schoolinspirations

The list sits on my counter for about two months. Written on the back of a 4 x 4.5 inch square from a page-a-day calendar. It’s entitled “MARCH SOLC.” Written in blue and black ink or sharpie or pencil, crossed out in the same, it hold a list of possible slice ideas.

These ideas start accumulating in February as my brain gets ready for the monthly challenge. Ideas start to come to me. Some will be used, others will not. On most days, I wake up and start thinking about my slice and come up with an ideas as I get ready for my day. Sometimes the events from the day or the news inspire me. Other times, I pick from my list. As the monthly challenge starts, I add to the list and then cross off the title as the entry is written.

This year’s list only has one topic that is unwritten, “Sitting ducks in the canal.” I know why I didn’t write this one. There wasn’t much more to it. It was just the image of ducks actually sitting in a dry canal bed along with the irony of the statement, “sitting ducks.” I didn’t have more to say.

Now, on day 31, with a final entry, the list can be removed from my counter. Until next year, which will be year 14, when a new list will start to evolve around February.

After 13 years of this challenge, I do have some routines: make a list, post early, comment later, and make a hard copy book as you go. Order the book on the last day of the challenge as a gift and reward for yourself.

Here’s to the list! Here’s to another year of completing the monthly challenge. Here’s to another year of documenting my “here and now.”

For 3 more months I have the pleasure of driving to school with my son. He has his permit currently, so he needs me. Next year he’ll have his license and won’t need me for that drive to school. Driving with him each morning has been so fun. Sometimes we just sit in silence, sometimes we cross off things on our “to-do” list, sometimes we talk about logistics of upcoming plans. But always, we listen to music. Max sets the playlist.

I can tell his mood by the songs he chooses to play. We laugh when a song with explicit language comes on and I say, “LANGUAGE!” and he hits the “Skip” button.

Sometimes he plays songs that I know. Other times he introduces me to new artists. Sometimes he plays a marathon of songs by one artist. Sometimes he turns up the volume and I know that his energy is good and he’s ready for the day. Other times the music is more mellow and I can tell he might be a bit anxious or slower to feel the motivation that day for school.

When we get to the school he unplugs his phone and I’m left to fend for myself music-wise. My playlist is a hand-me-down of what’s been uploaded by other family members. Left on my own to choose my music mood, it’s quite the let-down. Somehow my playlists don’t have the same effect on me as the ones we share in the car together. For now, I’ll relish those. For the future, he. might just have to make me a “Max and Mom” playlist.

I read an article recently from an author who must be about my age. She wrote that lockers in Middle School and High Schools are a thing of the past. Rendered unnecessary, new schools in fact, are being built without them! (see article here: https://grownandflown.com/high-school-lockers-no-more/)

I’ve seen it with my own eyes as my children have refused to bring a jacket to school because there is no place to put it (they have lockers, just don’t use them). I’ve seen it as my children thought about having A day and B day backpacks to carry just the books they needed for those days. My son does have a locker assigned to him. I can see it in his student account, but he doesn’t use it. The reason? They don’t have time to go to the their locker in between classes.

But for me, just as the author wrote, my HS locker was a place of social gathering, celebrations and most of all, the keeper of passed notes. Remember those notes folded into intricate triangular shapes and passed quietly to one another as we passed in the hall? The locker held them. Read and tossed in. Like a vault of teenage secrets.

I remember decorating my friends’ lockers for their birthdays. Or for good luck at an upcoming tournament.

I remember the stress of remembering the locker combination and practicing on my combination lock so that I’d be sure I could do it quickly. To this day, my HS locker is still part of my stress dreams.

What if kids DID have time to go to their lockers… would they use them? Why did we see them as necessary parts of our HS routine and today’s students see them as unnecessary? What would need to change for them to be seen as valuable components of the HS experience again?

Another mass shooting at a school yesterday. This time in Nashville. 3 students and 3 staff members killed. Each time this happens we ask ourselves, when will this stop? This is a poem I wrote after Uvalde (less than 1 year ago).

Leaders. Educators. Parents. We are not okay. #uvalde

Shattered, By Jodi Mahoney

(a poem written after another horrific mass shooting at an elementary school- May 24, 2022

Educators are shattered

Parents are shattered

Humans are shattered

Over another senseless loss

Of 21 innocent souls

Who only wanted to learn and teach

In the safest place they knew

A school.

We are scared.

We have been scared.

We have been tested

By a global pandemic that has

Shaken us to our core…

But now

We are scarred.

We have been scarred before

By other tragedies.

But they keep on happening.

They keep on coming.

And it gets harder

To say

That we are safe.

It gets harder to pretend

That we are ok.

