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Showing posts from November, 2013

Open Up

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Between the time the John Kennedy was murdered while riding in a Dallas motorcade on a Friday and the following Sunday when the nation watched his flag draped casket carried through the streets of the nation's capital, two other significant events of that three day span took place.   The murder of Lee Harvey Oswald, the alleged assassin took place LIVE on national TV and, of course, Lyndon Johnson was sworn in as the next president all happened within hours of each other. I recall wanting to stay in front of the TV every second but my stern father wouldn't allow that.  It was Saturday, the day after the assassination and there were leaves to rake, lawns to mow, and with no football games (at least college games) time to complete some tasks that had long been overlooked.  Maybe it was because my parents had seen the death of a president before, even an assassination attempt on Truman's life, that they tried to avoid the 24/7 media coverage.  I, however, could not.  I kept s

Passing Period

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Mr. Carpenter walked slowly toward the speaker on the wall.  He hopped up on the small stage in the front of his classroom and waited for the tinkling xylophone intro to stop.  The sound, similar to the NBC station identification was a calm way to get attention.  But announcements had ended in period 2.  This was period 3 and from the look on Mr. Carpenter's face, something unscheduled was about to go down.  After a few microphone clicking sounds, we heard the voice of Mr. Taylor, our beloved Principal.  Uncharacteristically, he stammered, cleared his throat, and began. "This morning, the President of the United States has been shot while traveling in a motorcade in Dallas, Texas.  He has been taken to a hospital in critical condition.  Further details are not available at this time.  We will keep you informed as the day progresses." Mr. Carpenter's face drained white.  He said nothing.  We said nothing.  Then we slowly went back to our grammar books.  More sente

Diagram This

Mr. Carpenter was my 11th grade English teacher.  Actually, it's wasn't called English that year.   The official name for the class was Language Skills.  We did very little writing and reading in favor of diagraming sentences.  We seriously diagramed sentences.  there was a little portable chalk board on a small stage that was in the front of the classroom.  Mr. Carpenter would step up on the little stage after taking roll at his desk off to the left.  He'd roll the little chalkboard out so the class could easily see it and have a sentence already written for us to dissect. The only other thing I recall about that class, save what I'm about to write now, is that we worked out of a grammar book most of the time.  I had my book covered with brown paper that had once held groceries.  Homework and classwork came out of that book.  It was language skills incarnate. Mr. Carpenter was the Junior class sponsor.  He was fairly popular, youthful, probably gay, and for the mos

That Year

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The programs are starting.  Small nightly pieces in the national news and major documentaries on everything from Public Broadcasting to CNN.  I can't even imagine what Faux News will do.  It's the 50th anniversary of the Kennedy assassination.  Time to re-set the conspiracy theories, the shortcomings of the Warren Report, and complete the "where were you when" statements. One think I've noticed is that every year there are fewer and fewer people who recall the moment.  That's natural, but I did see an interview with the Dallas cop that was escorting Lee Harvey Oswald when he was intercepted and killed by Jack Ruby.  The guy looks great for his age and even admitted he gave little thought to the fact that people would remember him or the event they way they do 50 years later. I'm in the process of recalling that day as best I can.  In doing so, I've begun to look at the year 1963 itself.  What jumps out for me so far is how many remarkably significant

Inevitable

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As this century progresses, I see various vestiges of the last one drop away every day.  More and more electric devices replace every interaction.   I'm not sure it's all gloom and doom, but I do worry about how human interaction is diminishing.  The irony, of course, is that as we get more connected, we actually don't. If my experience today is any indication of this brave new world, then I've seen the future a bit more and possibly a bit clearer. I like t read a newspaper in the morning.  I could go online, but I actually like to hold it in my hands, fold it, do the crossword with a pen, look at the sports page and letters  to the editor.  In my town it's even more difficult to get a newspaper.  It's down to 3 days a week for home delivery, and the number of boxes on the street is dwindling.  When you do find one, pray that it works or that there is even one of the few they put inside daily left. I decided I'm going down with that ship.  I'm going t

Model Lesson

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It's been 7 years since I've taught a high school class from beginning to end.  There have been a few teacher writing workshops at conferences, and a couple of co-teaching moments in the classrooms of the student teachers I've supervised, but nothing bell to bell. That might end in a few weeks.  In my role as a mentor teacher, I occasionally have an opportunity to model a lesson.  Trouble is, most of the first year teachers I mentor don't live close enough to me to make that possible.  One is in Alaska, another in Montana.  Still another is on the Oregon coast in a small town, and a few others have been less enthusiastic about seeing the old man in action. This year might be different.  I've been mentoring a first year teacher close to home.  Well, fairly close to home. A recent study I read revealed that mentor teachers modeling a lesson and then possibly co-teaching it with the beginning teacher was rated one for the most useful things a mentor could do.  It pr

We Hardly Knew

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In a few weeks we will acknowledge the 50th anniversary of the Kennedy assassination.  Thousands of books and hundreds of conspiracy theories later, that day, that event, that moment in time continues to be the defining experience (albeit a tragedy) for my generation. In thinking about that day, how it began and ended, I realize that my recollections are all filtered through the mind of an adolescent.  Yet November 22, 1963, and the weekend that followed proved to be the tipping point for the remainder of my life. I will recall that day and the days that followed another time.  As the anniversary nears, and even more books and made for TV movies surface, the Kennedy administration with all it' mythology and curiosity provides a crucial background with which to assess the current political scene. Today, we see democracy threatened in so many ways.  The rise of the Plutocrat, the huge disparity in wealth, the regressions of the Civil Rights movement all stand out.  The current