Sometimes I look at them almost apologetically.  “Sorry, I was going to read you next, but then this ARC came in the mail.” “I know you were on top, but Mr. Schu was just raving about this one.”  They just stoically sit there.  No hint of animosity or jealousy. Just one more reason why books make such great friends.IMG_4677

A few weeks ago Keisha*,  a 5th grader who loves talking about books with me asked, “Mrs. Bourque, what book should I read next?  What book do you really like?”  Now there are nearly a bajillion books I’ve read that I really like, but I immediately thought of my self at her age. “You know what book I read over and over when I was in elementary school? I loved this book so much.”  I grabbed a copy of Island of the Blue Dolphins.  “This was based on a true story and I just thought she was such a brave girl. I probably read it six times. I wonder what you would think of it.” Keisha hugged the book and headed back to her seat.

Last week Keisha came up to me with the book in her hands. “I didn’t get a chance to read it. I had this other book I was reading.  Sorry.”  I know she felt like she had disappointed me. “You don’t need to be sorry. That book isn’t going anywhere.  Anytime you feel like reading it, it’ll be waiting for you.  Books are so patient.”

She giggled. “Oh yeah? Cool!”

And another reading life keeps blooming.

Politics is Not a Dirty Word

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Yesterday I attended a caucus in my small town in Maine.  I wasn’t sure what to expect. Lately the political process has descended into this venomous proposition in which contempt and open hostility for “others” is condoned and even celebrated. Agreeing to disagree seems to be a flaw that is no longer acceptable. So when I walked in and saw various friends and acquaintances with Bernie buttons and Hillary stickers I wondered how our community politics would unfold.

We listened to candidates speak. Each getting enthusiastic applause. We attended to party business in selecting  our county officers and delegates. And then came the moment when we needed to stand up and walk to our corners of the room to physically announce our choice for presidential candidate.  As I saw friends stand, I tried to guess which direction they would move.  I knew demographically the younger ones would “Feel the Bern” and the older ones would “Stand With Hillary”.

I made my move and gazed about the room.  It was quiet and folks seemed to be making the same mental assessments as I was. Each “side” had a representative who came to speak for their candidate. To my great joy, there was no mudslinging.  No name calling. No belittling.  There was passion for their candidate and a warm embrace for their ‘opposition’. There was applause from all sides of the room after each speech. There was agreement that we were blessed with two wonderful candidates and did not have to “choose between the lesser of evils”.

I thought about David Brook’s NYTs editorial The Governing Cancer of Our Time in which he said, “Politics is an activity in which you recognize the simultaneous existence of different groups, interests and opinions. You try to find some way to balance or reconcile or compromise those interests, or at least a majority of them. You follow a set of rules, enshrined in a constitution or in custom, to help you reach these compromises in a way everybody considers legitimate.”

That is exactly what I was seeing before my eyes. This was politics as it should be. Those on the other side of the room were not my rivals.  They were not wrong.  I was not right. The heads were counted and a ‘winner’ emerged.  There was subtle applause and then we all mingled again.  Hugs. Handshakes. “See you tomorrow”s.

As David Brooks went on to say, “Politics is in retreat and authoritarianism is on the rise worldwide. The answer to Trump is politics. It’s acknowledging other people exist. It’s taking pleasure in that difference and hammering out workable arrangements.”  I no longer think of politics as a dirty word. It’s messy and sometimes disappointing, but it doesn’t have to be vitriolic and hateful. If more people, other than the angry and frustrated,  were a part of our politics we would more easily hammer out workable arrangements and bring civility back to the process.  I didn’t really want to caucus today. I just wanted to vote. But if I had stepped into that booth by myself, voted, and left I would not have witnessed what is good in politics. What it can be. What we need it to be.

 

Oh, in case you were wondering…

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Morning Devotions at My Caffeine Temple

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IMG_4545Stumble steps, avoiding pets

Paws and noses tripping threats.

Shuffle feet across the floor,

Cranium kissed in headline lore

Mornin’..love you.

Love you, too.

