The Sun is Dancing

Twenty-two vacant desks line the classroom while the sun sneaks under the straggly green window shades and makes its way to dance on the bare desktops.  A few discarded pencils cradled in the pencil holders remain, but all paper, books, backpacks have vanished.   The cerulean blue bulletin board remains lined with images of Hamlet's questioning of humanity; life; and our eternal existence: from dust to dust.  It sets a nostalgic mood. I too am set to question and wonder about "how noble in reason and infinite in faculty" we are formed and made and yet, how like dust, time simply vanishes, is no more. In the background the halls are echoing silence.  No laughter; no Broland; no Job calls; no rap; nothing but silence.

I can feel my heart beating in my chest as I search for the words to say; I want to reflect on the wonder of this year, but my heart is anxious to put my thoughts into words.  Should I try to say goodbye?  Should I try to make an insightful comment about moving on, about following dreams; about finding one's self.  No, I say to my heart,  just sit in this silent moment and think about the beauty, wonder, laughter, thoughts, and challenges that occurred in room 304b.  

I see the faces of my students as I look across those empty desks.  Conversations resonate in my head and a smile sweeps across my face as I recall the students who have graced me with their unique talents, their thoughtfulness, their zany ways; and their myriad of insights.  This isn't like dust at all--these memories dancing in my head while the sun dances on the desks won't just disappear.  The memories will fade and change just as the sun fades and changes as the time of the year changes but they won't disappear.  

For now, I will celebrate the beauty of spring, the peace of the hallways, and the joy of sending seniors onto their next step in their journey.  In the fall, I will look for the rays of the sun on the desks before a new year begins, and I will remind myself of why I teach.  I will remind myself this classroom is about understanding that we has humans, as those who are "noble in reason and infinite in faculty," must continue to consider, in the words of Shakespeare: "what is a man" and find a definition for who we are and who we are to become.

A Sunflower; A Bird; Fireworks

A sunflower:

There is a move in yoga called a sunflower; I love it.  You stand with your feet shoulder width apart and with your hands raised above your head.  In a grand sweeping motion, bring your hands swooping down to the ground in front of you while bending your knees and gather the air in front of you while criss-crossing your hands.  Return your hands to the sky while straightening your knees: repeat.  Smile.

A bird:

Driving up Pelham Road, I have felt giddy the last two weeks.  Lining the hill are maple trees with lemon-lime fluffy pompoms of leafy substance.  They seem to sing with joy.  In an attempt to share the joy with the budding trees, we rolled down the windows, pointed our hands toward the sky, and began to flap our human wings up and down as we cruised through the forested avenue.  

Our laughter grew as we passed a dark-haired, scruffy, construction-type working man in his dilapidated truck going down the hill.  Both times that we grew wings and flew in our avion, our new friend passed us and immediately joined us in our imaginary flight.  The looks that passed from driver to driver were ones of amazement, joy, and friendship.

Fireworks:

I filled my white mug with coffee, grabbed the cream from the fridge, and poured the usual amount into the steamy brew.  The cream made its way to the bottom of the mug and on its return to the brim it scattered and danced in C, S, and curly-cue type patterns.  I giggled as I imagined my mug bursting with the glory of fireworks.

Thoughts:

Some inertly tantalizing sensation occurs when what was once just an ordinary movement becomes a beautiful flower, a carefree bird, or dazzling fireworks.  Be on the look out for ways nature sneaks into the mundane; take a risk to trust the pattern of something other than an ordinary human, let yourself imagine more beauty than what you see at first glance.

Each spring the earth is transformed; me too!

hula-hoops and a garage

A  sandy-haired 10 year-old stood on the steps of her townhome swaying her hips in an attempt to keep the pink and purple hula-hoop twirling and looping around her waist.  There was not a trace of defeat as she hunched her back and draped her arms to once again retrieve the hoop from the cement to place it around her waist.

Not too many yards away from her was a shaggy-haired, 5-o'clock shadow wearing man working beside his one-car garage.  He moved his handsaw back and forth diagonally along the birch bark branch.  After a closer look, it became apparent that the previous bird-perch, shadow provider, leaf grower would soon find its new occupation as the support to a hand-crafted tv remote perch, a coffee-mug rest, a magazine holder.

It was two years ago that a 11-year old girl laden with her purple backpack and swinging her lunch bag entered her townhome garage at 4:00 after a spring day of learning at her elementary school.  I am sure the day was filled with many of the usual activities: silent reading; microscope viewing; hopscotch jumping; and problem solving.  But her life changed instantly upon finding her mother dead, hanging from the garage beam. She arrived before her 9-year-old sister; she arrived to bear the news alone.

As I passed the townhomes on my run the other day, I was reminded of the beauty, simplicity, tragedy, and complexity of life.  Hula-hoops, hand-made crafts, suicide, and suffering all mix together and create what we call life.  I am moved to be thankful for the simple joys of this life and I am moved to pray fervently for the suffering of those who hunch their backs, drape their arms, and pick themselves up and move on in life while laden with the secrets and grief of tragedy and hardship.  

Songs and Spring--Iambic Pentameter

A song that speaks right through the soul can be

A song that can change someone's heart to see.

Sungeun K.

How her melody sings into my heart

Each note a memory of days gone by.

Anna C.

She walks along the street that winds and bends

For right now she is where she wants to be.

Yvonne M.

Judging

SUSAN BOYLE YOUTUBE LINK

Susan Boyle is a reminder to me that one must look much further than a hairstyle; a style of dress; a swagger; or even a background to know the true gifts of a person.  I hope I will allow myself to be amazed by someone today and tomorrow by waiting to hear his voice; by hoping to see her talent come to life; or by seeing the beauty where my human eye had previously failed to notice.

Blessings to you Miss Boyle.  My the world give back to you in abundance all that you so graciously gave to your mother; to your church; to your "willage"; and to the youtube watching world.

Peace by Natalie B.

Powerful images help to reveal the comfort of peace. Thank you, Natalie, for this beautiful poem.  You really emphasize the power of peace with your structure.  

Natalie B.
Peace


Withered and wasted
after these miles I have ambled,
Step after step
my feet
they do grow weary,
This sand
a scorching bed of coals
paves the path in all directions,
This sun
a raging fireball
hangs just above my head,
The time is soon approaching
when my body finds it hopeless
to continue on like this,
This heat will only grieve me
so I crumple in distress.

A
drop
of
water
hits
my
skin,
With many more to follow,
They come to bring me back to life
and wash my bloody feet,
Kind and soft
these beads they kiss my face,
Sweat and tears are gone
I am left with the purest rain.

Similes with a laugh

Would you like extra credit?  If so, submit your original metaphor or simile to me.  The funnier it is the more extra credit for you.

Hope you laugh...

from a Washington Post contest of funniest analogies from actual high school essays collected by English teachers across the country. 
 
1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a ThighMaster.
 
2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
 
3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
 
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
 
5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
 
6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
 
7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.
 
8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.
 
9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.
 
10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
 
11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
 
12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
 
13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
 
14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
 
15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.
 
16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
 
17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.
 
18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.
 
19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
 
20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
 
21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
 
22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
 
23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
 
24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.
 
25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.