The KMWP Summer Institute has taught me the true value of collaboration in the teaching profession.  My colleagues have amazing ideas that I can adapt to benefit the needs of my students through enriched learning experiences and relationship-building and myself through simplification and streamlining of my teaching practices.  Particularly effective with proving collaboration’s value were our welcoming, start-the-day-off-right morning dramas, the truly helpful and inspiring writing groups, and the brilliant teacher demonstrations.  Each of these has given me tools to take back to my classroom.

Highlight Moment

One moment from the Institute that I will never forget is my first moments with my writing group.  I was beyond nervous about sharing my writing, and I had had little success with writing groups in my class and did not fully buy in to them anyway.  I sat down with the two lovely ladies with whom I was blessedly partnered and it was like we had been sharing and helping each other for years.  I left that day giddy and pumped about writing, about using writing groups, and about collaborative writing in general.  In fact, it inspired my teacher demonstration, which I came to do on collaborative narrative and academic writing.

Good Writing Skills

I am now a better writer, and I have also rediscovered my desire to write, which left me when I left college.  I had always understood on the surface the nature and purpose of writing for catharsis and of writing to reflect on my life and my teaching, but the Institute helped me internalize writing as a tool to build a better me, both professionally and personally. 

One skill that I’ve learned during my time here is a guided way to vary my sentence structure.  The ABC story technique forces the writer to be creative in how to phrase sentences; each new sentence has to start with the next letter in the alphabet, the first sentence beginning with ‘A’.  As someone who has trouble not beginning every sentence as subject-verb-etc, this proved a tool that I could transfer to other types of writing.  The best part was that it worked on my writing subconscious, and I was varying my sentence structure without realizing exactly how difficult that was, until I came to ‘X’, that is!  This is a technique I will practice with my students from now on instead of just writing the cryptic “Vary your sentence structure” on their essays; this way, they’ll know what in the world I’m talking about. 

Inquiry and Research

I have learned that the best place to start with research is to build from something for which one already has a passion, has seen some success or failure, or genuinely cares to learn about.  One must then develop a strong question that is understandable to himself and to others.  Defining terms and parameters for research and presentation ease the process, and creating an annotated bibliography helps to cement the purpose of giving due credit to authors for their work. I will take these concepts along with the story of my struggle with them back to my classroom to share with my students. 

Suggestions for Improvement

The variety of writing prompts we were given at the beginning of the Institute got my creative juices flowing; I would have loved more time for those and more of those to keep us writing about us and exploring who we are, then sharing that publicly.

I don’t know why I was so nervous, but I always get that way with colleagues or *gulp* superiors.  I’m not shy; it makes no sense for me to actually lose my breath.  I sometimes do that in front of kids if a lesson isn’t going right.  Weird manifestations of fear and anxiety like that are really annoying.   Thanks for sticking with me folks.

Will I actually use blogs for every student?  I have no idea.  We’re moving to A-B for 9th grade next year, which i have some practice with and find effective in most senses.  However, when sharing computer labs with the rest of the English dep’t on this schedule can be a thorn in the butt of everyone else.  I ran into that with my Freshman Focus classes at the end of the year last year.  We had online projects that took three days, but on alternating day schedule, I had to Debo six lab days.  This infuriated quite a few people, but what was I to do?

I used the lab a lot last year, and i want to do even more things with technologynext year, so I guess i’ll just have to anger people.  It’s for a good cause.

That said, my poolside chilling will be welcomed fully next Friday.  I hope we all stay in touch, though.  We’ve got a sort of fam going on here, full of really awesome, nutty people.  As much as I have lamented missing three weeks of my summer lazy days, I am grateful to have been a part of this, both personally and professionally. 

<3 to all.

I feel like the teacher demo is coming together finally.  It’s feeling more focused and coherent and a bit less convoluted.  That’s my struggle sometimes: I get super-excited about something new and inventive and I try to put it all together, but it ends up overly convoluted and confusing.  I believe in simplicity, expecially where students are concerned, but I sometimes have trouble achieving that simplicity, a concept is in fact more complicated than one would think.  That last sentence just proved my point.  How convoluted!  Anyway, things are becoming clearer, about which i am happy.

