My grandma’s health is failing. She’s 89 and determined to live on her own, to have her family over for Sunday dinner, for coffee during the week. But she fell a few weekends ago, landed in the hospital, and now an assisted living center. This summer, it felt a bit...
I remember the exact moment of fifth grade — sitting in my desk, watching my teacher explaining a spelling game — when I promised myself that if I ever became a teacher, I would not forget what it felt like to be a student. But I do it all the time. Our desks and...
Late last summer, I had myself convinced that I was zero percent sentimental about sending my youngest child off to kindergarten. In a constant race to keep up with his older brothers, he is my bold and brave one. Fiercely independent, he seemed about ready to start...
A few years ago we purchased my husband’s childhood home from his parents. I love the sprawling backyard that overlooks a farm – waking to the pink light of the sun rising over the field, the distant sound of a tractor, the wild turkey that pecks and scurries around...
Hands down my favorite moments as a teacher are those of authentic engagement — that rare intersection of attention, curiosity, interest, and passion. Every lesson plan, every strategy, every procedure is an attempt to mix a potion that will help...
inˈten(t)SH(ə)n(ə)l/ adjective: done on purpose; deliberate. Synonyms: calculated, conscious, intended, purposeful I talk to my writing students about audience all the time — “Know your audience,” I tell them, “Your tone, your style, your voice...
We were gathered around a table for book club — a book club that does include some discussion of a book, but mainly provides a chance to decompress, to gather a group of women around a patio and chat without being needed or summoned by anyone else for a few...
I’m a sucker for all things nostalgic — old photo albums, worn notes or ticket stubs. I can’t resist the “On this Day” Facebook pictures that pop up, showing me my posts and memories from this day just two, five, eight years ago. I’m a slow, distracted organizer...
I’m writing today from my sunroom table, my favorite summer writing spot. I’ve mentioned this favorite place before — the light breeze through the screened doors, the farmer’s fields lit up bright green by the morning sun, the robins chirping away. But this...
One of the most maddening, is-it-bedtime-yet moments in my parental life is when, most often in the car, one of my kids whines because his brother is looking at him the wrong way. “He is smiling at me,” they cry and whine. Or even “He keeps looking at me.”...