Reading Countess

This weekend, you could find me reclined in a supine position. Alternating between holding a book in my hand and a remote control, I was desperately trying to unwind and rejuvenate from the brutal nine months of school I had just literally closed the door on. Teaching is not for the faint of heart. The school year, although a wonderful success, truly wore me out. I always forget how physically, emotionally and intellectually exhausting 180 school days can be until I sit down at the end of the school year.

Complaining to my husband about how bone-drenchingly tired I was, my complaints fell on deaf ears. “I don’t get ten weeks off each summer,” he grumbled to me. He went on to add that teaching has a definite beginning and ending. The start and stop dates are penciled in on a calendar.

His thoughts stopped me in my tracks. And truthfully, I have to say that I vehemently disagree. Yes, I am on summer “break.” But this summer, I am helping to plan a district reading/writing workshop with colleagues for a week, helping to facilitate said workshop for another week, and attending a literacy workshop for another week. In addition to these staff development opportunities, I also have a TBR pile a mile high to weed through. Between new books I wish to book talk next year, professional books I want to add to my teaching repertoire, and adult books I simply never have time to read during the school year since I only read MG/YA books, I have plenty of material to sift through. Keeping this blog current, switching the site from my district sponsored edublog site to my own domain, and expanding the book drive we began two years ago will also tick away hours. Lastly, I am adding a wiki to our school’s writing committee. This should demand a great deal of my time, since I have never navigated this particular source of technology! No, this summer I am not “off.”

I will be physically busy this summer preparing myself for the coming school year. But more importantly, I will be mentally busy preparing myself. You see, teaching affords us a unique opportunity to sit and reflect. What worked well? What do I hope to tweak, to improve, to add to my teaching regimen to add value to my classes? How might classroom organization or arrangement be better? These are the questions I am currently mulling over. I keep a notebook close by to document any thoughts before they are forever lost in the sieve that is my mind.

Teaching is an ever-changing profession. In order to remain current and successful, teachers must seize precious ”down time” in order to renew, refresh and rejuvenate. Ironically, summertime is my most productive time for me to grow professionally. I may have closed the door on my classroom for three months, but my mind is wide open.

It has been 24 hours since I closed the door to my classroom for the summer. I am now home, with the exception of workshops and a few trips scheduled, for the duration of summer. It will not be until the end of August when I hear again the excited voices of 75 pre-pubescent tweenagers whisper their favorite titles to me. I am officially on summer vacation.

The ten weeks lie ahead of me open and full of promise. Although I have much to do in a relatively short amount of time, I find myself lounging with a stack of books by my side on this first weekend of official freedom. I am mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. I have forgotten how much teaching takes out of one’s soul.

My home is a virtual disaster area. The dirty dishes and clothes seep out of every crevice, repairs and updates to our home seem to mock me as I pass by them. Yet I am turning a blind eye to them all. Still dressed in pajamas, I am decompressing from nine long months with my trusty stack of books. My three boys, usually eager to leave the house for one excursion or another, have not asked when/where we are going. They, too, are hungry for some much needed down time.

It seemed rather fortuitous when a fellow blogger, Mother Reader, announced her Fifth Annual 48 Hour Book Challenge a few weeks ago. I quickly signed up, knowing I would be eager for some quiet time surrounded by books. Below are the books I have read thus far since yesterday (clicking on the title will bring you to my Goodreads pages):

Sparrow Girl by Sara Pennypacker

Pirates by David L. Harrison

14 Cows For America by Carmen Agra Deedy

Countdown by Deborah Wiles

Now, I will not read/blog for 48 hours straight. This weekend I am spending it rejuvenating and recharging myself. But I will read and blog the next two days, thoroughly enjoying the time spent hopping off the virtual gerbil’s wheel I find myself on most days. Stepping over dirty clothes the boys carelessly have strewn, I’ll be walking around my home with a book in one hand and a cold beverage in another. The repairs and updates will have to wait. This weekend, I read.

