Adventures in Spring Cleaning: The Cleaning Games We Play – Part 4
I’m down to my last green Rainblo, which I chew slowly as I dump materials from mind-numbingly boring conferences, a pack of thank-you cards that are too ugly to send, and old school newsletters that never adequately documented what a privilege it is for students to learn in my classroom.
Adventures in Spring Cleaning: The Cleaning Games We Play – Part 3
I resolve that I will no longer own things that I do not use, and so I plant my feet firmly on the foam inserts and chop out a custom mold of my left foot which, I notice, looks like Illinois.
Adventures in Spring Cleaning: The Cleaning Games We Play – Part 2
Right after this resolution I uncover a squishy, plastic microphone that squeaks. This is emphatically not part of the stupid category, since my dog Wrigley’s lip synching just wouldn’t be the same without it. After that comes a half-destroyed tennis ball, a mangled rope, and a supposedly “life-like” squirrel developed to train hunting dogs, which Wrigley lugs around happily as if it his mascot.
Adventures in Spring Cleaning: The Cleaning Games We Play – Part 1
Oddly, though, I love orange candles so much that I save them for the most special of special occasions. What this means, practically, is that my best orange candles live in a plastic Tupperware container tucked beneath my bed. As you can imagine, they bring joy to millions there.
My Voice is a Pavlovian Bell
"My instruction is a complete success. I'm an inspiring teacher...then I realize my voice is a Pavlovian bell for the shaggy kid in the back row to put his head down on his desk and for another kid to begin drawing endless concentric circles on his shoe." -Picking Dandelions
(Note: You can read the rest of this excerpt on pg. 26 of the MEA Magazine. Are you wanting to start writing your own book? Here are some free resources to help you on your way)