Pivotal Potency: An Educators Strength (306)

To pivot, pushing down on your heel and changing your physical direction. Seeing something out of the corner of your eye, and turning your head to see the full view. Making sure you are not in a permanent position, but one that allows sudden curves and launch sites to send you redirected. This is second nature for most teachers, this is a part of our prowess and psyche. We learn to pivot so we can perform and perceive from the best vantage point.

Potency, the power of something to make an impression or engage someone in conversation or action. These words, gestures or activities need to be grand in order to attract or influence. They need to have flare and flair. A spark of energy, a burst of creativity but also panache and inventiveness. They are after-all, the basis for learning, they strengthen the energy that gets peoples attention, they are the verve that sets us apart as educators.

We all pivot, we all have a potency enduring and endearing for we do grab the recognition, observation and scrutiny of our students. At times we lose potency. We feel watered down, mixed up, drained of our liveliness. But we do not switch off, or unplug, or go dormant. Rather we take a moment or two to rejuvenate and then we jump right back in again. Because we know the importance of pivotal potency. We thrive on it professionally.

We need mental assurance we can handle it- and we reaffirm this every day as we traverse new situations and circumstances. 

We are voices of calm amongst the thunder. 

We offer the umbrella and yet keep marching in the storm because we know once we clear its edges- sunshine awaits. 

When we aim our focus- pivot our glance and gather our flock, there is no stopping us. We are a giant, invisible, hug- wrapped around our students, they may not be able to hug us back- but they feel our presence, they feel our compassion, they hear our positive words- and for this we are pivotal, we are potent, we are pivotal potency.

Classroom Hidden Gems: You've Got to Search for Them Sometimes (302)

Hidden: potential, optimism, strength, confidence. We all have these qualities- yet sometimes they allude us. The dirt settles, they get covered with the dust and miasma of a hard days work. They get forgotten because we get so hyper focused on our jobs, our life. These beautiful characteristics at times need to be aired out, like crisp sheets on the clothes line. Refreshed with every gentle breeze.

We get weighted down, our classrooms feel stagnate at times, when we are feeling the loss of movement and interaction. But, we can still have them. We can instill in our students the tools to scavenge and dig, to find these: potential, optimism, strength, confidence. Remind them they possess these powerful tools. Our focus is distracted, diffused like scattered beams of hope. We are all trying to be present, stay motivated- when we are afraid of the virulence of it all.

We need to make sure in our classrooms to dig deep. To open the chests of submersion and discover the shiny excitement and engagement that all of our students are eager to put on display. They are ready to interact whether on zoom or at a desk- they are ready to discuss, collaborate and share ideas. We just have to have safe ways for them to do so.

I used a lot of breakout rooms on Zoom this week. I used round tables in my classroom for discussions. I had 1-minute check-ins. I asked broad questions and let my classes discuss openly on a discussion board and in a verbal conversation. It got noisy- but only temporarily. They on their own figured out a way to make it work. I simply listened and I learned a lot from them. Opinions matter, dissention is inevitable but trust and respect is achievable with one simply action- the act of humility.

The act of listening. The act of taking turns. Of making sure we choose our words to express our meaning not to demean the words or ideas of others. We often are afraid to let our students truly take the reigns. But, when we do, once we have set up parameters and designed a positive community, we can. We can because they will feel safe to share and disagree- but in the end- they smile. In the end they go to the next class, not drudging this conversation behind them- but moving forward having learned something from it.

I was amazed to see how well my classes interacted and discussed with such trust and respect. I model this of course- but when it happens it is such a beautiful thing to witness. Hidden gems. Those quiet students who shine when everyone chooses respect and tolerance. When everyone looks for the good in one another. I absolutely love teaching, love being an educator, love being an observer to the open dialogue that trust imbibes in a classroom. 

