One thing I love about my boys: they also like to laugh at stupid grammatical errors on public signs. This one was posted on a sign outside a pool in a sad little hotel in Omaha. It went on and on about no alcoholic beverages were allowed. And no glass. And at the end after one more warning of the dangers of bringing in alcohol it gave the final demand: No Alcohol. In Even Plastic Cup. That became a catch phrase around here. Can I use the computer, Mom? Can I use it now? No. Not now. In Even Plastic Cup. Quit asking.
This sign also brought up memories of the time we were taking a tour of a cave and were given explicit instructions to "Don't touch nothin'". Huh? Just where does that leave us?
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Back on skis!
After we finally got out of Denver and away from the substitute pirates, we make our way out to YMCA of the Rockies- Snow Mountain Ranch. While there we took advantage of all of the facilities- the xc ski trails, the archery range, the roller rink, the courts, ping pong tables, and most of all, our room's microwave. Yep- 6 people in one room for a week, mostly eating out of a microwave. I was very unaware of the depth and breadth of microwave cuisine. And I had hoped to stay that way.
There was so much to do at Snow Mountain Ranch that it was hard to pull ourselves away to go try out downhill skiing in the mountains. But we did. We spent the first day at a small place- still big hills by Minnesota standards, but only one chalet and just a few lifts. The boys started out cautiously, but by the end of the day they were looking great. And my mom and dad? It's like they had never taken a 20 year hiatus. They still had all the moves. The other day of downhill we spent at Winter Park- the place we came as a family many times in my youth. The names of the hills came right back, Mock Turtle, Cheshire Cat, White Rabbit, and it was just as beautiful and exhilarating as I remembered. Only this time the exhilaration didn't come from my own daredevil moves, but from watching my boys shake off their hesitation and really figure this skiing business out. Theo inherited my (dangerous) love of dodging in and out of the trees. The grin on his face was probably gorgeous, but it was hidden behind a helmet. Thankfully.
In all, we lucked out. Great weather, great snow, short lines. Enough sun to keep us smiling, but not so much that we were fried to a crisp like I was back in the 80s. We will definitely return. But we are upgrading to something with a kitchen.
There was so much to do at Snow Mountain Ranch that it was hard to pull ourselves away to go try out downhill skiing in the mountains. But we did. We spent the first day at a small place- still big hills by Minnesota standards, but only one chalet and just a few lifts. The boys started out cautiously, but by the end of the day they were looking great. And my mom and dad? It's like they had never taken a 20 year hiatus. They still had all the moves. The other day of downhill we spent at Winter Park- the place we came as a family many times in my youth. The names of the hills came right back, Mock Turtle, Cheshire Cat, White Rabbit, and it was just as beautiful and exhilarating as I remembered. Only this time the exhilaration didn't come from my own daredevil moves, but from watching my boys shake off their hesitation and really figure this skiing business out. Theo inherited my (dangerous) love of dodging in and out of the trees. The grin on his face was probably gorgeous, but it was hidden behind a helmet. Thankfully.
In all, we lucked out. Great weather, great snow, short lines. Enough sun to keep us smiling, but not so much that we were fried to a crisp like I was back in the 80s. We will definitely return. But we are upgrading to something with a kitchen.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Cliff Diving Gorillas and Substitute Pirates
For spring break, we decided to go back in time and relive my youth by taking a road trip to Snow Mountain Ranch in Colorado. I have many fond memories of skiing at Winter Park and staying in the cabins at the Y camp. So we loaded up my parents minivan with xc skis, boots, snow gear, my parents, and headed west. After a night in a small motel in Nebraska, we awoke to a blizzard. There would be no getting over the pass outside of Denver and to our cabin in the mountains. We were lucky to make it to Denver. It was hours of white knuckle driving. With my mom getting antsier and antsier in the back of the van with Theo. He took it like a champ.
