Goodbye Chalkboards, Hello Whiteboards



R.I.P. Chalkboard



If I to spot a highway patrolman aiming a radar gun my way, I automatically tap the breaks even though I’m not speeding.  Sometimes authority elicits a Pavlovian response from me.  So, when Mr. Miller and Mr. Ritenour from Maintenance strode into my room last week wearing serious faces, I worried.  Their expressions prompted a quick self-check which brought to mind two potential problems:    A couple of weeks ago, the fire department warned us that our art cart’s location near the kiln posed a fire hazard.  And two, my students recently removed Christmas paintings from the school windows using razor blades.   A discreet glance in the direction of the cart sadly confirmed its unresolved proximity to the kiln room.  As far as the windows, one might have been damaged in the process of scraping off paint.  On one hand I pictured getting officially cited and fined by the fire department; while on the other, a ruined window loomed in the hallway.  (I don’t even want to think about what that costs).  Discretion being the better part of valor, I decided to wait and see which of the problems I needed to answer by inquiring, “What can I do for you?”  in as cheerful a voice as I could manage.

You could have pushed me over with a feather when they both broke into wide smiles and asked if I’d still like to switch out our chalkboards for whiteboards.  Thanks to a local university who donated rather than discard them, we inherited whiteboards which otherwise were out of our reach this year.   Needless to say, when they left, I immediately remedied the art cart situation and re-examined the windows.  “No worries,” as the Aussies would say, cart and windows now pass scrutiny.   Our ability to quickly and easily remove marks vastly improved overnight with the use of whiteboards – we just love them.  I am wondering about my ability to accurately decipher facial expressions, though.   I need to bone up on my Paul Ekman.

The World Can Stop for an Afternoon

Life is painted in squares of color, post-it notes cover my computer, the garage door, purse and grade book.  What was the world like before post-its?  This week is an over-sized to-do list with items checked off as they’re completed.  Here is my list for the first two days of the new semester:

Syllabus completed and distributed - check

Lesson plans for first lessons typed out and handed into principal - check

PowerPoint’s for class overviews completed and moved to zip drive – check

Grades in Edline for last semester by 8:00 a.m. today – check

Mural sign-up sheet and letter posted to Edline – check

Mini-term handouts and supply order sheet completed – check

School Christmas windows cleaned – (kid power rocks!) – check

Scholastic art show entries dropped off at local university – check

Despite all this post-it note productivity, my Christmas tree is still in the living room along with all our holiday decorations.  Yet, I’m not glancing at another sticky square of paper with demanding line item tasks today.    The world stops for me this afternoon so I can sit in my rocking chair with no other agenda than to feel a baby’s soft breath against my check as we rock back and forth.   There’s nothing like a grandchild to give one perspective on what really matters.

Purple Dreams and Sumatra Coffee

Too much caffeine

If anyone says people don’t dream in color, I surmise that they don't drink coffee.  After a nice little cuppa the other night, I  dreamt that some well-meaning soul had given our art room a makeover in purple.    Even the ceiling tiles had been repainted a grayish -violet.  Our demonstration island as well as all desk and counter tops now glowed with  purple laminate.   I reached out to touch the  transformed  surface in disbelief and realized that our back counter and cabinetry had been entirely replaced with pale lavender  hallway  lockers.  Quickly checking my watch,   I calculated that I had exactly one minute to figure out where all my supplies had been  moved before students spilled through the doorway.  I could feel my heart pounding and a swell of panic rising as the hands on the clock approached 9:38.  I woke up with a start as the bell rung.  From here on out, I'll stick to decaf coffee after 7:00 p.m.

The Greatest Gift

"The Nativity" by Elizabeth Brott, circa 2002

This is a cherished treasure made by my daughter, Elizabeth, in her younger years.  She fashioned the pieces from Sculpy Clay.  I love their simplicity and personality.



Snow Day!

 Snow Day - an unexpected gift

Ingrained in their DNA, northeast Ohio students are capable of scanning a weather map to identify the next big front likely to sweep into the area and shut everything down.  Of course, anecdotally, a surfeit of ice cubes find their way into the sewer system and pajamas get worn backwards to ensure a clipper veers our way.  Although I've never put much stock in that kind of thing, when I want the real skinny on the probability of a snow day, I catch the talk in the elementary wing.  Working on a mural a couple of winters ago in their hallway, I came away with a healthy respect for their meteorological abilities.  Today being Monday though, I didn't know what to expect since I couldn't canvas my reliable calamity day experts.  When I got the call at 6:10 a.m. today, I took it as an unexpected gift of time.

Finger Dancing

My daughter, Kate, demonstrates 9 x 2

The other day one of my students rattled off a mnemonic device which enabled him to remember the number of days in specific months.  That segued into a trick I’ve long used to remember my multiplication facts. Demonstrating using my two hands, I illustrated how to read the nine’s tables by depressing various fingers.  Surprised by its simplicity, several senior high school boys unabashedly placed both hands in front of them, fingers going up and down testing the system.  It was a rather sweet cross curricular moment – visual art meets finger dancing math. I can just picture our stellar math teacher  groaning at the sight of seniors using their appendages to count.   I suppose it’s only fair if he decides to fire off some thanksgiving hand turkeys to make us even.  

You paint the windows?????

 Snowmen  by Kaitlin1173

Yep – once a year we spread some Christmas cheer and paint the windows around school.  This Saturday,  15 art club students and one alumni wielded their paint -laden brushes to the likes of Family Force Five and Trans Siberian Orchestra reverberating down the hallways. As a veteran window painter, here is a short list of things I’ve learned:

1.       If you don’t have a spare razor blade, avoid applying more than 3 coats of tempera paint to any given area. (Right Kathleen?)

2.       Did you know that those handy little green scrubbies actually scratch the windows?  Yeah, found that out the hard way.  When it’s time to remove your paintings, either have an excellent relationship with the person who regularly cleans the windows; or,  get yourself a large bottle of  glass cleaner, a box of clean rags, and 15 kids.  

3.      Unless you want a conversation with administration about menacing looking snowmen, all snowmen need to be on their best behavior and stick to doing what they do best.

4.       Although kids won’t choose the Amy Grant or James Taylor Christmas albums from the playlist, they will remain permanently embedded on my iPod as classics.  Fact.

It's beginning to look at lot like Christmas...