Spirit is everything. It can be hidden under the weight of  contagion but it is slowly removed from the dark crevices when we believe in our students. I for one, believe in mine. Not just on paper but in action, in interaction, in organized chaos. In noisy engagement and quiet reflection. In the real world, talking over each other but then settling into the conversation moments.

I know that they have a lot going on and are carrying a lot of doubt and fear. They need a haven for expression. A safe place to just be themselves- not just feel they have a voice, but to use it. This week we got to use ours to really talk science and reasoning- and the gems, they glistened bright. Never to be buried again.

The Bigger the River, The Bigger the Drought (299)

You find out what you are, when the driest of spells overtakes the flow. 

Identity magnifies. 

We are all swirling in a quagmire of mud slinging and division. We need to store up the power from the sun- the energy from camaraderie and collaboration. It needs to vibrate and shake loose the gorge of complacency- from which the onslaught of awareness and self-appreciation emerges. The rapids of awakening, rushing past.

Every way you turn, every angle- is shadowed just a bit. 

Muffled under the deluge of doubt. 

Fear mongers making us feel we do not have a choice. We do not have a voice. But if we rattle and hum loud enough and with such fierceness, the surface with our resolve- the foundation of our hope and grace- will allow us to be heard. Together we will churn loose the stagnancy of resolve. What is beneath our exhaustion, self-doubt and dusty exteriors is an energy unmatched. How do I know?

I was trapped beneath the rubble. The murky waters of despair nearly silenced me. But I pushed, prodded, pleaded with myself- until every last stone of doubt was removed. 

The heft displaced, but the heaviness remains. Some days a harder struggle to stay afloat. Some days I just drift down steam, looking up at the constant shift of cumulus and stratus. But most days now- are laden with an enthusiasm I had unfortunately buried.

The bigger the river, the more responsibility, the heavier the burden of reality- the bigger the drought. The more the dirt covers us, hardening into a clay, cracking away at our positivity. It is inevitable. 

But, we also have control over our weather fronts, our climate, local forecasts. We are the meteorologists of our emotions and presence. At times is is thunderous and volcanic even- smoky and foggy. But, we always get the rain. We always get the storm: both cleansing and refreshing.

Umbrellas or rain boots- We have a way to stay dry in the down pour. 

Sleds or skis- we have a way out of the avalanche. 

We have an escape plan. We always do. We have nothing to prove to anyone but ourselves. So when you feel drenched, frost-bitten and buried under the ballast of responsibility- breathe. Believe. Then keep moving forward. The voice in your head should be your own. Keep it positive, keep it focused- keep it real. 

Because real- real is all we have these days.

Level of Craftsmanship- Student Independence (298)

Independence can be granted. Gifted. But it also needs to be shaped, chiseled and edged. Carved and smoothed. 

It can be appreciated. Valued. Entrusted and used with such fervor, as to lead to new horizons. It sets new expectations and achieves such heights, unachievable with constraint. But it also, especially in a classroom, needs to be structured and maintained. There is a fine line between organized, purposeful chaos and unorganized, needless freedom.

At times independence needs to be reined in, halted even- albeit temporarily. For when we emphasize its value- it becomes priceless to students. It becomes a necessity. They covet it. In return they honor the privilege. If you remove it or pause it- you may be unpopular for a spell, but if you trust your instincts, return it with trust, they will believe in you. Students understand discipline- they secretly yearn for it.

I have flexible seating in my classroom. 

Sometimes, students nudge me into a corner, and I have to remove the flexibility for a bit. I get the eye rolls and an occasional foot stomp- but after they move to a new location- they resync with the class. 

They are no longer a drift. They feel a permanence they were lacking. They often can not put their finger on why they were misbehaving- but after their new location is forged, they find a newfound connection. You can see it in their eyes- a deeper sense of presence.

This week, as most, has felt uncertain. A ringing in our minds and ears an uneasiness. A lot of things in the world- ricocheting off the classroom walls. Leaving marks. Grooves noticeable, yet topics often unspoken. So, it is within reason to run into some behavior that mimics the dents and scratches of the turbulence.

