flea flickers,
bare knickers,
smooth rolls smooth brown,
once up,
then down,
pie pickers,
broken clickers,
earful by earful,
mandatory walk,
audio slave,
that cheap talk.

meteor shower

this is elementary childhood
safe and sound.
wooden meteors toppling
wooden towers.
hastily made and hastily pummelled.
smiles not seen
outside gradual release of priviledges.
ever defensive
always on the offensive.
the fight is with noone but
everyone.
this is elementary childhood
safe and sound.
pushing forward against boundaries
and bashfulness.
this bravado fall short
of masking
uncertainty.

Progress?

As educational gains are being measured by standardized tests more and more, it gets harder and harder to find measurable gains elsewhere. I have stated clearly and often that I put the connections I make with my students first, academics second. The students I work with have documented emotional disabilities and lack age-appropriate social skills. I believe it is pivotal to focus on teaching and modeling how to positively interact with adults and students. If my students do not feel safe and cared for in the classroom they will not be able to progress academically.

That being said, it is a struggle everyday to maintain connections as both a disciplinary figure and a role model, all while being responsible for delivering instruction. I pride myself in being able to strike a very effective balance of the 3, but admit shortcomings in all 3 as well.

All of this is leading up to an awesome breakthrough a student had the other day. To some, it may seem simple. Trivial. It is admittedly not a spectacular task in and of itself, but it is something this student couldn't do less than a year ago.

My students enjoy playing card games. UNO, skipbo, war, and they especially like a game named "phase10". It is a game that has 10 steps (phases) with a different collection of cards needed each round. Last year my student attempted to play phase10. She could not grasp the rules and quickly got frustrated when dealt shitty cards or left behind a round. She desperately wanted to play, but it was a constant inner battle to focus on learning how to play and quelling her building escalation. Over time she slowly learned how to play, requiring less and less guidance, but her emotions remained, causing the same setbacks.

Yesterday she successfully completed a full game with me. Smiling the whole time, talking and taking some verbal banter, appropriately and effortlessly. And in this game, I found measurable gains. I found indisputable proof that she has made progress, that what we are doing is positively affecting my most important objective; that students will be able to build meaningful social relationships and manage them with appropriate social strategies. She's not perfect by any means. But she's making progress. Unfortunately, MCAS will most likely not pick up on that.

vision skittles, optical oreos
eye candy, to each their own.
is it necessary to be eye-craving
sweet and regrettable
causing desire and resulting in lost promises.
unquestioned lack of balance
coupled with wrapper enzy.
name brand versus store brand
winner take all.
quality questioned but not proven
acquired taste perhaps.
look past foil and paper.
read ingredients.
allow a bite large enough for true
judgement.
chew and mull with time.
decision based upon feeling, one hopes.

grey skies met me as i opened the front door. stepping outside, closing the door and inhaling with a deep breath. the morning mist cooled my lungs.
the rain was light and it hung in the air. my first steps felt smooth and soon i found a comfortable pace. birds announced the morning. the trees were home to the concerto of shrill cries and tweets.
my head felt clear and i couldn't help but smile as i took a left turn off the road and onto a side path. the path was made up of bridges, mini bridges. about 10 feet long, about 1 foot wide, a few 2x6's side by side. my pace slowed as i made my way across 2,3,4,8 mini bridges.
beneath the bridges, waiting for a wayward step is mud, glossy with rainbow sludge. huge green fern leaves look like hands reaching up, hoping to catch breakfast and welcome it into their garden.
off the bridges and back on the damp trail, dodging slippery roots, landing softly on the balls of my feet. low hanging branches, leafless and skinny, tree fingers, are bobbed and weaved around.
coming out from the trees, across the road and back onto the path. the birds still singing my praises. a few longer strides get me safely over the railroad tracks. even with the constant reminder of bird calls, the morning is mine and only mine. everything that happens fuels me.
my legs begin to feel a bit of a burn. starting right above my knees and slowly making its way up my quads. steady my breathing, deep breath in. the mind more at ease. i am not the body, i am the soul.
turning a corner. a rabbit jumps out of the way, zigging, zagging, bobbing white tail acts as a beacon, allowing me to track it, picking its way through the brush.
my stride begins to lengthen and i begin to hit a good rhythm. back onto pavement, bike path offers me safety. just a few moments later i get a clear view of a pond. the tree sanctuary, half grown, mangled by beavers and storms.
the figures of the trees appear dark, moisture painting them black. the water is still, but ripples are able to occasionally find their way towards the edge. a heron, blue and grey, powerfully wings into view and then glides across the brown water. quickly it came, quickly it was gone.
i continue to pump my legs, moving me forward with an ease that surprises me and my legs. the breaths still come easy and the quiet flame in my legs reminds me i'm here, now. embrace the feeling, you are alive and well.
after finding my turnaround spot, i begin the glide back. i switch my eyes to the opposite side of the path. an easy, rolling view of hills, up and down, alive with grasses and bushes.
the feeling of lightness is still flowing through me, but i can sense a bit of a lag. i smile.

it's funny. 3 years later and i find myself staring out the same window. the same trees, same lawn, same road, digging for new inspiration. the screens on the window slightly distort everything on the outside. the crispness of the world blurred by wire mesh.
starting at the sky, the faraway blue, found only when no clouds can be spotted. the distance created by such a clear sky allows the trees to appear stronger, straighter. shadows lie about, imaginary tree footprints, amoeba like in shape.
a slight breeze winds its way through the leaves and they respond by dancing on the branches. rustling, shaking back and forth.
the branches stretch upward, always reaching for more light, jockeying for position amongst other sun-hungry limbs.
green grass, green leaves, green air. the darker greens lie about in the shadows, representing cool and comfortable. the leaves brighter in color, in direct sunlight, reflect nourishment and appear golden green.
rising above shorter trees, a fir tree presents its coat, a reminder of winter and warmth.


spotlight reversed, pointing out the dark spots
swaying, but gently blending
exhales move earth.
green mirrors show no self-reflection.
suspended field of green.
slanted branches create non-symmetrical
smiles, crooked, lips sealed.

doors shiny with carbonated focus.
youkilis lands at second with a double.
carpet brown rug rolls its tongue to
greet you, protect your soles.
you've lost champion status.
white floor piece surrounded, pull the pin.
two for one special.