As we rolled (slowly) into Denver I used my phone to find a cheap hotel for the night. Jean piped up from the back about a restaurant we had stopped at back in the 80s. She remembered mexican food and cliff divers. In a restaurant. So I googled 'cliff diving restaurant' and sure enough it was still around, and just down the road! I checked out the website and saw that they had a whole afternoon of 'shows' for our enjoyment. If we stepped on it we could make it not just for a cliff diver, but for cliff diving GORILLAS. What? We stepped on it. Further scrutiny of the website showed that the 2pm cliff diving show had a little asterisk by it. I looked at the key to see what the asterisk could possibly denote and sure enough found out that on weekends, *Substitute pirates. What? There were substitute pirates? That so beats being a substitute teacher.
We didn't make it in time for the gorilla. We did see the substitute pirates, and I see why they are not the real ones.
But the cliff divers were young and brave and a little bit funny. And the faux tropic environment plus never ending basket of chips was just what we needed after driving through hours of swirling white.
As we rolled (slowly) into Denver I used my phone to find a cheap hotel for the night. Jean piped up from the back about a restaurant we had stopped at back in the 80s. She remembered mexican food and cliff divers. In a restaurant. So I googled 'cliff diving restaurant' and sure enough it was still around, and just down the road! I checked out the website and saw that they had a whole afternoon of 'shows' for our enjoyment. If we stepped on it we could make it not just for a cliff diver, but for cliff diving GORILLAS. What? We stepped on it. Further scrutiny of the website showed that the 2pm cliff diving show had a little asterisk by it. I looked at the key to see what the asterisk could possibly denote and sure enough found out that on weekends, *Substitute pirates. What? There were substitute pirates? That so beats being a substitute teacher.
We didn't make it in time for the gorilla. We did see the substitute pirates, and I see why they are not the real ones.
But the cliff divers were young and brave and a little bit funny. And the faux tropic environment plus never ending basket of chips was just what we needed after driving through hours of swirling white.
Night Sledding
In early March my family headed back up to Dunord. This time for the board retreat. We brought along my parents as well. They got to play with Jon and the boys while I sat in a meeting. I felt my time at in the board meetings was meaningful and useful, but I also stared wistfully out the window at the freshly falling snow and was jealous of the rest of my family who had no agenda for the weekend but to play.
On our last evening, after a day long meeting and a nice dinner, I was ambling back to the cabin for perhaps a game of cards before heading to bed. But then Theo asked to go sledding. It was chilly, snowing, late, dark. But I said yes. We bundled into our outdoor gear and headed over to the hill. As we walked along in the deep dark, I thought we would last one run. But then we came over the ridge and saw a magical scene. The sledding hill was softly lit by strings of christmas lights. The snow was downright sparkling as it floated down on the scene. We grabbed some tubes and took off. Sledding in the dark adds a dimension that brings the experience to the next level. You couldn't really see the bumps and dips, but you felt them. I think my favorite part was when our tubes took us extra far, down around a corner toward the dark lake, out of reach of the twinkling light. As soon as our tubes came to a halt, Theo would be up and running back toward the light. And I was right behind him. Something about moving from light into darkness. Suddenly you thought you could hear wolves, see red eyes peering at you, some sort of benign evil (I know, contradiction) closed in on us out there on the dark end of the sled run and we made a dash for safety. It got the blood pressure up, but at the same time you knew you were really ok. Which is the best kind of thrill out there.
On our last evening, after a day long meeting and a nice dinner, I was ambling back to the cabin for perhaps a game of cards before heading to bed. But then Theo asked to go sledding. It was chilly, snowing, late, dark. But I said yes. We bundled into our outdoor gear and headed over to the hill. As we walked along in the deep dark, I thought we would last one run. But then we came over the ridge and saw a magical scene. The sledding hill was softly lit by strings of christmas lights. The snow was downright sparkling as it floated down on the scene. We grabbed some tubes and took off. Sledding in the dark adds a dimension that brings the experience to the next level. You couldn't really see the bumps and dips, but you felt them. I think my favorite part was when our tubes took us extra far, down around a corner toward the dark lake, out of reach of the twinkling light. As soon as our tubes came to a halt, Theo would be up and running back toward the light. And I was right behind him. Something about moving from light into darkness. Suddenly you thought you could hear wolves, see red eyes peering at you, some sort of benign evil (I know, contradiction) closed in on us out there on the dark end of the sled run and we made a dash for safety. It got the blood pressure up, but at the same time you knew you were really ok. Which is the best kind of thrill out there.