The most important thing we can do as educators- is to pause. 

To pause our judgements, our frustrations, our impatience- and observe. Really take the time to stand aside and watch. To listen. To unravel the demons from the wonderful aspect of what we do. We became teachers to make a difference. Not just in learning, in academics in curriculum. But in the social, emotional and well-being of our students.

It is alright to call them out, privately. Not with shame but with compassion. Start by asking them- “How can I help you?”- “Is there something you need me to do to make this class more successful for you?”- “I am so very happy you are here, in our classroom, do you feel part of this classroom? If you do not- that is my fault and I apologize. What can I do to make sure you do feel a part of it?”

You will be amazed at the response. 

I said all of these to students this week. I saw their faces change from frustration, doubt, and uneasiness to a calm resolve, a level of awe in fact. These students needed to hear these words. They needed for me to make eye contact, smile beneath my mask, eye wrinkles squinched. They needed me to make the connection they were reluctant to make. 

and

I, I needed to make it too.

The Detonation of Euphoria (293)

Prolonged motivation for some comes easily. Dedication to their cause, action, thinking is engrained in their spirit. They breathe it, swim in it. For others, it gets ignited, sparks an inner revolution, causing a surge of activity. But it sustains for spurts and lunges. The in between, the gaps, the empty spaces connecting the detonations of euphoria- these are the quiet times where the energy is building for me at least. If I hang on top of the rush for too long, I fizzle. 

I think like a big fish in a small pond, but actually live my life a small fish in a big one. I do not envy those on the constant ripple. For me, I need to swim to the bottom frequently, rest in the darkness and rejuvenate. Only then, can I look up and see the potential shining down upon me. I try to do too much- I see others doing fantastic things and want to do the same. But, then the ripples become waves and I am forced to merely float and observe.

This is not to say that I do not do extraordinary things. I know I do. But, I generally accomplish them on my arduous path. Things for me have always come with a bit of struggle. But, my ten thousand hours eventually pay off, just within the frame of my own construction. I am aware that others are more successful- more recognized, more idolized. At moments of weakness, I compare. I retreat into a murky void. But, I always return to the flow, active and energized.

This seems to be a time of such detonations and explosions of opinion, exploration, discovery and circumstance. Moments where we feel swallowed by the whale, ripped apart by the piranha's and belly up- we try to resist the onslaught of doubt, guilt and shattering confidence. We are all doing our best. We are all filling our niche and taking care of those around us. We as educators are keeping our heads above the murk, within the sunlight- yet we are also treading the surface.

Changes and setbacks forever tugging at our feet, like riptides generated by a vengeful virus. We swim to the edge, holding on tight to our pre-placed buoy's and rafts. Yet, these do not feel sturdy enough. We are in a constant tidepool, circling the drain. Educators are resilient. They are thought leaders. Game changers, inventors, engineers and artists. So we build new platforms on which we can rise from the waters of settlement. As things settle to the floor, others stir the moss and seagrass free- forever obscuring.

We swim, we paddle, we oar, we drift, But we continue our movement our momentum towards our goal. Creating liberating lessons rather than laborious ones. Creating atmospheres of energetic transformation- where what we say and what we do align, into a surge of positivity and hope. Students are behind screen or behind desks- but they are following us. We must take them towards these moments of detonation and euphoria.

We must not get bogged down with semantics and structure. Organization yes. Flexibility yes. But the routines and pacing must be adaptable. Why does every second of every day need to be mapped out. How adventurous is that? How do students engage in a lesson, so specific, it leaves no room for self-expression? How can they think for themselves and remain encouraged to thrive, if what we give them as educators, is a recipe with no margin for creativity. We have to let loose- we have to allow our students to let loose.

