Every 15 minutes

For two days our staff and students participated in program called "Every 15 minutes". On the average every fifteen minutes a teenager dies in a traffic accident. I think that that is the statistic. The idea is to bring teens away from making reckless choices about drinking and driving, even deciding to ride with a drunk.

An announcement comes over the loudspeaker. It is the recreation of a 911 call. Something like, "Oh, my God, there's been an accident over on Franklin Road." "Is anybody hurt?" "I don't know." "Stay there I'm sending a police and ambulance over as quickly as possible."

That message is our cue to send the teachers down to a place below school where two cars have apparently collided. A girl, bloodied is hanging out of a broken window. As all 1300 students watch, first a police car arrives, followed by several more, a first responder rescue squad, a fire truck and an ambulance. The first responders ascertain the situation. The big equipment comes out to cut open the car and rescue the injured in the back seat. The girl who went through the window is put in a body bag and taken by the coroner. One of girls in back seat is brought to a waiting helicopter and flown to a trauma center. Another of the injured is placed in an ambulance to be taken to the local hospital. A policeman subjects the driver of one vehicle to a sobriety test. Then the cop places him in handcuffs and excourts him to the back seat of the waiting police vehicle. A dozen students and one teachers along with the grim reaper stand by. On the previous day, every 15 minutes one person was removed from the student body, symbolizing the death of a student in a traffic accident every 15 minutes in the United States.

The next day the entire school assembles in the gym. We get the back-story there. A fifteen minute film is assembled reviewing the events of the previous day, but adding the visit to the hospital, the communications with parents and the booking of the drunk driver. Many of the support staff have take the victims and their families though a simulated accident scenerio during those two days. The parents of the "deceased" have written a letter to their "dead" child. Their children have written back from the grave and both read their stories to the assembled 1200 students and support staff. Then an undertaker described in detail how he gives dead people their last bath. Sometimes he can clean them up so the family can say their last goodbyes face to face and sometimes that isn't possible. He discribed how a family had to feel a loved one through the body bad. A twenty six year old woman spoke about driving with a friend from Oakland to Sebastopol. Her friend, Alex, did sound for the band that night and stayed sober. Driving at the intersection of Stoney Point and Route 116 a car driven by a drunk Sonoma State student hit them so hard that their car with them in it ended up in a field and her friend, Alex died and cushoned the fall for her.

Then our principal, Chris Heller got up. "I would like everyone to know that I am six feet six and I am a man's man and it's OK to cry." And so as he read an emotional statement about how he cannot imagine a day without his two daughters, and choked over those words.

It is hard to know if this three day presentation will have a real impact, but it emotially touched many at the moment.

My new Mac

After six, maybe seven years with the Imac or sunflower mac as I have know it, I purchased a new computer. I could go in several directions from here. I could write about the data that I have lost in when this computer crashed. Then that memory would remind me of how "someone" dumped all of my documents in the trash, trying to get my machine to process faster...something about confusing the "documents" folder with the "mydocuments" folder. It is difficult to know how many gigs that I have lost, but equate it with the loss of possessions. Nostagicly I miss them. But my life is far better without them.

The machine crashed sevearl times while I was on the Internet Saturday. I had been thinking about not only getting a new machine but also an ipod touch (a topic for another blog). I went to Best Buy and saw the latest Mac Mini- 4 gigs ram, 320 gig hard drive and two point something gigahertz at $799. I told them that I would take it. The salesman went to get it and when he came back he said they were out.

The next day I went to the Mac store with Truckee. My purchase was easy. I knew what I wanted and except for some questions about cable I was set. Truckee thought that he still had a warranty and was replacing his cable. It turned out his warranty was finished, but the "Mac Genius" reluctantly replaced the battery nevertheless. We decided that it was Apple's way of leaving a positive impression for customers.

Truckee is a gosend for computer problem solving. We talked about the ways to transfer all of the information from my old Mac to my new one. He said we could use his hard drive to create a daisy chain. It worked like a charm, taking two and a half hours to transfer my materials over to my new machine. Last night I loaded the first 850 of my ten thousand photos from my photo card to iphoto. I long ago exceeded the capacity of my old machine for photos. For the first time I even gave Donna a musical slide show of our trip.

My only difficulty is finding enough free time to enjoy my new machine.