Make my way to caffeine brew.

Grab my mug, pour the joe,

Cup is filling, way too slow.

While I wait my eyes alight,

Images splashed with morning light

Memories, precious history,

Ripened fruit from  family tree.

Countenances cede me joy

My precious girl and baby boy.

Each morn I gaze at photos here,

So memories never disappear.

Frozen, static always young.

A visual reveille that’s sung.

I sip, pause and stare awhile,

Embrace the day with grateful smile.

Books CAN Change Lives

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I’m driving this Saturday morning to a National Board workshop, sipping my coffee and listening to NPR when my ears perk up… “Pat Conroy, adopted son of the South Carolina low country has died. The novelist who wrote nearly a dozen books, including “The Prince Of Tides” and “The Great Santini,” was 70. Just last month, he announced he had pancreatic cancer.”

Oh, crap. No more words will ever flow from that gifted man’s pen.  The cathartic characters he created in the Prince of Tides and the Great Santini still frequent my thoughts from time to time. The courage it must have taken to write stories so close to home is inspiring. What a loss to the world. I whisper a little prayer.

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They play an interview from 2010. He reflects on his memoir My Reading Life. He remembers his mother, Peg, who told him, “books could change lives – they were like friends that could be counted on in a childhood spent moving from Marine base to Marine base”.

I think about how Conroy’s “friends” had such a profound influence on his life.  And it was a rough life.  His father was a tough marine and a brutal man.  As Conroy revealed, “Dad would not hit you if he saw you reading. He thought you were studying. And it was the one time – you know, one place you could go to get away from his fists. And it worked every time.”

I thought about  my students with incredibly difficult lives.  I know for a fact, many find solace in the books they read. They find “friends”. This is one of the many realizations that drives my passion for creating literate lives for every one of our students. Books CAN change lives. They changed Pat Conroy’s.  His went on to change others’.

I scroll through mental images of several students that I’d like to talk to more this week. I feel compelled to check in on their reading lives. I know for some, this will be the only window into their personal lives they allow any light to shine through. I want them to find those books that speak to them, inspire them, change them.

I know we can do this. One reader, one book at a time.

 

 

Who Did the Learning Today?

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I stood in front of the 4th grade classroom yesterday afternoon, discussing historical fiction.  I’ve been collaborating with their teacher and she told me many students were struggling with writing their own historical fiction stories. I used a graphic organizer to plan and rehearse my own story-circa 1982. I talked about what life was like the year I graduated from high school and the kids were stunned to hear we had one lonely computer in my school with a green display and no internet! They laughed when I talked about ‘big hair’ and how girls would tease it to get that volume.  I advised them, “If you don’t know much about the period of history your story is set in, it’s going to be more difficult.  Try to pick a time in history where you could picture yourself and life around you.”

The children were sharing their time periods, most had chosen historically significant times that they had previously studied.It was then that I noticed several of our ELL students weren’t sharing. I realized when I said history, it was universally American History that the other students were considering. These children were from Iraq, they barely knew anything about our language, how could I expect them to know our history? I asked their teacher if I could pull them over to a table together.

I began, “Can you think of a time in history that you know quite a bit about?”

Azfar* smiled, “1982?”

I laughed, “Oh yeah? What do you know about 1982?”

“Big hair?”

I should’ve seen that coming!  I started again.  “Historical fiction are stories. They tell stories about  a person in a different time. We get to see what life was like for them at that time.  We see how that person has a problem that they have to solve. (We’d been focusing on this conflict/resolution idea in narratives) It can be a long time ago, but maybe it can be a short time ago. Maybe a story about a boy living in Iraq. Maybe a story about a girl moving to America.  Can you write a story like that?”

“Or move to Turkey?” Ameena* asked.

“Yes! You can tell about the problem your character solved when they moved to Turkey.”

Azfar offered, “My friend move Jordan. It bad.  Bad words. Bad fight.”

I tried to clarify, “He moved to Jordan or away from Jordan?”

“He move to Jordan. Not good. He America now. He name Musa.”