The weight of the fuel often slows the lift off. Yet it is required for the journey. We must not pack the rocket with books and worksheets- we need to fill it with gear and tools that will inspire our students to step foot out of the rocket itself. To land their feet on new terrain - we are all learning this new world together. If we step back a little bit- get less formal- listen and learn from them. Discover their motivating sparks- the ignition will be continual, the soar exponential and our sanity, our mindset, our emotional and physical well being- it will rise too.

This is the detonation we all must be seeking. The euphoria of a steady pace. A hopeful and engaging classroom. A mindful and balanced frame of mind. When these sync and the focused explosion occurs- there is no damage- only destruction of old ways of thinking, of old ways of doing things- that didn't work. Lets strike the matches of change- lets keep the flames of transformation ignited and kindle the fire and it will continue to burn and we will continue to thrive.

The Hope of Scope (290)

 There is a sense of relief and freedom after I get a week of virtual lessons in the system. Making sure it is fun, engaging, organized, meaningful, challenging, and that it meets all objectives, standards and pacing- is exhausting. Then having to convert the virtual to the face to face and vice-versa is even more daunting. Yet, I do it every weekend. Chipping away at the mountain, daily. 

All the while teaching a full day, mentoring a Quiz Bowl team and tutoring students, and performing my weekly duties. This doesn't even touch on the grading, checking assessments, creating videos or podcasts of virtual class lectures and raising a family. 

The scope of being an educator is vast. It is often such a weight, we lay down on the asphalt of our calendar and weep. Some days we close our doors tight and simply teach- pushing those around us away. But most days, we smile and we feel the surge of energy our choice of profession brings us. What was once a symbol of our calling- full, bustling arena's of learning- has changed. It has changed etiquette and experience.

It often feels more like a trial than a party. Always on the watch for proximity. Students steering towards, us directing them apart. Where they once could venture has now been cordoned off. The yellow warning tape and orange construction cones marking off uninhabitable zones. All we are missing is the blinking lights of danger ahead. 

Yet, it is necessary- it feels heavy, this constant reminder of Covid.

Sometimes, for brief moments - as they sit in their seats, me walking about- I forget. Then my muffled voice, whispers from behind cloth. I have to annunciate and resonate. Clamor and boom to be heard from behind this protective barrier, this separator, this cage. My hope of scope becomes less fragile daily. I have learned to pontificate precisely and with fervor.

Knowing that it will be my new voice for awhile for those in my orbit. It is funny though, once my mask drops and my students become virtual- I speak loud for a bit. And I have to remind myself to lower my volume and amplify my body movement and animation. 

What a world- who would have thought that this beautiful presence we all possess would take such a beating, and from the ashes phoenix. We are all phoenix's and we are all born to do this. Take flight my brethren and together our flock will change the world.

Mobility, Agility, Pliability (289)

 Change is inevitable, so they say. We all understand this in every aspect of our lives. We chose to become educators. We chose to stay. We chose to believe in ourselves. You do not just become a teacher over night. You go to college, you pass exams, you state certify. 

You apply, interview, prove and justify your skills. You find your groove, only to find it has worn and that you need to lift up the needle and find another. Your record spinning and wearing down, slowly at a pace uncontrollable.

The record gets flipped. The B side playing unknown tunes. The A side holding your favorites, hidden, face down on the turn table of our profession. We have crates of our favorite artists', our favorite vinyl soundtracks. 

They are currently in storage. I miss the crackle, the static that is familiar of the moments in my past. That p[articular sound, that subtle difference between crispness and glorious originality. I hear that noise, that beautiful crackling and I am taken back.

I miss that memory. They memory of hands digging through a makerspace. The screech of chalk on the blackboard. The shuffle of chairs being pulled together for group work. It seems so strange- the absence of noise. I hear voices 3 class periods a day, from behind masks, the voices of students.

 I hear voices of unmasked virtual learners 3 classes a day. But no matter the class period- I yearn for the normalcy, the collective, energetic collision of close proximity of collaboration.

Mobility halted, except within transition. Our agility and flexibility muted. Yet, our pliability has become even more stretchy because we pull and flex, contract and twist into our new smaller personal space. We might need to remain distanced physically- but we cross barriers and the void with our common thread of eagerness to be together. 