Drowning

Saturday night our good friend Jesse had a CD release party. He played and sang songs that he wrote during a year in the high desert in New Mexico. His performance includes a plethora of kiddy toys, instruments and sound effects. Then he was joined by some friends :Peter on piano and toy piano, Ben on guitar and bass and Max on drum and trombone. Jesse played a song where he mentioned drowning and my mind went back to a time when I was seven years old.

That day my family was to visit my wife's sister, Jane, at Immaculata Convent, a place where women become nuns. In the morning father gave me a little soldier helmet, army green and only about a half inch in diameter. I put it in my pocket. I remember the vast lawns of the Pennsylvania country setting. My cousins, Jimmy, Johnny and I enjoyed disappearing to another part of the campus. This day we found a resevoir, only about 20 yards long and maybe 15 yards wide. From the outside we could see little frogs sitting and sunning on the concrete rim of the pool. We climbed the metal fence, maybe four feel high, to catch some frogs.

The concrete rim, about 10 inches in width rimmed the rectangle and on each side a metal pipe where water entered. I slipped on this metal pipe and my foot went in, getting both my shoe and the cuff of my Sunday trousers wet. I thought, "I'm really going to get into trouble." As I scooted along the edge once again my foot slipped but this time I lost my balance and slid whole body into the pool. I remember Jimmy and Johnny quickly jumping the fence and running to get help.

I could not swim, but I floundered. My hands pushing the water, somehow bringing my head up now and then for a breath. I must have been successful for sometime in this chaotic attempt to stay afloat because my family was pretty far away as I remember. First my Uncle Matt, the my Uncle Joe arrived and they had a pole they wanted me to grab but I was too far toward the middle. The my dad jumped the fence and dived in. He pulled me to edge and the group all pulled me out. I remember little at Immaculata after that. I was wet. I was afraid they would be angry at me. Soon we headed home. I was convinced that I had ruined everyone's day.

I remember sitting on my bed after I had come home and my dad sitting next to me. I remember my dad saying that when he jumped in that were pipes, not too far below the surface and that he could have been impaled upon them. I reached into my pockets and realized that I had lost that little soldier helmet. I told my dad that I was disappointed that I had lost it. He said, "I thought I lost you."

I had no feeling of impending death, as far as I can remember. A child lives in the now, atleast a child of seven. Yet I remember a time in my childhood several years later when I thought I was going to hell. Then I feared death, for I feared that I would spend eternity suffering. Imagine that. More about that issue in some other blog.

The Five Paragraph Essay

My goal for my English classes this year is to try to help them think more deeply about literature. I am not sure but it may be an impossible task- something to do with an undeveloped frontal cortex. For my sophomores I have had them work in groups for two weeks. They are reading Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. They had to deal with at least one topic and get evidence from the book on that topic (Have I written about this?). They then get at least three quotes about the topic and make conclusions based on what they have found. It reverses the normal process of creating you classic high school literary essay, taking it from a deductive process to an inductive process. They look for evidence then make a conclusion based on the evidence.

Several of the English teachers here at Analy developed a clear way to write a cookie cutter essay for Freshman and Sophomores. In the first paragraph the student writes the thesis or the opinion. The next three paragraphs are evidence for proving the thesis. Each evidence paragraph has five parts. First the writer introduces the paragraph by giving the context of the quote that follows. Who said it? Where were they? What was the situation in the book? The second part the write just writes down the quote in quotation marks, of course. Then the student references the work and page. (Lynch 49) Part 4: The students puts the quote into his or her own words. Part five is the hard part. The writer must figure out how the quote helps to prove or give evidence to the thesis. We call it the ICCEE method: 1) Introduce the quote. 2) Copy down the quote. 3) Cite the quote. 4) Explain what the quote means. 5) Elaborate, explore or expand on the significance of the quote.

Beside being a good approach to deeper thinking in general, this process is perfect for high school students because they know very little anyway. Instead of forcing a topic that they know nothing about, they become educated on the topic, then make conclusion. The next step is to write the classic five paragraph essay from the evidence they have found. By this time the essay should practically write itself.

Just an aside:
In my sixth period class I saw one of my students draw a picture of penis and balls and give it to a girl. I don't know what was said, but I told him to see me after class. I said to him, "Whenever I see a high school drawing of penis and balls, I will think that you did it." "You drew that picture and gave it to a girl?", I continued. "It's not what you're thinking." He said. I am not really sure what I was thinking. I said, "Drawings of penises and balls do not belong in school. If you're going to draw it, do it away from here." He was deeply embarrassed and he apologized. I said that he could go.