DuNord. With 14 boys.
Back in February we ventured up to DuNord in the middle of winter. Well, retrospectively, it was only really the beginning of winter, as winter stretched out all the way to May this year. But it was gorgeous there. The cities were quite brown and drab at that point but we arrived at our cabins to find pristine ski trails passing right outside our doors.
We had gathered a group of 8 families for this trek. It was some point before we left that this crew included 18 kids between the ages of 8 and 13. And 14 of those 18 were boys. Good luck girls. The crew got along famously- bouncing from skiing to trekking out to the middle of the lake, to cards in the loft, to sledding, to board games. And then they slept hard.
The skiing was downright perfect. Tons of snow, beautiful forests and lakes, and even pictographs! On the cold days the sun was so bright that at one point Eli proclaimed, "Man, if was any hotter, we'd be in trouble!" It was 6. Degrees. On the snowy days the temps were warm enough to lure us out into the woods were the silence and beauty was astonishing.
A highlight, beyond good company, was the late night sauna. Temps were in the single digits, the ski was full of stars, and the hole in the ice did look a lot like a watery grave. But after roasting in the sauna I did jump in. Surprised myself. While sitting in the sauna I put my odds of actually launching myself into the icy lake at 5%. But I did it. Once. Probably never again.
It is hard to believe that the stars will align so perfectly again- everyone healthy and available, the combo of sun and snow and perfect trail conditions, but we are hoping so.
We had gathered a group of 8 families for this trek. It was some point before we left that this crew included 18 kids between the ages of 8 and 13. And 14 of those 18 were boys. Good luck girls. The crew got along famously- bouncing from skiing to trekking out to the middle of the lake, to cards in the loft, to sledding, to board games. And then they slept hard.
The skiing was downright perfect. Tons of snow, beautiful forests and lakes, and even pictographs! On the cold days the sun was so bright that at one point Eli proclaimed, "Man, if was any hotter, we'd be in trouble!" It was 6. Degrees. On the snowy days the temps were warm enough to lure us out into the woods were the silence and beauty was astonishing.
A highlight, beyond good company, was the late night sauna. Temps were in the single digits, the ski was full of stars, and the hole in the ice did look a lot like a watery grave. But after roasting in the sauna I did jump in. Surprised myself. While sitting in the sauna I put my odds of actually launching myself into the icy lake at 5%. But I did it. Once. Probably never again.
It is hard to believe that the stars will align so perfectly again- everyone healthy and available, the combo of sun and snow and perfect trail conditions, but we are hoping so.
Avalon in the news!