More books read:

The World According to Dog: Poems and Teen Voices by Joyce Sidman

Read a Rhyme, Write a Rhyme by Jack Prelutsky

The Sweetheart of Prosper County by Jill S. Alexander

Total hours read: 8.5 hours

Today I am sitting in a quiet, undecorated classroom staring at the last vestiges of the fruits of my labor for the last nine months. The unfettered environment has a way of clearing my mind and reminding me what is truly important. As I stare at the bare walls and the boxes stacked on top of each other, my mind drifts back to the first day of school when 94 young readers first entered our classroom community. Unsure of not only me, but of themselves and their abilities as a reader, our relationship began slowly. Like a moth to a flame, my readers found themselves drawn to the joys of reading, the friendships that grew out of fervently discussing great literature, and the unmistakable feeling of knowing what it feels like to “be in the zone.”

In a few moments, the bell will ring and the din that only the last day of school can bring will ensue in our classroom. “Our” classroom, so visibly ready for the summer months, holds me safely inside, desperately clinging to the school year. I’m like a child with a prized toy, unwilling (or is that unable?) to let go. We’ve come so far. We have so much further to go still. I want to continue the trek with my students, but know that I have to release them so that they can journey further.

I was their teacher. I am now their encourager. I will always be their supporter.

And they will be engraved on my heart forever.

*from my youngest son's preschool graduation

   “Women need real moments of solitude and self-reflection to balance out how much of ourselves we give away.” Barbara De Angelis

Yesterday was the last full day to have all four of my classes. In addition to finishing our read aloud, The Wild Things by Clay Carmichael (to thunderous applause at the book’s conclusion, no less), we also talked about our reading plans for the summer and the kids completed a short evaluation of me as a reading teacher.

This was the first year I have done a student-driven evaluation. My colleagues thought I was completely off my rocker asking my students to complete an evaulation of my duties two and a half days from the end of school.  Borrowed from one of the science gurus on my team and tweaked to fit my content area, I passed the two-sided form out with a little bit of trepidation, now, too.  What would they say? Would their comments be brutally honest (and therefore blisteringly hurtful?) I needn’t have worried. The answers, while somewhat surprising, shed a great deal of light into their interpretations of the year and will certainly help guide my future work with my next classes.The form I used in class is detailed below.

I was surprised by what the kids, on average, raved about. I was also saddened by a few revelations. First, my students all generally loved book talking books. The kids went on and on about how this helped them select their next reads. They also spoke highly about the use of technology in our classes (specifically animoto, kidblog, and goodreads). I have a funny saying, to encourage open discourse about literature without fear of being ridiculed. I often say, “opinions are like belly buttons, everyone has one.” This silly phrase was quoted on a large portion of the papers. Another catch-phrase I use throughout the year, applicable to not only books but to people, is “don’t judge a book by its cover.” The kids seemed to understand the double meaning and it really hit home. Poetry, sifting and lifting the main idea and the author’s so-what (or theme) of a book were also listed as memorable. Lastly, read alouds were touted as being beneficial for learning to comprehend their own books as well as learning that reading is enjoyable. Their positive recollections of reading reinforced my teaching choices and beliefs, and confirmed my thoughts that reading responses done through blogging  and other innovative modes of technology is the way to go next year. 

 I have always prided myself on being inclusive, and on building a warm and caring learning environment. Our positive classroom community is my number one priority, for without it, we would be spinning our wheels. My administration has always spoken glowingly about the feeling of warmth they get when they enter our class. Because I place so much importance on inclusion and the strong community within our classroom, I was deeply saddened to see that a few of my students mentioned that they did not like me teasing them.

We tease in my family. It’s our thing. I like to say that I, and now my own sons, grew up with a steady dose of it. Growing up the child of an Army officer meant that to show affection for someone, you tease. You don’t hug. You don’t even give positive words of affirmation. Through playful words, I always knew that I was loved. I was sure of my parent’s approval only when I was being teased.

I now know, a day late and a dollar short, that a few of my kids didn’t enjoy my playful teasing. In my defense, I never teased in an effort to humiliate or destroy a student’s self esteem. In fact, a large portion of my students mentioned glowingly how they loved being teased, knowing that it was all fun. Now, two days before the end of school, I am left feeling like I failed my kids in some way. As sensitive as I am, I failed to see this fundamental disconnect with a few of them.

 Do I regret that my kids evaluated me? No. Am I dishearted about one of the results? Yes. Will the evaluation help form my decisions next year? Absolutely.