We may have dispensed with the hugs, handshakes and fist bumps- but our masked smiles and wide eyes, has created a different kind of communication- quiet ambition rooted in visual sound. It might not crackle or spin- but it definitely moves us.

Nomadic, Sporadic, Somatic (288)

 Feeling alone, yet immersed into the realm of Zoom. Quiet room. A bit of loom, as I await the inbound voices about to disrupt the slow, fizzle of virtual teaching. I appreciate it, yet dread it. I am a teacher, one who moves about, exaggerates with gestures and posture- and for half my school day, I am constrained into a screen no bigger than a window. A small one at that- I could never climb out of it into a larger landscape.

It is a nomadic existence mingled in with a Viking like determination. I will get there, I will traverse even the most turbulent of seas, to land upon the shores of engagement. Even if my facial expressions have been masked within a tiny box, on a tiny screen. Yet, I dance in my seat, creating a sense of action, within homes far from my reach and approach.

I try desperately to draw them in, lure them in- remind them it is not merely a multi-box assemblage but a classroom. We are separated, arrival sporadic- voices loud or muffled within the larger din of learning. Smaller groups can assemble- within a room, even more isolated. Yet, the sporadic nature can become more focused, more meaningful- if we plan, if we organize.

My world is somatic, affecting me in a way opposing a calm mind and spirit- but I seize the opportunity daily to reverse the slippage- to kick aside the covered layer of my path. I seek the less travelled because it allows me to stay free. I plan as a team, yet I uniquely create my domain, my garden and as they enter, in groups and an eventual trickle- my nomadic adventure stabilizes and my clarity fuses with the opportunity of a good day.

I remain hopeful and with that hope comes relationships. This my cherished existence. This my reason. My grade. My dream. My tomorrow.

Ten Phrases- Five Words that will Change your Classroom Leadership (285)

There is a sense of isolation sometimes, for educators. We feel alone in our wilderness- often trying to pull back the foliage and climb the vines towards the light, all the while leading a group of explorers behind us. Each with a machete in hand, carving out their own path. There is no way we can get our students to follow us into the jungle if we do not excite them and engage them with stories of adventure and discovery.

We have to create such a sense of curiosity, that even the darkest and densely overgrown of forests, will seem traversable. Even better, attainable with a hint of obstruction. A clear field is not exciting, but a primeval forest, a hinterland of unknowns- that is the ticket. That is the queue they will stand in for hours. That is the imaginable becoming the manageable. That is learning.

As educators, we want to be the voice of reason. The voice of knowledge. The voice of consistency and hope. Yet, we as leaders often want to appear strong and invincible. But it is the vulnerability, the “I’ve made a mistake and I apologize. I corrected it and now it is all good,” that allows our explorers to trust us. Every travel party takes a wrong turn now and again. That is part of the journey.

I have been a teacher for a long time, I have also upon reflection, noticed many mistakes I have made in regard to, the ten phrases educators need to become comfortable saying. One of which is above. Apologizing for simple mistakes, even a misspelled word on a document means a lot. It shows you accept yourself as a learner too.

These phrases I have listed below. I am sure most of us have wanted to say them, but maybe thought about to long and the moment passed. They may be something we feel comfortable revealing about ourselves on occasion, or they are a common turn of phrase. However, they are phrases, that overtime have become more comfortable members of my vernacular and for it- they have created deeper relationships with my students.

• I am sorry, I made a mistake and have corrected it.
• I am sorry, I did not ask you if you needed help.
• I am sorry, I let my frustration rear its ugly head.
• I understand, you need time to process, I will stop talking for a minute.
• I trust you, you got this.
• I do not know the answer. I will find out for you.
• I do not know how to do that can you help me?
• Thank you for allowing me to teach you today.
• Thank you for being you, you add a smile to my face every day.
• You are rock stars, I simply the roadie.