A New Quarter

Last night I unloaded all my frustrations on Donna. She is a good supportive listener. I look at it this way: One quarter of the pie is finished of this crazy busy year. I had a talk with Joe Hile, one of the counselors. He had all of the Freshmen last year and knows the trouble makers. He said to me talking of sixth period, "That's an unbelievable class. I cannot imagine the greatest teacher being able to handle that class. It has all the 'bad guys' from last there except..." So we agreed to meet with the principal and see if we can make some modifications.

The quarter means time to change seating. I feel so powerful. Some complain, some like the results. Overall I feel bad putting some the good kids in the back because they may miss a little. I buffer the real problems. So Mark in Period 4 is in the front, surrounded by "good girls". My sixth period having 4 major problems and 5 minor problems is a little more difficult to rearrange. I find out today how my plan worked.

My first essays and stories of the year are starting to come. I must prepare for the major part of my weekends taken up reading and correcting papers. I am trying to forstall some of the process by having students check each others papers and I have a valuable and clear checklist they go by.

Second quarter- here I come.

Home Coming Rally

Ah high school. Well first you should know that I wasn't there. But it was the talk of the English lunch. One of the boys came out in black-face, actually it was a full black body in tights. But the hit of the show was the background song "Dick in a Box". Two girls (I think two) were dressed as men and came out and stripped down to their underwear. On top of their underwear at the crotch was a small box. And I guess that opened the box to pull out a crown. The references apparently go to a Saturday Night Live Program that most people who have a TV are familiar with. Not only the principal watched but the Superintendent and the Assistant Superintendent. Should I care about the ignorance and insensitivity of teenagers? Is this a sign of the downfall of American culture? or just bad taste? Sensitive readers, what do you think?

Bill

Donna's Dad visited this weekend. We had a long conversation about being President of our local union. His presidency was filled with conflicts with what he considered a bellicose administration. We are planning a trip together this summer, this time to Italy. Bill is 79. Up until a couple of years ago he could keep up with my fast pace and still he is a good walker. But after dinner when Donna and I decided to take a little walk, he opted not come with us. His joints are starting to ache. I wonder if a knee operation would do any good.

We were doing the New York Times Sunday Crossword puzzle together. And the name of Homus Wagner came up. It turns out that Bill has a Homus Wagner baseball card from the 1920's as well as one of Babe Ruth. He took the Babe Ruth to a local dealer in Santa Cruz who said that the black and whites were not worth much. I started looking up the prices and it turns out they they are worth quite a bit, probably in the thousands is my guess. He is sending me a photocopy so I can check.

Bill also reads prolificly and has been unloading his store of books on us, as if we needed more books. But it is fun to go through them. He reads widely on politics and culture. He was teaching Spanish at a local adult school but they dropped the class because of not enough sign ups.

We are planning a trip together in June to Italy. He speaks what I consider fluent Italian, but he says that the others in his class are better than he is. We have a great invitation to visit San Benedito, Marche with an old friend of Donna's. Lomberto has offered us an extra apartment that they own and a car. He also promised to show us Italy as an Italian would see it. Bill is talking about also taking his step-daughter, Maya, with us if she wants to go. Rome, Pompey, Hurculeum and Naples are all places I want to see. The last time I was in Rome was 1973. It sounds like a great trip.

Escape to Riga, Latvia

Last night as I was walking home, I passed the shop where I last had my hair cut. I had been feeling the pressures of tons of paper work, pressures of being the president of my association- always too many things to do. Then I thought of the last time that I had sat in the barber chair at that shop.

Just before my trip to Russia in June I decided to try and remove some of the gray from my hair. I pictured the stylist just bringing some of my old color back. She somehow decided that a light yellow blond was closest to the color that I have now. When I arrived home, Donna thought it was dreadful. She was really the only person who didn't like it, but maybe the most important person to comment on my tonsorial changes.

Then in July I traveled to Latvia, a place full of lovely blonds. And I was talking to two lovely Latvians, one of them had very natural blond with a little brown. She said to me, "I wish that I had blond hair like yours." I didn't reply but I thought that it was one of the funniest things anyone could say to me. Not only is my hair color from a bottle, but also I have a huge bald spot in the back of head. Let's say that I am past my prime. She certainly was at the height of hers.
It just makes me laugh.

Reality check: Here I am back in my sixth period. I will try to help them make graphic visualization of their ideas. These ideas have come from an inductive search of the text. Over all not an easy task for anyone. Let's see how this sixth period does.