 Teacher Evaluation -

1. Rate your interest in reading when you came to 5^th grade

1       2      3      4      5      6      7      8      9      10 (highest)

1. Rate your interest in reading now

1       2      3      4      5      6      7      8      9      10 (highest)

1. Circle your favorite (3) activities in reading this year?

*read aloud   *blogging on the computer  *independent reading      

*poetry                        *big 6  project  *book club    *biography project    *book talk          *thinkquest *animoto

1. Was there anything we did in reading that you really hated or dreaded doing?

1. How prepared do you feel for Junior High Reading?

1       2      3      4      5      6      7      8      9      10

1. 6.   Do you think you might join the after school book club at (nearby JH?)  YES   NO

1. What is one thing you learned in my class, that you think you will always remember? ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

1. To help me become a better teacher, please make an “x” in the appropriate column (always, sometimes, never)

Additional Comments:

“It is what you read when you don’t have to that determines what you will be when you can’t help it.”
— Oscar Wilde

Donalyn Miller, a wonderful teacher, author, and advocate for student reading, posted her new blog post in Teacher Magazine this weekend. In it, she warns about student “summer slump,” and how kids can avoid the pitfall of reversing their ending reading level by simply reading four to five books over the long summer months. Donalyn also encouraged her readers to participate in her challenge of reading a book a day over the summer.

I plan on challenging myself, because reading to me is like breathing. I, like Donalyn, eagerly anticipate the slow months of summer because I have long days unencumbered. The summer months afford me huge windows of time to gobble up books without worry that I am neglecting important duties. But I wonder about my own students. Will they continue the good reading habits they have set in place this year when no one is checking on them? Have they become ingrained in them and are they now second-nature? Or will they fall back to their old habits, never to pick up a book until someone “tells them to” come August 23rd?

I pray that my kids will continue their own independent reading long after reader’s notebooks and status of the class have ceased. After all, they are readers, aren’t they?

Today is Memorial Day, a day we pause and remember all that American veterans have given our country both in blood, sweat and tears. As the thirteenth generation American, and as a proud family member who can trace soldiers in her family for each of those generations, I stand tall on days like these. But the proud stance is relegated to more of a cower when I turn on the news or read the latest headlines in the newspapers or magazines. Is this the America my family fought so valiantly for?

Living in Houston, the energy capital of America, has afforded me a spectator’s seat to what is turning out to be the worst environmental disaster of our time. Specifically, BP, the company charged with the dire accident now damaging the coastlines where I live and my boys have played during the summer months, seems to have a somewhat cavalier approach to all the massive damage. In fact, many employee’s spouses work at my school and in my mind are not comprehending the culpability of the billion dollar conglomerate’s actions. One comment from a spouse of a BP employee/coworker to another spouse of a BP employee/coworker of mine has bounced around in my mind since she uttered it, “Well, I guess there goes our Christmas bonuses.” Really? While the plants and animals around the spill slowly wither and die, this is what is on their mind? Welcome to America. We have become a nation of greed.

In light of where America is choosing to put its money currently, and in light of where the money is NOT being put, I thought I would copy Libba Bray’s post into my own today. Libba Bray, author of  the award winning book Going Bovine, is a remarkable writer and fellow Texan. She puts into words so eloquently what I am thinking. Regardless of what side of the fence you are on, surely her words will give you pause to think about the current issues in the news. Where we choose to put our money and what we value over other things in life says so much about who we are as a people. Who will we be defined as in a generation’s time? And will our version of America still be in tact?

*photos from the Reading Countess’ family portraits

This is going to be a long post. It is also going to have a call to action. So please keep reading. And if you can’t keep reading then start at Second Piece of Business.

I know I have been remiss in my blogging lately. It has been like some writing zombie video game—“Night of the Living Deadlines”—in which I put down one only to have another shamble in to take its place while my pals, “Shaun of the Dead” styles—shout out “Oy! 2:00! Short story! Short story!” “Look to your left—novel! Very late!” “Coming up from under—BEA speech! Pull the trigger now, now, now!”

Yeah. Very relaxing. On the plus side, there’s a whole lot of writing going on and that makes me happy. On the down side, there’s not a whole lot of sleeping or socializing going down. In fact, none. Also, I wouldn’t stand too close to me. Whooo-eeee.

