Whatever Gets You through the Night

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

“We’re surrounded by artificial intelligence,” my husband scoffs. He relies on the proliferation of misinformation and verification that untruths are embraced by a large swath of the population who would certainly claim “intelligence” among its many qualities as stark—and frustrating— evidence. That’s a discussion for another time, though.

When I call him into my office and ask him to read the ChaptGPT version of the introduction I have to write for our keynote speaker at an upcoming conference, he is surprised (shocked?). He wonders why I didn’t just write it myself. After all, it’s a 45-second blip on my lifetime composition screen, and truthfully, in all the events I’ve attended, how many introductory remarks have actually stayed with me?

But worries about the success of this conference have eclipsed all reason, and I am losing sleep. So call up the bots, I think, and embrace what leaders such as John Spencer and AJ Juliani posit: it’s a good place to start, and perhaps they’re right.

Here’s the language that moves the gears (from Chat GPT after several search terms added):

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is our distinct pleasure to introduce a true luminary in the field of education and literacy, Penny Kittle, a passionate educator hailing from the beautiful state of Oregon. With a career spanning decades, Penny has dedicated her life to inspiring educators and students alike with her innovative teaching methodologies and unyielding passion for literature. Her wisdom and expertise have had a profound impact on classrooms across the globe, and her roots in Oregon have infused her work with the unique spirit of the Pacific Northwest. Today, we have the privilege of hearing from Penny Kittle, a speaker whose insights are sure to enlighten and inspire us all, while also celebrating her Oregon connection.

Penny Kittle’s remarkable contributions to the world of education are also reflected in her numerous publications, including best-selling books such as “Book Love: Developing Depth, Stamina, and Passion in Adolescent Readers,” “Write Beside Them: Risk, Voice, and Clarity in High School Writing,” and “180 Days: Two Teachers and the Quest to Engage and Empower Adolescents.” Her work is not only influential but transformative, helping educators and students foster a deep love for reading and writing.

In her own words, Penny Kittle’s philosophy on education shines through:

1. “I believe in the power of books to change lives. Reading isn’t just a pastime; it’s a lifeline to understanding, empathy, and personal growth.”
2. “Teaching is about connecting with students, nurturing their individual voices, and empowering them to become lifelong learners. It’s not just about what’s in the curriculum, but how we can make it meaningful and relevant to each student’s life.”

We are indeed fortunate to have Penny Kittle with us today, an educator and author whose profound insights and unwavering dedication continue to shape the landscape of education for the better.

Regenerate”

Here are my “sloppy copies”:

The truth appears, my mental state, the chaos that reigns—and disturbingly reveals that I should get some help (and this is after my Chat GPT session). I continue to compose; I’m a perambulating drafter, so many footsteps later…

I commit to a typed version. Here it is:

“Hello Everyone and welcome again!

 We have come together this Saturday, a community of like-minded individuals, to learn and grow with each other.

It is in this spirit that Penny Kittle, a luminary in the field of literacy and education, will share, ‘Practices that Engage and Empower Readers and Writers.’ As creator of the Book Love Foundation,  she has worked  to put books in the hands of students to cultivate a lifelong reading habit, “to change lives.” In her work with teachers and students, she continuously advocates for student voice and choice, encouraging agency in all learners and exploration of their interests, concerns, and passions.

‘What is possible?’  Penny asks us to keep this question foremost in our work with students and in our own teaching lives. In doing so, she becomes the perfect ambassador for the theme of this Fall Conference, ‘Reimagining Our World Together.’ Please welcome Penny Kittle.”

Oh, there will be tweaks, but perhaps I’ll get some sleep.

Is it me, or is it AI? Me. I think.

For My Dog-Gone Libby

Many people have consoling words to offer, but it helps me little. Too sad today. Wanted this community to know.

Her spirit remains.

“A Dog’s Life”

“On Turning 12”

We miss you, Libby.

A Gem in Time

My son Sam and my daughter-in-law Alex will be celebrating their third anniversary this Friday. I visited theknot, a popular site for all things nuptial, to discover: leather is the traditional gift idea—symbolic of shelter and security; crystal and glass the modern take—reflecting light and beauty, a bright future; sunflower, with its sturdy stalk represents a strong foundation while its bright yellow petals spread love’s sunshine. The stone of year three is the pearl, an object that is rare in the wild, requires time to form, and whose iridescence and luster increase over time.

I recall where we were, my husband Eric and I, as the third year of our marriage ended. On that anniversary, May 3, 1988, we had just learned we were pregnant with Sam. The day the plus sign confirmed it, Eric wasn’t with me. He had traveled from our home in Miami to his hometown in New Jersey for a meeting with his parents. He had decided to join the family business, to eventually assume full responsibility; they wanted to retire.