Class Preparation

After school yesterday we had a faculty meeting right after school. My prep time on Tuesday is the first period of the day. Consequently I work on getting ready for my Sophomores. Ordinarily I will then take the time after school to prepare for classes the next day. But right after school to day we had a faculty meeting till 2:20 PM. Then I had to "meet the Sup" (or Superintendent). Representatives from our teachers association meet with him once a month to hash out problem and talk about things going on in the district on an informal basis. It is a very valuable meeting. That meeting went until 5 PM. I went home almost immediately and fixed dinner- for Joey and me. I quickly swallowed down dinner to make it my Italian class (my one after school indulgence this year) just a little late. I walked home and sat down with a glass of wine and chatted about the day with Donna for about a half hour. I went to the livingroom, turned on my laptop and promptly fell asleep.

So there goes my careful planning of the next day's lesson plan. Nevertheless I had prepared part of a quiz for my Freshmen but I still wanted to compose a quote quiz. I had done some preparation but did not actually compose the quote portion of the quiz. I got up at my usual time 6 AM but rushed my breakfast. I walked to work as usual then rushed to my computer and googled "To Kill a Mockingbird""Key quotes". I quickly assembled a quote test and had it on time to give to my student.

The preceeding story is by no means an endorsement for this kind of class preparation.

First Rain

The local news stories tell of farmers rushing to get their grapes harvested. One man brought several tons of grapes to the wine making supply store and sold a ton of zinfandel for fifty cents a pound- very cheap. Donna was finalizing the last of her Fall planting late last night. I caught Truckee last night as I was arriving home and he was leaving to see his girlfriend in Gilroy, at least a three hour drive. The day before he sealed the room of the trailer and investigated possible tarps and tents that would protect it in the rains. Joey was taking his Folengong class. So I ate alone on this cloudy chilly evening a spicy cornbread casserole.

Sure enough a pounding windy rain began in the middle of the night. For this drought stricken state it is good news so early in the season- but also difficult to know if it will continue. I drove for the second time this year and gathered extra bags- one from my union anticipating at least an attempt at organzing my papers. My class sits here now- semi-quiet writing in the journal. The question of the day" "Describe your feelings about the rain. Do you have a story about getting stuck in the rain? Or a story about getting totally soaked? Or just playing in the rain?

Now I am in my sixth period class. "Can I run to the bathroom really quick?" "My locker won't open. I need Max to help me open it." As the drip, drip, drip of the out drain drips on my airconditioner. I just gave Brendan a dirty look because he was in the wrong seat and he moved.

Now to curriculum: Finish your worksheet: How is your life like Ender's life in terms of Adult support for life skills, spiritual support, socialization, and dreams that you pursue. In my fourth period Michael gave all adults a five out of five score. In Ender's game adults are brutal and children are brutal with each other and brutal upon themselves. Now their task is to present 32 different possible topics to write about in Ender's game. They collect the evidence from quotes in the book and I hope that they will a cogent class presentation in a couple of days. If all goes well I will have 64 essays on 32 different topics.

I look forward to October 24th when my compadres in English help me grade them. Today I will meet with the superintendent for our monthly informal. Then I go to my second Italian class at Viva.

One plus one equals three.

The title is on my blackboard this morning. I thought that I would have them guess why. Originally I meant it for my third period World History class. Then I thought about my Freshman and Sophomore English students. They all happen to be working on cooperative learning tasks at this time. My point is that the major reason that I form groups with students is so they can produce more. I am especially interested in the art of discussion or Socratic learning where an idea is introduced and the discussion and more depth about the idea comes to light with discussion.

In my first period class no one even came close to guessing why I had put the equation on the board. Most said "because your not so good at math." or some such thing. They are so literal. But when I explained it in term of the papers that some turned in and some did not turn in, they understood very clearly.

Period three, World History, individually outlined a section of the book. Then the groups were suppose to work together to build a PowerPoint. Some groups worked very well together. Others had observable loose ends. I will have this discussion my World History class today. My inclination is to separate those who have not been productive. They create their own individual projects. In history two people volunteered to do individual projects. One of those I had in mind to do it but there were several others who did not volunteer. They will wait until Wednesday for a non-volunteers.