There’s much I want to discuss with all of you, and some of that will be coming in subsequent blogs. (Bear with me—this novel is due ASAP. Short story revision also due ASAP. There’s also the matter of that Printz speech and I don’t want to have to rely on my rusty, third-grade puppetry skills and my uncanny ability to make fart noises with my hands. Though I hear this is what makes Philip Roth such a dynamic party guest.*) A lot of what I’d love to discuss comes from the prickly things poking up through the cracks of this new novel, which has been, yes, difficult, as all novels are, but also a blast to write. Really, I don’t know what to make of those pirates. They’re like a glamrock Gilbert & Sullivan operetta gone wrong. And Miss Texas…sigh. Was there ever any doubt she’d be an oddball?

This book has also raised many questions for me, which is one of the joys/frustrations/joys of writing a book. It stops you. Makes you think. Makes you question your assumptions. It’s like that line from my all-time favorite song: “And you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?” (Bonus points if you know the song, though you could Google that line in two seconds for the answer.)

I also had the pleasure of attending BEA this past week, getting to be on a panel moderated by the lovely Barbara Genco of NYPL and featuring the awesome & funny & smart stylings of Ms. Lizzie Skurnick (rockin’ columnist of Jezebel’s Shelf Lines column and of the book, SHELF DISCOVERIES: The Teen Books We Never Stopped Reading), Ms. Jennifer Bailey Hunt (she who edited Sherman Alexie’s THE ABSOLUTELY TRUE DIARY OF A PART-TIME INDIAN among others) and Ellen Loughran, children’s librarian extraordinaire and professor at Pratt (who won points for saying right up front that she was a New Yorker and so would talk fast!)

After, I got to spend time with some truly amazing people: independent booksellers where I received an IndieBound Indies’ Choice Honor Award for Going Bovine and for Most Engaging Author. (!) Totally makes up for my awkward social misfit adolescence. Oh wait, I’m still an awkward social misfit. But hey, I have some coolio awards! It’s no secret that I love independent bookstores. I worked in one—Little Professor Bookstore near the UNT campus in Denton, TX—while in high school, and I loved having access to ALL THOSE BOOKS (swoon). It was where I discovered some of my favorites. (It also gave me a chance to read the soon-to-be-pulped issues of Italian Vogue, not going to lie.) The thing about independent bookstores and libraries are that they foster a sense of community, they are an investment in people. More on that in a moment.

First, one piece of business:
Thursday, June 3rd 6:00 PM Books of Wonder
Book talk/signing with Libba Bray and Karen Healey, GUARDIAN OF THE DEAD
The wonderful Karen Healey will be visiting us from New Zealand to talk about her first novel, GUARDIAN OF THE DEAD. I loved this book. It is creepy and fascinating and sexy and disturbing. Since we are pals, she asked if I would hang with her for the event. So come on down if you are in the area. You will definitely want to read Karen’s book and meet her (she is scary smart). Plus, she has a fantastic accent.

Second piece of business:
Our libraries are in trouble. Budget cuts are decimating staff and services. This is a crime on so many levels. It especially galls me to see this happening as I watch my beloved Gulf of Mexico, where I spent my childhood playing in the waves of South Padre Island and my college years visiting places along the Louisiana/Mississippi coast, being completely ruined by British Petroleum. I do not have sufficient words for my rage and despair at this, at their utter disregard for the environment and for the people who live and work there. Every day, there is some new bit of corrupt, immoral finagling and responsibility shirking and complete idiocy on BP’s part that makes my blood pressure soar.

How does this relate to libraries and independent booksellers, you ask? The deregulation of Big Oil has allowed this to happen. Profits before people. Meanwhile, the little guys, the folks who can say to you, “I know a book that will appeal to your Goth-musical-loving-volleyball-playing-opera-listening teen” (indie booksellers) have a rough go of it to make ends meet. And now, libraries, the temples that provide services to children learning to read, that serve the underserved, that provide free computer access to single parents and laid-off workers trying to stay afloat and get ahead, that are open and welcoming to college students who need to study, that provide free and open access to information to ALL HUMAN BEINGS are in dire, dire straits. Libraries face unprecedented cuts in funding and staff, and many libraries are being closed due to these cuts. Right, because we need to spend massive funds to clean up some Darth Vadar-like corporation’s mess in the Gulf rather than spend money on keeping our libraries open.

