Blood Brothers

I fell off my bike Friday on the way to school. Now there is about ½ pound of Tim-flesh smeared all over the intersection of Exchange Parkway and Allen Heights drive. It was a good fall, as falls go – nothing broken, I just got peeled back a little.

I quit dripping blood before school started, but there was no hiding the beautiful, red, new wounds on my arm, hand, and knuckles from my students, (Fortunately they can’t see the huge raspberry on my right butt cheek!) so I had to recount the incident for each new class.

Of course, every young rider has a bike wreck story to tell, all of them much better than mine. By the time I heard all the tales of stitches, broken bones, scraped up body parts, and crashing through fences it was hard to get back to the lesson.

My principal thought it was hilarious, (I agree) Nurse Fry made me promise to slow down, and the staff offered to take up a collection for training wheels.

I’m just looking forward to the night I can sleep on my side again.

All in a Day

The thing about running to school early is that you get to see the sky turn that deep shade of blue which has no name. I love that star-speckled blend of earth and space that washes eternal perspective over my narrow little fretting mind.

The thing about having an all out hoot with 6 years olds singing songs about mashed potatoes and bees with sunburned knees, is you might forget you are 44 years older.

The thing about working a consistent, firm, and unbending discipline plan with Sammy for 5 weeks is that he might decide to become a perfectly behaved music student during class on the 6^th week.

The thing about running the long way home from school after the sun sets is that you might meet a coyote by the woods, and wonder if he and his buddies have eaten yet today.

The thing about harvesting you supper by flashlight in the back yard is it tastes so good right out of the pan.

The thing is, I feel undeservedly favored.

Tim’s bright idea: create an original musical with the entire 4^th grade class.

Today’s reality: Today I met with the group of 4^th graders who’s job it is to create the characters for our musical. The setting is old Texas, during the cowboy times.

Me: Ok, let’s create a character who could be our hero. What are some possible character traits?

Students: Annoying.
Stalker
Wears a RREALLY BIG gun
Takes credit for other people’s ideas
Carries a huge silver shield
Kicks butt

Me: OK, now, let me redirect our focus. Remember, we’re trying to create our hero. Let’s try to think of a real life person, someone we admire and look up to. Not a character from a movie we’ve seen, but a real live person. Someone the audience would be attracted to. Someone who would be an example of the kind of person we would like to be.

Students: Likes dairy products
Shy
Takes credit for other people’s ideas
Puts hexes on people

Me: You know someone who puts hexes on people?

Student: Uhhhhhhh.

Me: And this is your Hero????

Student: Uhhhhhhh.

Students: Mumbles
Reserved
Lonely
Wears a wolf skin hat

Me: You know someone who wears a wolf skin hat?

Student: Uhhhhhhhh.

Me Remember, we are trying to think of personality traits for our hero. Try to think of a real human that you like and look up to. Describe that person.

Students: Mean
Is an alien
Spits when he talks
Has big boots with spikes
Has a mask and a big knife

Me: (thinking) At what point today did I enter this alternate universe?
What happened to the bright little people I met in the classroom?
I’m speaking English, what language are they hearing?

Me: (talking) OK, let’s try another character……

I’m not kidding, these are actual responses that came from the mouths of actual 4^th graders who are responsible for creating the characters for our musical! I did, however, leave out the sparse smattering of insightful and clever ideas that popped out of the mouths of a few students. These young minds will provide some excellent material for our next group to work with, if we can sort through all the completely off the wall garble that predominates the conversation!

If I were King

Concerning my new job:

If I were king I would forbid shoelaces on any feet younger than 2^nd grade.

Every day brings triumph and defeat, success and failure, progress and regression. Sometimes I have enough band-width to step back for a minute and just watch my students. There is no finer sight than the shining eyes of a young person making music.

These Boots are made for Drivin'

I ran home from school this evening as the sun set, my mind ricocheting between past and future: dreams, plans, and assorted imaginings for this year; and memories of friends, colleagues, and students from years past.

I ran under the wide Texas sky, on top of concrete and Bermuda grass, next to countless hunks of metal and gasoline, the only human visible among many thousands of fellow commuters, over the wide, flowing city-river we call Highway 75, past “Bossy Boots Drive,” and I said to myself, “Toto, I don’t think we are in Kansas (or Iowa) anymore.”

Typical tripe and turbid transcriptions

Tim tells tall Texas tales to terrific teachers, totally tracing true transmissions transpiring in Tim’s timeline, tossing tiny, titillating, tidbits tumbling toward those teachers trying to tolerate his typical tripe and turbid transcriptions.

I wrote a letter to my Iowa friends tonight. It started with the “t” stuff above. I’ll try to actually send it tomorrow.

I have some photos of school up, at http://picasaweb.google.com/tim.fuchtman.

My First Week Of School

The first week of school included:

Tying dozens of little shoes

Tears

Learning and forgetting and relearning and reforgetting 750 names

Random hugs at random moments

Remembering never to ask a question to a class of kindergarteners

Texas flora on my desk (We learned the song, “Deep in the Heart of Texas.” Part of the lyric is “The sage in bloom is like perfume.” They didn’t know what sage is, so I bought a sage bush.

Commuting to school ON MY BIKE!!!! WWWWOOOOOOO HHHHOOOOOOO!

Lots of bright, little, shining eyes hearing a banjo played live for the first time (and also trombone, sitar, Irish drum, Mizmar, and others.)

The sound of children singing – which is perhaps the most beautiful sound on the planet

I couldn’t possibly count the times I thought of my former colleagues this week. I’m still trying to attain the example they set for me. And, many, many times I thought of Tim Huisman.

So there it is, I’m back in school and had a great week.