Last Wednesday I came up with what I thought was a brilliant project for my Sophomore English students. I created eight topics from the book Ender's game. I wrote out the directions so that students must find quotes in the book that would give insight to author's intentions in writing about "the relationships between children and adults" for example. I'll try to remember to include a copy of the lesson in the link right here. They they were to search the book for evidence of those quotes to see what the quotes actually said. First this process uses inductive reasoning. It is a difficult task for anyone, so I know that they will struggle with this project. Second this process should prepare them to write a literary essay using the quotes as evidence.

We had just had a quiz where I found out who had been reading the book and who hadn't been. I let those who had been reading out in the hall to work on the project together. For those who did not read we listened to a reading of the book in class.

As a literature teacher I stuggle with those who do not read the book. But also I empathize because I had a reading disability in school. It is still easier for me to listen to a novel than read it. But also I try to provide opportunities for them to read in class as well as hold them accountable for the work even if it is difficult.

I further stress the one plus one problem in my fifth period class. I said, "I can deal with one plus one equals two. I can not deal with one plus one equals one or worse, one plus one equals zero. The combination of workers on any one project should produce more and not less."

Spirit Week

This is "Spirit Week" at Analy High School. I remember the first time that I experienced this Sebastopol phenomenon. I had just come from the West Contra Costa Unified School District, the poorest district in the state of California- formerly named the Richmond Unified School District before its bankruptcy. Students there came from lower middle class and lower class homes. Students here elaborately decorated halls and stairwells. Each class collects money for this extravaganza and the leadership club for each class goes out and buys decorations. Classes compete with each other for the faciest hallway and the best decorations. In a matter of hours the decorations are torn down by the competing classes. What a waste!

My Sophomores today are now writing in their journals but they are a little more noisey than usual. Most are dressed in green, some in green face paint. Now 2 and a half hours later I have my sixth period here again, many in green. I see one girl in front of me with a green pencil. I don't know if that counts. Just before lunch was the rally- Lots of screaming kids, dance numbers and sample videos by each students. All these events preceed what is called the "apple game". The Analy football team plays the El Molino football team. Normally Analy wins but I think that last year was an upset.

The Flu Hits and an update

Donna called last night to tell me that Joey was down with the flu. When I arrived home he was severely suffering. I went into his room just to say "hi". Donna and I are trying to remember to wash our hands and are longing to get a flu shot. "They should be ready early next week." I heard on the news today. That is too far away.

A meeting in Santa Clara all weekend, Sunday Donna and I went to hardly strictly bluegrass. Monday, I can hardly remember. But Tuesday, sixth period- our principal, Chris knocked on my door of my room to watch me teach I think. The class was very quiet because they were taking a test. This is my very difficult group with no fewer than 6 major behavior problems. He didn't come back, but I wonder if he has heard anything about them.

During the day between classes I was dealing with this class cap problem, aforementioned in my last blog. We think that it has been resolved. Bill, the mouth, wants to be included in the Rep Council emails. Helen said that I should look at past practice and I did. Past practice is the Rep Council is notified and as the courtesy, the head of the negotiating team. That leaves Bill out. But because I don't want a fight, I included him.

Susan, the VP and I were getting the agenda together for the Rep Council meeting on Thursday. I get a call from my retirement counselor to arrange a meeting for my neglected retirement details. The big question: "Will I get service credit for a teaching job that I had more than thrity years ago?" Then I got a call from Donna that Ben, the swing/ gypsy guitar player had called to get together. Saturday morning was his best time and ordinarily a good time for me, except for a CTA meeting from 9 AM till 2 PM this week. I missed my moment to call him back.

Also another meeting to look forward to tonight- My escape was a new Italian class that I am taking. This is an Italian class that I can relate too. I am the only male. And they pour wine and eat biscotti. "A little wine loosens the tongue." This is an Italian quote. Except for this week we will have a access to some good Italian wines to loosen our tongues. We practiced spitting our "gli" in class. I loved it. I have a couple of layers of French and Russian to dig through to bring Italian back to forfront. Marche here I come.

Another 5 AM

Three of us CTA Union members came back from the Leadership meeting this weekend. Some of the words that ring in may head are "make time for you family", "don't let the union rule your life" and "don't go around putting out fires". Having been thinking about this class size for the past three weeks, I am ready for it to be over. But last week in a meeting with the superintendent he suggested- without saying it outright that we file a grievance. Now I am trying to get the facts on the situation. I woke up at five in the morning thinking about this issue. I worry that the district is trying to push the issue after we gave them an opening in one situation. A teacher wanted more students in her class because there was a chance that the class would not be offered the next semester. Unfortunately increasing the class size also violated the collective bargaining contract.