It feels inauthentic to say

“You’ll be ok.”

And yet

Tomorrow will come

And the students we teach

Will look to us

To be ok.

They will look to us

To say, “it’s ok.”

Their parents will expect us

To keep them safe and protect them.

We want to.

Oh, do we want to.

But we are also

Not okay.

In the infancy of spring

with trees caught between

bareness and bloom

the night sky sparkles

with a crescent moon

and stunning constellations

that can be noticed

even by this amateur viewer

Big Dipper

Orion’s Belt

Little Dipper

Twinkle, twinkle

little star.

How I notice

how beautiful

you are.

If you knew me, you’d agree.

It’s a miracle. An orchid miracle.

I do not have a green thumb. In fact, I have a brown thumb for keeping plants alive. The ones that are alive in my house currently are alive despite the fact that they live in my house. They thrive in spite of me.

In October I was gifted an orchid. I’ve been gifted these previously and while they are beautiful, I’ve often discarded them after they lost their blooms, not knowing how to take care of them (also, a bare orchid plant isn’t very pretty). But this time, I held onto it. I put it out sight and gave it an ice cube or small drink of water every so often.

I looked at it the other day. In its forgotten place on the cabinet. And lo and behold… buds are starting to form.

It’s an orchid miracle.

Maybe the lesson learned here is that less attention is more!

You aren’t supposed to be a distracted driver. You are supposed to pay attention to the road. I did. I was. I tried.

But at the stoplight

I was mesmirized

by the graceful fingers

floating outside of the car window

conducting the music

playing in their car

and

listening to the music

in my car

seeing if the measures

somehow miraculously

matched up.

This was no novice

conductor.

This was someone

who clearly

understood the

music

on a different level

and drew me in

just by

the masterful

conducting

outside of the car

window.

Some people have numbers that are special or lucky to them. I don’t really have one. My brother did. 10:22. His birthday, October 22. He loved his birthday. He made sure we all knew that he loved his birthday. And in fact, when it wasn’t his birthday, and the clock turned 10:22, he’d notice and he’d make us notice.

It’s funny the things that make you remember a loved one after they pass. Recently, a college friend of my brother’s reached out to share a story that made him remember my brother. It had to do with getting distracted during a morning routine and learning about a sports personality that had just passed. My brother also loved sports, so this was something that he also shared with his friends. The college friend reminisced that he would have loved to have called my brother to talk about the passing of this sports personality (mind you, they had been out of touch for quite some time). And after realizing that he had been letting the morning getting away from him, looked at the clock and realized it read 10:22. Of course. And there it was. My brother right there somehow in that moment.

Zing! Down the line. Winner.

Bam! At the net, volley. Winner.

Pow! Overhead. Winner.

It was all going so well. I had decided to pick up an extra class this week. Playing with a pro and others that you aren’t comfortable with is always a little intimidating. However, after the first few warm-up shots, I was in my zone. The warm-ups and games felt comfortable and familiar. I had been worried that I wouldn’t be the same level as this class, but I fit in just fine. In fact, it was better than fine. I was hitting lots of good shots.

And then, an hour and 15 minutes into the one hour 30 minute class…

POP! I felt it in my left calf. I really wasn’t doing anything at the time. I think just moving to the next rotation spot on the court.

Sidelined.

Sitting with my leg propped, ice tucked into my leggings, watching the rest of the game play out without me.

And now, I’m hoping and praying that it’s nothing that a little rest can’t fix. And when I say, “a little,” I mean like a few days until Sunday when I have my next tennis class. But, to the doctor I go today and really hoping he says that I’m not sidelined for 6 weeks. I’ve got zings, bams and pows waiting for me!

Ok. Don’t judge. I have a guilty pleasure. It’s Tater Tots from Sonic. Yup, there’s nothing more unhealthy and yet satisfying as an after-work snack of hot Tater Tots and a Diet Coke. There’s just something about a fountain drink from Sonic that is just right!

Often I don’t have time for lunch. Well, I do have time to eat while I work, but since I am THE WORST at planning ahead and packing my lunch, I usually only snack. That leaves me ravenous by the end of the day.

My commute takes me right past a Sonic. Super easy to drive up and order, pick up at the window and continue on my commute. The hot tots sit on the seat next to me, Diet Coke in the cup holder. As I drive home (only 10 minutes), I can reach into the brown Sonic bag and eat the hot tots one by one. I usually finish them by the time I hit the one-way bridge (about 5 minutes into the commute). And then, I’m usually left searching the bottom of the bag for one more tot. And usually, there it is…a BONUS TOT!

And you know what? For sure, that bonus tot is the one that tastes the best!