My new concern is the anthology, on a few levels. 

1) Theme.  Yikes. 

2) What piece should i include?  Any suggestions? 

I know whichever one will need lots of work, but i cannot seem to choose on my own.  I have one vote so far that i won’t share for fear of influencing anyone else who reads this.  Believe me, each vote counts.  A lot.  Thanks!

Lots to do this weekend.  Not everything has come together in my mind for the teacher demo, and I wish I had explained it better in order to get more than a few head nods as feedback today in group.  

Drama went well, about which I am very happy.  Renee and I had a hard time coming up with something to tail off of the great ones that have already been done.  I’m glad ours elicited so many laughs.

Apparently, I was Betty Davis in a past life.  That makes me happy. 

Character 2: Nico – overly-friendly, impoverished, just out of jail, handsome, late twenties

Angrily, Avery kicks her busted tire.  She does not know where she is, or really where she is going, and she is loath to ask the infuriatingly good-looking guy walking towards her for any help. Intelligent though she may be, it was never in her cards to learn how to change a tire, a fact that irks her to no end at the moment.   

“Hi, I’m Nico,” chirps the handsome Italian as he sends his hand toward hers in a common gesture that sets her off. 

“Don’t touch me,” she returns as vehemently as his was cheery.

“Sorry.  I always forget to wait for a lady to put her hand out first.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.” Nico thunks himself in the head, bringing her grudging attention to the dark loose curls that speak to how natural his good looks are. 

 He doesn’t even have to work for it, she thinks. I’ll bet he’s even handsome first thing in the morning…Cutting this extemporizing short, she denies the apology welling up in her throat and turns back towards her car. 

“I saw you here and thought you may need help,” Nico continues, not easily distracted from his friendliness, even when met with such venom. 

 “I don’t need any man’s help,” Avery snaps, forgetting her impulse to apologize as soon as the assumption of her feminine inabilities left his mouth.  “I can figure this out on my own.” 

“Okay then!” Nico walks, or skips, (she isn’t sure which) back over to the lunch table from which he’d come.  

Okay.  How hard can this be?  I do possess some mental faculty in my feeble female brain…  Avery’s thoughts boiling, she risks a glance his way.  Nico is watching her, a laugh barely hidden in his face.   Her fury rises and she stomps his way. 

“If it’s so easy, why don’t you just show me and I’ll sit here with what I can only assume is a hilarious sandwich considering that smirk on your face!”  

“Whoa, lady.  Maybe I deserve that, but you need to relax.”  

“You’re right.  I just don’t like men who assume women are helpless.”

“Aren’t you, I mean, right now at least?  If you like, I can just walk you through it.  Or do you not like compromise either?” 

“Okay, I deserved that.  I’m Avery, by the way.” 

“Lovely to meet you, Avery.” 

“Uh, thanks.  Let’s just get this over with.”

… 

“Thanks again for your help.  Where are we anyway?  I haven’t seen anything for miles except this little sandwich shop and a prison.” 

“I guess you picked a fine place to bust a tire.  Tell you what.  Since we’re on better terms, would you mind giving me a ride?  I’ve been walking a while and it’s a long way to anywhere but this sandwich shop.” 

“Walking?  Where from?” 

“Oh, here and there.  I’d rather not reveal all my secrets to some stranger.”  His eyes twinkle. 

“Well, where are you going?” 

“Nowhere in particular.  Just away.” 

“A planner, huh?  Yeah, me too.  Why not?”

… 

“So, where were you walking from?  Was there a village I didn’t notice?” 

“No.” 

“What’s with the secrecy?” 

“let’s just say I’m not quite ready to spill the beans.” 

“What kind of beans would those be?” 

“The kind they serve in jail.” 

“Dammit I should’ve known!” 

“Chill out, okay?  Just keep driving.  I don’t want to have to make any threats, but I’ll do what I have to.” 