It’s still not clear to me, but Mohamed has a story he wants to tell. I know all of these children have stories they want to be able to tell. I can’t imagine having ideas, and stories in my head with no way to communicate them.

“Can you write a story about a boy like Musa? Can you tell us some problems that boy can have?”

“Problem?  Eh, like what problem?”

I try to think of universal problems all children have and not just refugees. “Sometimes when we are new to a place, we do not have any friends yet. That can be a problem. Can you tell us how Musa makes new friends?”

Azfar nods, “Ahhh. Yes. I can do this.”

I notice Ayusha* watching this exchange. She has a big smile on her face. She reaches over and hugs me.  “I will be your friend.”

I melt. Class dismissed.

 

*I did not use the students’ real names to protect their anonymity.

 

Bollywood Nights

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I’m a dancer. I am a dancer strictly by definition, “a person who dances.” I am a dancer the way I am a cook. I do it, but no one is raving over my talent! I am a dancer because of my daughter. SHE is a dancer beyond the dictionary definition. She has talent.

My husband and I are sometimes baffled by this. We were both jocks. When I was young we didn’t have a girls’ basketball team at my school so I played on the boys’ team.  (I’d like to tell you they welcomed me with open arms-but perhaps that’s another “slice” to share). My recesses were spent playing kickball and softball with boys.  I wanted to be the first female outfielder for the Cubs. I loved all-things-sports.

Then we had our beautiful daughter, Bailey, and I thought, she’ll love sports.

She hates sports.

Oh, she tried them. She’d cartwheel down the basketball court, twirl around in the outfield, and sashay down the soccer pitch. And then she would go to her tap/ballet class and be in her element. Over the years I’d watch (through teary eyes) and wonder How does she DO that?

Her dance studio offers adult classes as well, and a few years ago I decided I wanted to experience what my daughter loves. I signed up for Bollywood because no prior dance experience was necessary. I felt incredibly uncoordinated and inept. I had to think about how to move my body -something I hadn’t given a smidge of attention to for years.  I was hooked. A year later Bailey joined the class and it took on a whole new meaning for me.  I was a part of something my daughter loved.

Bailey

Last night as we were bhangra bopping across the studio floor, I was reminded that these nights are numbered. Bailey is a senior in high school, and I each month, week, and day with her becomes more and more precious. I watch her glide and leap and try to soak up every move and tuck it away for those lonely nights ahead. I smile in my heart when I watch her giggle and joke with her friends. This is joy. This is precious. This is fleeting. I couldn’t stop myself from randomly hugging her several times during class. I’m sure she wondered, What’s up with that? But she didn’t say much. Perhaps he’s just used to it. Perhaps she understands.

I’m glad this Slice of Life Challenge has me examining the small moments in my life this month.  They are so often taken for granted, until you know that they are numbered.  My Bollywood nights will be slices I want to always remember.

 

Mesmerizing Magic Made My Day

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My slice today is actually several similar slices. You see, it’s Read Across America Day and I have the perfect excuse for doing one of my favorite things in the world: reading aloud to kids.  I found myself invited (or self-invited) into classrooms from kindergarten to sixth grade with books that were both Seussical and non. I’m not sure who enjoyed these read alouds more, but it was a rush!

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Wolfie The Bunny

I began with my kindergarten friends. When I introduced a book  as, “one of my very favorite books from a very fun author”, they peppered me with “What is it? What is it?” As I held it up they cried, “He’s not a bunny! He’s a wolf!”  I answered, “I know!  That’s what Dot is trying to tell her family! Let’s see what happens!” They wrapped their blankets around their jammie-clad legs and snuggled up on their pillows while I brought Wolfie to life for them. They sat captivated, their emotions conveyed by an emerging smile or widening eyes. Not a peep except for the invitations for audience participation.

I paused on the last page, letting the message and finality of the story sink in.  And of course, what is the first thing out of most kindergartners mouths after a story?  “Read it again!” I promised I would be back to read this and others, and when I asked them “What would you like to tell Ame Dyckman about her story?” almost all said, “She should write another one!” They wanted Wolfie at Christmas, Wolfie in Summer, Wolfie at  Halloween …basically a Wolfie for all seasons!

