Into the Wild Wood and Home Again

Today's the day. Do or die.  Well, it's not that earth-shattering, but my students will be the first ones ever in Lisbon's history to take the AP Lit exam.  Then we'll have to wait until July for results.  Agh.  In the meantime, though, I'll have gutted classes (kids taking AP exams for other courses) here and there over the next week. We will do what we can, but mostly, it'll be marking time. Which, to be honest, I don't care one iota. We are continuing on with The Odyssey in Creative Writing, then moving immediately into drama. And in AP Lit, we'll be finishing up poetry, then moving into drama there, too. All plays, some on video, some read aloud in class.  And NO ONE IS GONNA GIVE A DAMN. Except me, of course. So, maybe we can lighten up and have a little fun.  Next Wednesday, my AP Lang kids will have to confront the hydra that is the AP exam-- I am hoping that they practice in the meantime. It's not an easy test. None of them are, but I've ...

I don't know if it's my usual imposter syndrome rearing its ugly head and butting into my teaching life (usually it's restricted to my writing), but I will be so darn glad when the AP tests are all done. For better or worse, it will have ended. I know I'm a good teacher, but these tests are looming over everything I say and do, forcing me to make decisions I'm not as sure about... ugh. And this is why I didn't want to ever do AP. I don't fully believe in it. There are good things that have come out of it, such as a laser focus on the why of things when it comes to analysis, but geez. And the kids don't seem to give one minute of care to it.  They don't care. And that makes me both sad and angry. Maybe a few do, but even so, their attitude is one of "o well, we'll give it a shot, probably gonna suck"-- and yes, that is likely the result for a lot of them. And honestly, one test (or even all of them) will not determine their lives in any...

Monday, 32 degrees. Back to work...  Today, we'll see if any of the kids want to review for next week's AP Lang exam. I will try to help them, but seriously-- I feel like I'm working a helluva lot more than they are.  But that's beside the point. I have my own "to-do" list:  write a book review start gathering poems to work on a full collection manuscript think about what "next steps" I want for myself as a person and as a writer I think part of why I'm feeling so out of balance is because I've invested a ton of time into the teaching gig this year, and add to it I've had a lot of "Holly time" (which is good, but it's time spent), and I have not carved out any meaningful time for me to write, read, or just be . It's critical to my mental well-being to have some quiet time, and to be honest, I'm kind of looking forward to the hour between when I get home and when I have to pick up Holly today. Having G home for the we...

Rainy Sunday.  Maybe it'll clear a bit later-- sure hope so, because this is dreary. We had a glorious week weather-wise until the weekend, of course.  Celtics lost (I don't follow basketball, but still), Bruins lost (sigh), Red Sox are on life support. The weather matches the collective mood, I guess. Still, the daffodils are drinking it all in, the grass is glowingly emerald, and the birds are flitting around in the lilac hedge, playing hide and seek with the new leaves.  There, I switched the tone of the post. lol  Because it's Sunday, and vacation week is over, I am thinking about what's up next for my classes. Tomorrow, the AP Lit kids will be watching a version of Hamlet . They will be a/ disengaged and on their laptops, no matter if I tell 'em to shut them, b/ sort of watching, but talking about sports, prom, or lunch. A select few will watch. They will all have a written response to do, and some will do well, and others will be clueless. Nothing much is goin...

May Eight years since my mother died. Four since my dad died. We buried them both in the month of May. Four since I've seen my sister in person (her choice). Eight since I've seen my aunt and uncle.  My family buries itself over and over again.

I read Ada Limon's farewell address as Poet Laureate of the United States yesterday; I took notes (no surprise there), and I'll be working on a short review/reflection about it soon. Suffice it to say, it is lovely, cogent, and addresses the things that hurt right now.  I binge-watched four of the six episodes of a Netflix series called The Chair last night, at the suggestion of a dear friend. The premise is good: the main character, played by Sandra Oh, is a relatively young chairperson of an English department in a small college. She is tasked with essentially herding the old faculty, while trying to keep the younger ones on a tether, while trying to raise enrollment and engagement in the humanities--the existence of her department depends on this balancing act. Her efforts are complicated by her own family issues with an elderly father and an adopted daughter who keeps running off and/or getting into her own trouble. In short, chaos on the daily. I'm particularly drawn ...