These statements are spoken every week now. The words I have made integral to my speech have also become my catch words- like my catch phrases above.

The five words seem obvious. Words we should use every day in our lives, inside and outside the classroom. Yet, we get busy, distracted, and lost so much in our dilemma- we can forget. But, when I pause, listen, and respond- actually address the issue- I find, everything becomes easier. Morale becomes positive, frustration wanes and trust heightens exponentially. It really does. I do not like to admit when I am wrong. I do not like to be questioned when I feel I am right. None of us do- but it should be a job requirement for educators.

We are not in this profession to create followers and acceptors. We are in this profession to help students think for themselves. To question things that do not make sense to them. To not blindly listen to leaders, but to investigate and discover the facts. Then choose what they believe is the right path to traverse- the right jungle to enter with their machete of knowledge, analyzation, and reason.

It stings, it really does when students question our technique, our word choice, our flow. But we have to. We have to lower our guard and truly listen. Because our classroom is not a stage where the audience sits in quiet reverie. It is a wilderness of branches that scratch, bugs that bite and sting. Yet, within its density and bramble are beautiful flowers, plumage of birds and succession of life. Stages of growth, all powerful and transformative.

We need to say aloud our fears, realize them, and use them as signposts, markers in our exploration. Like trackers we can use them to find our way through troubling and overwhelming times. We are living within a storm of uncertainty and as such- we are being bombarded with branches obscuring our path, underbrush wrapping around our feet- passing seems difficult at best.

But we have our own machete: honesty, acceptance, appreciation, faith, hope and grace. 

It is this, our belief in this amazing outback. This gorgeous back country- often unexplored, that will be our salvation. We are looking for the end, yet it is off in the distance. What we need to be doing, is taking it all in. Running our fingers against the bark, feeling out its rough edges, but also recognizing its simplicity and symmetry. The wilderness has a lot to offer. Especially when we slow our pace, listen for the sounds of nature, and welcome the interaction between self and woodland, individual and thicket, timber, and tree.

For the wilderness is beholden to the energy of what surrounds it, builds it, feeds it, nurtures it. As leaders we are the wind, the rain, the soil and for this we have a responsibility- to not hinder- but allow accessible, the parts of ourselves others seek as the foundation of their own shelter and grove. Let’s be a force of nature both transforming and gracious- this is our grace, this is our gift, this is our germination.

 

Friday Foot Race, Weekend Whimsy (284)

 The foot is fastened securely.....

The bell has rung loudly....

I depart....graciously

The weekend welcomes me with open arms....

A Temper Tantrum becomes a Reason to Connect (283)

 I have a lot of patience. I am a very positive person. I am also a forgiving person. I clean slate every day. There is absolutely no reason to hold a grudge against a student. They say things they don't mean, they are impulsive, they are obstinate and yes, at times infuriating- but, they are children and well, children are immature and learning how to navigate their world. We as educators need to respect that and allow a few mishaps every now and then.

I teach three classes of 40 virtually on Zoom. I also teach three classes of about 20 in person. I bounce back and forth between them throughout the day. Mask on, mask off. It takes a lot of calm, Karate exercise and mind control at times to maneuver the course laid out before me. Some days things go smoothly, others, not so much. Sometimes the crowd gets restless and rowdy. 

Today a student, having the decorum at least to do it privately in chat and not verbally in front of the Zoom class, decided to throw what he called a "temper tantrum of mass destruction." He got confused on an assignment and just lost it. I tried explaining it, step by step, he sent a message basically saying I didn't know how to teach and he needs a better teacher.

I let that one go. I responded, "I am sorry you are confused and frustrated but I am trying to help you. Your words are not a question they are an attack." He escalated, "I am stuck in my house, screaming younger brother. I can't concentrate. I am in a class of 40 and I feel lost. I know we have 1-minute check in's but I don't have questions then- when I do you are helping someone else." This all being typed furiously in a chat box.