I don’t think I can say it any more eloquently than my pal, Jo Knowles, did in this blog: http://jbknowles.livejournal.com/369799.html

When I was a small child, my parents supported Cesar Chavez’s grape boycott. They did this in support of the United Farm Workers who were asking for decent wages and living conditions. Later, they also boycotted Nestle because of their baby milk campaign. http://www.breastfeeding.com/advocacy/advocacy_boycott.html
At the time, I just wanted some chocolate chips and grapes. I didn’t understand what this was all about. I asked my parents who explained and then said this, “Sometimes you do something because it is the right thing to do.”

Sometimes you do something because it is the right thing to do.

Few things feel more right to me than supporting our libraries, especially in their time of crisis. We are as strong as our libraries. Free and open libraries are the backbone of civilization. And we’re going to have to fight, I mean really fight, to save them. Because I’m telling you—if they do this, if they shut down libraries, they will find a reason not to open them again. They will say, “Look, we’ve gotten along okay without these services.” But they will be wrong. So we’re going to have to say, “No. You cannot take away my library.”

So. What can you do?

1. You can contact your elected officials and let them know that cutting library budgets and closing libraries is not okay. The New York Library Association (NYLA) offers plenty of links for making a difference in your community: http://www.nyla.org/index.php?page_id=925
2. If you live in the New York City area, you can be part of the We Will Not Be Shushed Read-In on the steps of the Brooklyn Public Library, 10 Army Plaza, on June 12 & 13. 24 hours of advocacy. Yes, I will be there. I’ll even bring Swedish Fish. And a book, of course. I hope you can join all of us.
3. Organize! Be creative! Host a Banned Books bake sale with Holden Caulfield cookies and To Kill A Mockingbird brownies. Stage a Libraries Kick Ass action hero play in front of your local library and sign people up to support the library. Write your elected officials. Post a video of Why Libraries Matter to YouTube. We’ve seen how things go viral. If the teens of this country got together to protest library closings—hosted read-ins across the nation—and it went viral? Well, I think that might be pretty powerful. And it’s better than doing nothing. Which brings me to point #4.
4. Believe in the power of good. It would be easy to see this corruption in the world and opt to resign. “Forget it, man, why bother?” Believe me, there are times in which I feel like I’m going to become like that artist character played by Max Von Sydow in “Hannah and Her Sisters” and live alone in a basement, making art, and grumbling about the state of the world. But we have to live in the world, and we have a choice. (That’s both the good and the bad news. ☺ ) I’m reminded of a parable I always sort of liked, if for no other reason than it humbled me and reminded me to keep my grumbly, snarky, eye-rolling self in check. I may not get it exactly right, but it goes something like this: A man dies and stands before God. He is angry and cynical. He says, “God, our people prayed for help. They’re suffering. Why didn’t you send help?” And God answers, “But I did. I sent you.” One doesn’t have to read this in a religious sense (though that’s fine, too). The point is the same: We have agency. We can help. We can be a force for good. We can stand-up and be accountable, be part of the process, because lord knows, accountability is in short supply these days. (Yes, I’m talking to you, BP.)

Libraries are a force for good. They wear capes. They fight evil. They don’t get upset when you don’t send them a card on their birthdays. (Though they will charge you if you’re late returning a book.) They serve communities. The town without a library is a town without a soul. The library card is a passport to wonders and miracles, glimpses into other lives, religions, experiences, the hopes and dreams and strivings of ALL human beings, and it is this passport that opens our eyes and hearts to the world beyond our front doors, that is one of our best hopes against tyranny, xenophobia, hopelessness, despair, anarchy, and ignorance. Libraries are the torch of the world, illuminating the path when it feels too dark to see. We mustn’t allow that torch to be extinguished.

I’m going back to writing now. But please, please, please do something to support your local library. Then come back and tell me about it. I’ll happily post your efforts.

And if you’re in the Brooklyn area, please join me and many others at the Read-In on June 12 & 13.

<3 Libba

• Mood: determined
• Music:The Lengths/The Black Keys

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Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

reasonland wrote:
May. 31st, 2010 02:34 pm (UTC)

As both a dedicated fan and librarian-in-training, I thank you for this awesome post. Love you Libba!

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Eli the Good by Silas House

Silas House is now one of only a select few authors whom I want to read ALL of his books. After finishing his first foray into YA lit, I am sold. A fellow Southerner, House captures perfectly what it is to grow up in the South in the 70′s as a child of a Vietnam vet. I should know, I was a child just like his main character, Eli.