We have had formal and informal meetings to try and remedy this one problem. A week later I find out that we have two such problems. Sorry, but at this moment I am overwhelmed in paperwork.
I am creating an agenda for an upcoming Rep Council meeting. I must go on line and fine our tax forms to complete a FAFSA Report for our daughter's financial aid. I do not mention the piles of paper from school assignments I must grade and the curriculum that I must write for tomorrow. But ahhhhh, tonight is my first Italian class in a couple of year. I will relax there- for just a bit.

Not Strictly Bluegrass

After a Friday and Saturday at the CTA Leadership conference, Susan and Kathy dropped me off at the corner of 19th and Lincoln in San Francisco. Busloads of people poured from buses to join the hoards in the park for the Not Strictly Bluegrass Festival. After a half hour of waiting I walked across the street to call Donna and find out what delayed her- Message machine. When she arrived at 12:30 she said, "I've got to ask Truckee how to work this cell phone. I didn't hear the phone until after you had left a message. We parked at 25th and Lawton and walked to the park.

Four venues have top acts from around the United States, all funded by a rich man named "Helman", apparently of Silicon Valley fame, not the manyonaise fortune. We climbed down a steep embankment to join the hoard at the arrow stage and Booker T- or is it Brooker T- Gravely voiced singer and rock band. We put ourselve close to a center corodor at this stage just in back of the sound man. Crowds of people were sitting on tarps, blankets, beach chairs and jackets. A sound booth blocked the view for a few small plots of green. At the break I could see the stage except for a tall man in black leaning against a large speaker. "Do you think that you are going to sit down when the show starts?" I asked politely. "No" He answered. Let me try it again. "Do you think that you are going to sit down when the show starts, asshole?"

We heard Rodney Crowell sing his pointed songs about love lost and family conflicts, his brother a twin, who became a "rent boy" on Hollywood Boulevard. Then we stood in the food booth lines. The booths were severing great food at reasonable price- but the Cajun Garlic Fries were gone and the line were long, but friendly. One of the cooks tried to stir up the crowd, "Hey, Isn't Bod Dylan playing at 1 PM?" (He wasn't there.)

We walked over the far stage- the chicken stage to hear Mavis Staples- one of the daughters in the famous Staple Family Singers- who led many of Martin Luther King's rallies around the United States in the sixties. We caught the end of rollicking gospel band and pushed ahead to be within about 50 yards of the stage- close for us. We eyed a tarp and a small blanket and a small green area that filled up quickly. A tall young woman sat down next to us, but as soon as the band began she stood in front of Donna, at four foot eleven, a humorous scene quickly remedied by Donna moving in front of her.

Mavis's voice, at one moment smooth and low, the next horse and gravely. Levon, Eyes on the Prize, numerous songs by "Pops Staples" and a few favoirites from the seventies. The guitar player had a rough but fluid style- the back up singers had meliflouse voices especially the one male singer. The sound of the huge crowd obviously excited Mavis and pushed her to perform at her peak. She told stories of the civil rights movement and the family band and got the crowd singing at the top of their lungs. Donna called Anna in Alaska to give her a taste of the show. The noise was so loud, Donna didn't know whether she had gotten through or not. Later Anna called and said, "I thought that the call was a wrong number."

Taming the Paper Tiger

Organization is not my strong suit. I feel like I take much of my time in this classroom pushing around piles of paper, making lists and then going through the piles, rereading the lists and deciding what new pile to put the list in. Probably at least ten years ago Donna bought me a book "Taming the Paper Tiger". It told me to have three piles - file away, deal with today and trash or something like that. I wish that I could do it. I have folders. Periods 1, 3, 4, 5 and 6- Curriculum for Freshmen, curriculum for Sophomores, World History, late slips, index cards of lists, old tests, new tests, notes from parents, papers to give back, papers for my lessons today, piles of unsorted index cards, piles of unsorted papers, yellow sticky pads with notes written on them, old curricula, new curricula, ideas on paper, pads of paper - you get the idea.

I am thinking of these things because I sit here after having had a week of meetings, and approach a conference on Friday. It requires writing subplans and preparing for next weeks meetings with phone calls and agendas. So I grab the miscellaneous lists that I have on each little card and piece of paper and tape them on the appropriate folder. It is not terrible efficient but it will have to work for me for today.