I reminded him to take a breath. Just breathe. Stop typing, close your eyes and just calm yourself. It will be alright. The chat remained quiet for a few minutes. Then he came back and with a noticable turn of vocabulary and demeanor. Then he apologized and said that he just needed to vent. "Adults often treat us as voiceless beings, we can't complain or anything. But you listened and now I know I can trust you. You are a good teacher, I didn't mean to say that." - "It's alright" I said, "we all have days like these."

"Clean slate," I said. "I understand. All I ask is that when you get this unraveled, that you stop before you act in a way that is unkind to others." He told me he would. Then he added, "Teachers often just punish us for our outburst and do not take the time to listen. To just listen. We are struggling now more than ever." I smiled, "I am happy that I listened, you just needed to be heard."

"Yes, especially now when we are so isolated- we need to be heard and believed in. We are good kids who are trying to find their way in this crazy time." 

"I am here for you", I said. He replied "I am thankful for that, I need someone now more than ever in my corner."

This is a student I have spoken to in 1-minute check in's but not really in class. He stays quiet in class. I understand in a class of 40 on Zoom it can be intimidating. But had I shut him down, I would have lost him forever. Now that we have had this moment- we have this bond.

Curator of My Own Menagerie (280)

 Menagerie, exhibition, aquarium, wild life park- in other words an adventure. An experience. A place you go to observe, enjoy and interact with something new.

a classroom maybe?

Our classroom menageries are what we allow students to build and design. The volume, the energy.

It needs curating every now and then....

I silently curating....

Students moving about, discussing, experiencing....

what a theme park indeed.

Stick, Puck, Goal: The Mayhem of Classroom Dynamics (279)

The ice is smooth, the Zamboni just made it slicker. Skates slip and slide, yet the players, expert skaters, take to the ice effortlessly. Entering the field as if they were born there. I observe, students making their way into the room, beelining it for their favorite seat. Settling in, rummaging through their backpacks. 

It looks like the game is about to begin. The loudest of the group can be heard as they walk down the hall. Their voice bellows, like the starting horn to a hockey game. Sticks smack the ground. Puck tossed into the ring. Players gather to their places, eyeing the puck.

The class becomes more full, the energy begins to vibrate. You can feel the anticipation. It is lab day and they know there is something cool about to happen- equipment has been laid out on each table. Mystery baskets with signs saying do not touch until told to do so. Some students are bending over to try to peek inside, to no avail.

The puck ricochets and the action begins. It falls just out of reach, as students must wait for instructions. Sticks flailing, bodies falling, the action has begun to play out in their minds, yet they are stationary. I speed up my introduction, eyeing the inquisitive hands that begin to reach for the baskets of lab equipment.

What may to some feel like chaos, mayhem- I discern as pattern and flow. I can anticipate what is going to happen faster than it does. I see the details of a spilled basket, and catch it in time. I make my way around the room- listening. Watching the puck move from stick to stick.

Waiting for the first shot at the goal. Cheers erupt. I can see them figuring things out, discussing the process, beginning to plan their strategy. Another goal. Cheers louder this time. Students up and interacting, masked and distancing. Yet, the energy is contagious- it is fluid and active.

A classroom lab is like a hockey game. Loud and mobile. Students standing and sitting at their tables as they work through the experiment. It is beautiful to watch. Like players in a hockey game they bump sticks, smack pucks and make goals- and as an educator, I simply watch in bewilderment and awe at their pure imagination and curiosity.

The final horn screams out a conclusion. An end to the game. Students look at the score board and notice their success. They slide off the ice, take off their skates and shake off another day of adventure. The mayhem slows and they walk out into the hall, crowded with spectators of other games, of other stadiums, of other learning experiences.

And here it is... (276)

 October 1st. Wow! Autumn unfolds in a slightly cooler temperature, yet beneath the ordinary shine of a Texas sun.

Pumpkin Spice Latte's, Halloween decorations and the question- will next Halloween be different?