Eli is a bright, observant, and sensitive boy surrounded by women the summer of 1976.  His older sister (six years his senior) is close to him, but Josie’s sixteen years prove difficult to maneuver around his mother. His mom, the town’s beloved science teacher, adores his father. While that is admirable, Eli has always felt on the outskirts and never fully felt his mother’s love. She holds a secret in the family that once revealed to Josie, threatens to destroy their relationship. Eli’s aunt comes back for the summer, suffering from cancer. He worries about her health and frets over her tumultuous relationship with his dad. Being a war demonstrator has not won her brownie points with his Vietnam War veteran father. Lastly, his best friend Edie is living in turmoil since her mom’s abrupt departure.

However, it is Eli’s father whose very real struggle with the past threatens to tear his family apart. Suffering from what we now term “post-traumatic syndrome,” his moods are volatile and confusing to young Eli. He can change at the drop of a hat: kind, loving, quiet, violent, angry…Eli quietly watches as the memories of the war come flooding back to him at indiscriminate moments. Thankfully, his mom is a stalwart supporter of his father, but for how long?
House has managed to throw strong characters with heartbreaking histories together, and his readers are allowed to breathlessly watch as they struggle to navigate their stormy paths, all the while crashing into each other along the way. I found myself weeping at the conclusion of the book, and then searching for all the other works by Silas House to add to my list to read. He has an indescribable way of writing that allows a sneak peek into the minds of each and every unique character. The music, clothing, and slower way of life are perfectly captured frame after frame. For this reason, I would recommend Eli the Good to be used as a mentor text in the reading/writing middle grade or young adult classroom.

As the bright, observant, and sensitive child of a Vietnam vet who grew up in the 1970′s, I understood too well Eli’s emotions. Remembering my own father’s distance when he returned from the war, I snuck peeks at his pictures while he was in Vietnam, too. The distance in my dad’s eyes and the almost savage way he stared blankly at the camera still haunts me today. I remember him telling me over and over again about when he returned after the war. Newly arrived, his hair was shorn short and was easily seen as a soldier. Because of it, he was spit on just like Eli’s dad. I, like Eli, saw my father’s frightened reaction to loud noises when we heard cannons firing at a historic site. When I was only 12, seeing him literally hit the ground in terror solidified the longterm effects of a brutal war on a person’s soul for me.

The war was always an invisible guest in my home as a child and it taught me invaluable lessons I still reflect upon now as an adult. Eli the Good spoke to me directly. I know my students, and even my own son, now 12, would greatly benefit from hearing this amazing tale. War: it ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Favorite passages:

the first paragraph: That was the summer of the bicentennial, when all these things happened: my sister, Josie, began to hate our country and slapped my mother’s face; my wild aunt, Nell, moved in with us, bringing along all five thousand or so of her records and a green record player that ran on batteries; my father started going back to Vietnam in his dreams, and I saw him cry; my mother did the Twist in front of the whole town and nearly lost us all. I was ten years old. and I did something unforgivable. (p. 3)

Since that night I have come to understand that sometimes the best families of all are those that we create ourselves, the people we choose to be with. (p. 144)

…But now I like to read and I could hear the trees when they spoke and I was different from them. I was weird and glad of it. Nowadays I actually thought about things, which is the hardest thing to begin doing. The strangest thing was that I liked being different. (p. 176)

My whole life I have been haunted not only by what my father went through in Vietnam, but also by what he went through when he returned. I feel the need to honor him, and the best way to do that is by standing up for what I believe in, just as he did. (p. 291)

*arc courtesy of a readerly friend

In April, my school coordinated a gently used book drive in conjunction with Earth Day called “Recycle Your Reads.” You can read the blog post about the drive here. The school the books were donated to have spent countless hours sorting and readying their “bookstore” in preparation for the kids to select their books for this summer.

This Tuesday, K-5 students will be surprised with their “shopping spree.” I can’t wait to see the kid’s faces when they are able to select their very own books to keep.

I already have plans in my head to expand this very worthwhile project next year to schools around me.

The selection available to the kids is staggering! I’m proud of the wide selection afforded to the children.