This past year at my school we undertook a campaign we called ReadBrave. The entire high school read a book together- out loud, in small groups. The book, Everybody Sees the Ants, dealt with bullying. There were parts that were tough to read. And certainly,at my school, at any school, there were kids who could relate, and painfully so. We read, we talked, we laughed, and some of us cried. It was a good experience. Somehow we connected with Lady GaGa's Born Brave Foundation and the kids started making and recording Public Service Announcements in order to try to catch her attention and lure her to Avalon. It did not work as planned, but it did get us on several news channels and the word got out about these videos where kids were talking honestly about their experience in other places, and how they had a found a home at Avalon and could be themselves here. It was sweet and reaffirming. In the end, several students scored tours of Gaga's bus and front row tickets to her concert. One reports that the Lady herself passed by so near him he could have touched her. He will never be the same.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Laughing and crying at work
First the tears. I have a student who needs to graduate this year. He's 18 and is more than ready to move on. After some initial stumbles in his high school career, he has worked incredibly hard during his senior year to get himself to graduation this spring. This has included going to night school 4 days a week for an entire semester. But there's this final hurdle of the state reading test. He has to pass it to graduate. He's been taking it regularly since 10th grade. He's Somali. English is his 4th language. He started learning it in third grade when he moved here and went to school for the first time in his life. He's learned it so well, and been here long enough, that he has been 'exited' from the English Language Learners program. Meaning he has to pass this test in English to get a diploma. He's a good reader and determined to pass. He created a plan to work with an adult at Avalon most days for several hours on reading strategies. Now that night school is over, he stops by his old school on his way home at least once a week to get extra tutoring from a teacher there. He's good. But he gets tripped up sometimes. Dumb things get him, like one set of questions was based on an add for a chili cooking contest. He had no idea what chili was. Didn't know that it was spicy. Got all the questions wrong. Then there was the section about a girl who wanted to get a gift for her sister returning home from college for the holidays. So she made here a scrapbook. My refugee-camp raised student had no idea what a scrap book was, nor was he connected to a world where siblings left home- all 9 of his live with him still. And he certainly didn't know that if you wanted to learn more about scrap booking you would: C) go to a library to check out a book about crafts. Come on. I have trouble thinking that scrapbooking would be in a craft book. How would my student? So he gets tripped up. And then the pressure of having to pass adds anxiety. A few weeks ago he took the test again- his second to last opportunity before graduation.
My student was so nervous he hardly slept. Neither did I. He spent three hours working on the 40 questions. Then came out of the room, sweaty and tired. I waited nervously for results. The testing director passed by the room I was in and gave me a sad thumb's down. Two questions from success. But it's an all or nothing situation. Damn. Now I had to tell my student. He was sitting at his desk in the advisory wringing his hands. Telling him felt like kicking him in the balls. Then punching him in the gut. Then slapping his face. He shrunk with the news. Got teary. So did I. Damn. One of the worst days of my teaching career. We have a plan in place to make it through this hoop at the next opportunity. I hope it works.
Good thing my job also brings me to tears of joy. Shortly after this sad testing experience I overheard this conversation between two burly, mechanically-minded, fabulous boys: "You know, I've tried them, but I've found that skinny jeans just do not fit my lifestyle." "Yeah, I know what you mean." They were all serious. I could not keep a straight face.
Another laugh came when a student was reading a section from her essay in class. She had decided to write about the problems associated with school aged girls being sexually active. But then got into a section that was clearly plagiarized. Because it was all about a study that talked about 'sex during the golden years'. I figure she thought she was living the golden years. She about died when I told her that her paper was interesting, but I didn't know when she changed her topic to being about sex amongst old people. Favorite plagiarism busting ever.
My student was so nervous he hardly slept. Neither did I. He spent three hours working on the 40 questions. Then came out of the room, sweaty and tired. I waited nervously for results. The testing director passed by the room I was in and gave me a sad thumb's down. Two questions from success. But it's an all or nothing situation. Damn. Now I had to tell my student. He was sitting at his desk in the advisory wringing his hands. Telling him felt like kicking him in the balls. Then punching him in the gut. Then slapping his face. He shrunk with the news. Got teary. So did I. Damn. One of the worst days of my teaching career. We have a plan in place to make it through this hoop at the next opportunity. I hope it works.
Good thing my job also brings me to tears of joy. Shortly after this sad testing experience I overheard this conversation between two burly, mechanically-minded, fabulous boys: "You know, I've tried them, but I've found that skinny jeans just do not fit my lifestyle." "Yeah, I know what you mean." They were all serious. I could not keep a straight face.
Another laugh came when a student was reading a section from her essay in class. She had decided to write about the problems associated with school aged girls being sexually active. But then got into a section that was clearly plagiarized. Because it was all about a study that talked about 'sex during the golden years'. I figure she thought she was living the golden years. She about died when I told her that her paper was interesting, but I didn't know when she changed her topic to being about sex amongst old people. Favorite plagiarism busting ever.
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