“Wh…what were you in jail for?” 

“Murder.  Some chick with a flat.” 

“WHAT!!!” 

“C’mon, that’s just a little humor.  Anyway, it isn’t important why I was there.  What matters is that I’m out.  And they’ll never find me.” 

“You escaped???” 

“If I hadn’t, I’d be an old man before I got out.  I’d never again shake the hand of a pretty lady.  The way things are going these days, though, I still may not.  ‘Don’t touch me’” he mimics. 

 “God, I knew better.  I knew better!  What the hell is wrong with me?” 

Keep him talking.  The more he says the more I can tell the police later…if he lets me go… 

“So, uh, how long were you in there?” 

“Too long.  All my life.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Before I was in there, I had myself jailed in my head.  I didn’t hear me, ya know?  I never let myself in.” 

“I’m sorry.  I don’t really understand…”

 “I just…god, how can I explain it?  It’s like there’s a few of me, ya know?  All in my head.  All talking.  I used to not listen, but now I do.  They told me to how to get out.  They told me to dig and dig and dig until I saw the light.  So that’s what I did.  Then I came to get a sandwich, and that guy behind the counter said I had to have money.  How can I have any money? I asked him.  I’m starving. So they told me what to do, and I hd to do it.  It’s the first sandwich I’ve made myself in a long time.

Each day of the past year races through both villain and canine’s mind: the bloody sacrifices, the silenced screams, the surging power felt increasing in the canine’s extended paws even now.  Fraught with the death of so many innocents but reveling in its ever-increasing power, the canine knows his victim has no escape.  Grotesque claws rip pathetic human flesh.  Humanity has yet to create a viable opponent, and the canine revels in the thought of soon finding a new master on which to dote, pretending allegiance but playing him like a deck of cards, bending him to whatever will the canine can dream up.  In the meantime, destroying this compromised creature in vengeance will suffice as proof of his power. 

Jostling about in his agony, the man falls to his knees, barely exhaling his final words: “Dog, what have you done?” 

Kingston steadies himself against the river of regret he knows will flow instantly throughout his be-furred body.  Looking at the floor, he laments the recently-discovered knowledge that great power comes with great understanding of what it means to take a life, the one thing no amount of power can ever give back.  Mirrors in his head reflect the bloody scene, and memories of simpler times fill him with longing and disgust for what he has become, but only for a time.  Now, looking forward, he must use what has been given to him through the release of all this human blood from its bodily home to accomplish the task he has set forth for himself: finding a new master to replace the one he can only assume abandoned him in fear. 

On one end of the hall in which he stands, a lone picture remains unbroken on the wall.  Precariously pawing a path through the debris, loath to further damage any of his master’s belongings, Kingston studies the image a final time, knowing that pictures capture a small part of their subjects’ souls and hoping for a clue as to his master’s whereabouts.   Questions permeating the clearer parts of his enhanced mind, Kingston knows he cannot waste too much time on what will ultimately have to be filed away as a triviality.  

Retiring for the evening, Kingston pushes aside the misery flowing through his body and considers the type of master he may prefer this time.  Something in the corner catches his eye, and he stops dead.  There he is, Kingston’s master, slumped against a blood-spattered wall amongst the debris from the house.  Underestimating the rage that had filled his earlier, weak opponent, he would have never believed the man capable of such atrocity. 

Very carefully, Kingston

I wrote a fiction piece based on the 11 steps sentence I ended up with and through diong so discovered two things:

1. I love participles.

2. Concision may be an issue for me in my narrative writing.

Number 2 was reinforced via the dialogue practice, wherein it took some difficulty for me to let go of the narration portion and rely solely on the dialogue to tell the story.  I need to play with that piece more, too.

The first few days of the institute, I felt much more comfortable with my writing than I do now.  I posted everything, done or not, but I’m finding it more difficult to do so now.  Catharsis must be coming…the calm before the storm, I guess, brought on by all this deep exploration.  Or maybe I should just get over myself.