Teaching children who have so much to share their blessings is a lesson that cannot be learned too early. Being the recipient of a selfless act of kindness is also a blessing, and one that is not enjoyed enough in today’s harried world.

Look for another post about the big shopping day soon!

In the meantime, to quote from The Art of Possibility, an inspirational book I finished recently…”How have you contributed today?”

Blog to Watch Nomination 

Last night, I was sent a  Twitter message from one of my favorite literacy advocates on Twitter @TWRCtankcom:

I named yours as a “blog to watch” in my post today.

I immediately check on her blog (here) in order to read her full post. This is what she said about my blog,

Reading Countess: Random Thoughts by a Reading Teacher of Tweens by Tess Alfonsin. I have been following Tess for quite awhile on Twitter and her passion for teaching reading is refreshing. I am sure that parents are delighted to have their children in her class. I know I am delighted to have her as part of my Personal Learning Network. It amazes me how much she can accomplish.

I was thrilled to be mentioned in the same blog post with such notables as Jen Robinson and Donalyn Miller (among many other dedicated and talented literacy advocates).  In fact, Julie Peterson (the face behind TWRCtankcom) pointed me in the direction of many other blogs I didn’t know about. My PLN is continuing to grow! Thanks, Julie!

The following are the rules of this award:

• Copy and display the picture of the award given to you;
• Link back to the blog that nominated you;
• Nominate 10 different blogs yourself;
• Inform the people you nominated, so they can in turn, continue the chain and spread the word about other great blogs out there.

I am now charged with paying it forward. Picking ten blogs I admire for their content will be difficult!  That being said, and keeping in mind that I cannot repeat any of LeeAnn’s blogs, here are my nominations for “A Blog to Watch” in alphabetical order:

 1. A Year of Reading: Two Teachers Who Read. A lot.: a wealth of information on all things readerly, thanks to a partnership between two teachers.

2. Collecting Children’s Books: this may be the best-written children’s blog of all time. Librarian Peter Sieruta doesn’t just retell the history of children’s books-he brings it to life and makes it dance!

3. Fed Up With School Lunch: The School Lunch Project: an anonymous teacher stomachs her way through 2010 eating school lunches…every day.

4. Getting Boys To Read: having a vested interest in this subject, I love to read blogs focused on boys.

 5. Guys Lit Wire: guys read, too!

6. The Newbery Project: although I’m not a fan of ALL awarded Newbery books, the titles selected in the very near present are thankfully wonderful additions to this prestigious and historic list.

7. Professor Nana: Dr. Teri Lesesne is an all-time favorite of mine. I’ve been blessed to hear her speak three times. All three times, she has not disappointed. An authority on all things literary, her current book, Reading Ladders, is being discussed on the English ning in June.

8. Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast: I consider it fair to say that of all of the children’s literary blogs, this one is the most visually stunning (with consistently kicking content).  The product of Eisha Prather and Jules Danielson, they provide amazing interviews of up-and-coming authors and illustrators.

9. The Reading Zone: a sixth grade reading/writing teacher, Sarah is a master reviewer. Her deftly crafted book reviews leave me gasping for air as I scurry away to scribble the numerous arcs she is privy to previewing.

10. Two Writing Teachers: the teamwork of two teachers, despite nearly 600 miles apart, is seamless. Their site is full of ready-to-use ideas for a classroom teacher.

How many books have you read this year? I posed this question to my students yesterday, and the results were awe inspiring. Since my readers keep a detailed reading list in their reader’s notebooks, it posed little trouble to get a grand total from each block. I asked my kids to not count the read alouds we shared this year, and to not count any books abandoned throughout the nine months. The room was silent as the kids silently tallied book after book. In place of our regular status of the class (where they report the title and page they are currently on), my kids reported their grand total of books for the year. Below are the amazing numbers:

Block 1: 1102 total books, 20 students, 55 books on average per person

Block 2: 1559 total books, 24 students, 65 books on average per person

Block 3: 1214 total books, 23 students, 53 books on average per person

Block 4: 2041 total books, 23 students, 89 books on average per person

Total books read for all 4 blocks: 5916!

On average, my kids read between 40-50 books. Sure, there were a few who were under that total. And there were even a few who were way above the average, whose books numbered in the hundreds. Each block reveled in their success, both as an individual reader, as well as a class.

So, I ask you…how many books have you read this year?