We would be leaving Miami, the place where we’d met and married in a whirlwind after knowing each other for three months and having spent no more than four weeks of those months together. It was a long distance love. Phone bills, the fossils of landline communication, had soared, and the foundation was set.

This move would change everything, but the time seemed right. We had planned to head north for awhile, having escaped Miami’s summer swelter for the Jersey Shore every summer since our wedding. This time, though, when fall rolled around, we would not be migrating south. I wouldn’t be returning to my much-loved teaching position and family of colleagues. This time, we’d be building a new family of our own on the Jersey Shore.

Happy three years, to Alex and Sam: a bright future, a new place of shelter and security, a pearl forming.

Taking His Lead

Hard boiled egg? Check.

Dark purple grape juice? Check.

Toothpaste and toothbrush? Check.

No…this is not in response to the recent disaster preparedness presentation I attended—”Be prepared, not scared.”It is what I told one of my third graders I’d bring to his class today for the second of my two-day substituting stint.

When I accepted this job, I knew it’d be a challenge. It has been four years since I’ve spent all day with the same group of students. Middle school is my sweet spot; students shifting throughout the day. But I had spent time with this teacher, experienced her classroom culture, and loved what I saw. It reminded me of my earliest years in first and second grade, the bustle, the silliness, the faces wide-open to the world.

And as we began the last block of our day together, the reading rotation stations, I breathed a sigh of relief. It had gone pretty well. Yes, the morning was rocky. Unfamiliar with the routine, the tech, the kids, I bumbled a bit. Reflection on the math class is better left for another time, but now we were reading, my jam. The teacher had said, “Just supervise and assist. If they want to read to you…” and a smiley face.

One young one who had been a ballast, a student helper throughout the day, brought me his book, and said, “Look at this.” We sat down together while he shared a double-page spread with an experiment laid out. He read the steps, the “What You’ll Need,” all the while checking my reactions, my enthusiasm reflected in his bright eyes.

“Let’s do it,” I said.

“I don’t have grape juice, only orange,” he explained, “but we’ve got lots of eggs!”

We decided: I’d bring the materials; he’d explain it to the class. Morning Meeting, the experiment set-up, would be his show! And in five hours, “…five hours. I can set my watch. I’ll be the timer,” he would share the results of the experiment with the class. Together they’d figure out the what and why, learning.

While it’s true that there won’t be many elementary classroom positions in my future, despite the demands of a day with the youngest students, I wouldn’t trade what happened yesterday for anything. (I’ll keep you posted. You know as well as I do that with a group of 23 lively learners, it’s best to be cautious…but always HOPEFUL.)

Elusive Treasure

“Hey, I think I’ve found one.” My daughter-in-law Alex has climbed up a small hill sporting a hole tree, a red cedar that has been hollowed out over time. When her voice reaches me, I’m inside the bottom peering up through the tube at a patch of blue.

Sam, her husband and my son, confirms it—a chanterelle—her first discovery of one in the wild.

“Good job, honey,” he pauses, “great wife-eye.” (At first I’m puzzled. We’re in the middle of the Harris Ranch trail, part of the Drift Creek National Forest wilderness, with no Wifi at all. Then I get it and smile. Man, I love these kids!)

We had been out to dinner the night before at a quirky restaurant with a JK Rowling-themed dinner menu and family-style seating. A member of this “family” mentioned all the rain that had fallen throughout the week and remarked that it’d be a perfect time to find mushrooms. I knew that was true. Our local paper had just featured a “Wild Kitchen” column recipe, “Hamburgers with Chanterelle Gravy.”

Now here was the fungus in the flesh, lodged unpretentiously in moist, dark duff, home sweet home. After Alex’s gentle harvest, Sam held it up, offering me a view of the underside. He explained how he knew it was a real chanterelle, no common imitator. A circle of small lines rather than gills connected the top to the stem. As the broke open the leggy support, he showed me how the long fibers continued and actually made the stem part of the whole delectable package.

Now that she’d found the first one, the hunt was on in earnest. And we continued to be rewarded with chortles of glee and a slowed pace. Our last half of the trail was punctuated by picking. Hikers’ encouragement as they returned from camping overnight at the creek below fueled the quest for fungus. “You’re gonna find a lot of chanterelles.”

By the journey’s end, the dog’s repurposed poop bag bulged with mushrooms. As we traveled, Alex explained how she would treat them once we were home. She imagined possible cuisine: Thai mushroom soup, stir-fry, even pasta with a ragu because this particular type of shroom is, “capable of holding its own with other flavors.”

We returned to the trailhead, a 6.2 mile, out-and-back adventure, tired and bathed in green light, our appetites satisfied—for the moment.

(This year’s WriteOut officially begins on Sunday, October 8 and continues through October 22. Consider joining in the fun. It’s always the write time to take it outside.)