In room after room, I experienced such a similar audience captivation. I loved creating voices for characters, and pausing to let images and ideas saturate their minds. And all the while, I doubt that a motion sensor would have been triggered by these stilled listeners.  Between pages, I would look out at their faces and see them transfixed, frozen mid-scene. This is like magic I thought, no…like hypnosis!

I can’t show you the faces (I need to protect their privacy) but I bet you can transpose the sweet countenances of your own cherubs onto these heads. It is the look of enchantment, and the only charm needed was a wonderful book.

The Lorax
Mother Bruce
Last Stop on Market Street

So thank you, to Ame Dykman (Wolfie the Bunny), Theodore Geisel (The Lorax), Ryan T. Higgins (Mother Bruce) and Matt De La Pena (Last Stop on Market Street) for sharing your charms.  You helped me mesmerize our students in magical ways and made these slices of my day so memorable!

#SOL16-Day 1

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My blog is going to look considerably different this March.  Rather than posting once a week or so about educational topics in which I feel passionate, I am taking part in the Slice of Life Challenge for the entire month of March.  (#SOL16)  I wasn’t going to do it. I wondered if I could keep that commitment to post writing on my blog for each of the next 31 days. It’s not like I had too much free time on my hands: I’m working on my National Board certification, preparing workshops for out of state districts on Close Writing, preparing workshops in-district for formative assessments/feedback and writing, creating newsletters for the Maine Literacy Council, reading 4-5 middle grade novels a week, and carving out time with my active teenagers. But I thought to myself, I write every day, so why not take the challenge? It’ll be a lot like the time I spent writing my book, but with a lot less pressure to make it meaningful for others!

I am a huge fan of The Two Writing Teachers (although they are numbering about 7 these days!) Stacey Shubitz has always been an inspiration to me and I really wanted to be a part of her tribe on this.  As she states on the blog “The mission of this online challenge was to support teachers who wanted to write daily. The purpose was to create a community of teacher-writers who could better support the students they serve in writing workshops daily.” So Stacey, (and Anna, Betsy, Elizabeth, Dana, Tara, Deb, Kathleen,  ) thank you for organizing this challenge and encouraging so many writing teachers to be writing teachers. You “walk the talk” and I am incredibly impressed each time I read your blog posts.

So for the next month I will be more aware and reflective of the small moments in my life. I am ready to see what I will discover about myself as a writer, a teacher, a coach, a mom, a wife, a friend, a human…as I tune in, reflect, and capture a slice of life each day for the next 30 days.  I apologize to subscribers who don’t follow my blog for this purpose- feel free to “unsubscribe” if it’s not your cup of tea -but subscribe again April 1st!

For anyone who would like to take the challenge themselves, you can do so HERE.

If you miss my What’s On My Book Radar…you can follow my reading on Goodreads or my Facebook album for the month.

Enjoy another slice!

Love it? Say it! Share it!

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This week’s post is a recycled theme. I’ve previously written about the importance of sharing our “Book Love”, but the more authors I get to know, the more passionate I feel about this. The books we love don’t just appear. There is a hardworking author who chose every single one of those words that we are savoring! I frequently see posts on social media where they comment on how a review, tweet, or fan letter has touched them or inspired them.  When you work for months or years, all alone, pouring your heart into a piece of writing, you hope that it is meaningful to some reader out there. Well, dear readers, let’s show them if it is!

I know many who do.  There is a whole nerdy nation of readers who are passionate about books and authors.  One of the biggest tribes is the Nerdy Book Club . Here they are always sharing their love of books and love for their writers. But what are some other avenues readers can take to spread their appreciation for the writers who gift us their words?

Here are a few ways I have tried.

Last year one of my favorite authors, Gae Polisner, (The Pull of Gravity, The Summer of Letting Go, and on Sept. 6 The Memory of Things) reminded me, as I read her blog, about the importance of book reviews to authors. Click below.

Tuesday Feedback: A Little Conversation about Book Reviews Starring YOU

Her message was that authors need us to keep them in the public eye.  Sharing our favorite books on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, or Tumblr will inform our friends and followers.  But how can we expand our Book Love beyond our relatively small circle?  How can we support those authors we love so they can continue their writing careers and bring us even more Book Love??

Our reviews on sites like Goodreads will certainly expand our influence and love, but sites like Amazon have a much stronger impact for sales of books.  THAT is the ultimate way we support our favorite authors.  Love a book?  Let others know!! Don’t know how to post an Amazon review?  Go here.  Don’t worry about sounding like an editorial reviewer from Kirkus, New York Times, Booklist, or School Library Journal. The length and quality aren’t as important as the willingness to do it! Here are a few quick tips for posting reviews for the books you love!

  • (This book) is about brief synopsis (but I think it’s really about)what it means to you. (Your review  doesn’t require a complete retelling-editorial reviewers have already done that! What is this book about for YOU?)
  • If you like_____________this book is for you! Who would like this book?  Who would be a target audience? Why would they enjoy it?
  • I really liked ______________ . Were the characters compelling?  Was the writing engaging?  Was it humorous? Suspenseful? Realistic? Heartwarming? Mention one or two things about the book that made it memorable for you.
  • Mention the author’s name (and illustrator).  Remind readers of the person behind those words who pounded out that plot, those characters, that dialogue, those facts and worked their bums off. Books don’t just happen, someone dreams them and brings them to life-we need to honor that!

THAT’S IT!  Sure you could do more or less.  You could write a review any way you want. Check out how kids do it at The Spaghetti Book Club! The big idea isn’t HOW?…it’s WHEN?!!  When will you take a few minutes and go to the independent or big box bookstore or  the website where you purchased your copy and leave a quick, but important review?  We want to keep this authors “employed” and creating the books we love!

What if I can’t afford to buy the book?  No worries.  I try to be a book patron as often as possible, but my local library knows me by my first name.  I check out dozens and dozens of books a month.  I always make sure to tell the librarian about the books I love the most and that ensures they’ll be recommended to other patrons.  As I said, I’ve also been known to leave a post-it note or note card sticking out to grab readers’ attention, “Hey!  You should check _______ out!  You’ll love it!”

So now that you’ve read my soapbox spiel – click on over to Amazon and post a review for one of your favorite authors!  They deserve it!

What’s On My Book Radar?

Screen Shot 2016-02-27 at 9.00.11 AMSince the day I read A Snicker of Magic by Natalie Lloyd, I knew I would pre-order any other book she would publish. Some writers help you visualize, Natalie makes you feel!  She creates characters that you want to befriend (or adopt!) Her writing is almost lyrical. I find myself rereading lines to taste them tripping across my tongue! Some may call it folksy, I find it charming.

The Key to Extraordinary  did not disappoint!! It is a joy to read. It is filled with imagery like this:

“If God had a stethoscope, and if He held it up to this part of the dreary world to check for a heartbeat, I hope these are the sounds He’d hear: The sound of boots stomping rhythms out of the dust. The sounds of happy squeals and laughter when people spin out, nearly dizzy from joy. The sound of a scratchy voice, a thumping guitar, a plucky violin.  That’s what pure joy sounds like.”

When I came home from school last night and saw this book sitting on the kitchen counter, I ripped it open and dove right in.  Part of me wanted to slow down and savor it, but I just couldn’t. As I got into it, I was compelled to see what Emma’s Destiny Dream was, and how it was going to be realized. I wanted to see if the mysterious boy would ever speak again.  I had to know if they could save their family bakery, the Boneyard Cafe.  I was curious if the ghosts in their backyard cemetery were real. I needed to know what the key in her dream unlocked!

If you love stories with multi-generational families, compassionate characters, traditions, and eccentricity,  I think you will love it, too!  The Key to Extraordinary is extraordinary. It will satiate a hunger you didn’t even know you had!