Film, Music, and Literature Influences of 2007

This is my chance to offer up suggestions for your expanding cultural savvy.
These are my, somewhat overlapping, highlights from 2007.

Film: While very different, these two top my list this year for story telling, each in their own way.
ONCE
Into the Wild

Music:
Swell Season (and music from the movie ONCE)
Jose Gonzales, In our Nature
Mike Doughty, Golden Delicious
Fiest, The Reminder
Block Ice and Propane, cello music by photographer Lee Freidlander's son, Erik
The Project, Winter in June (video of a Mingus tune!)
Turkish clarinetist, Selim Sesler, from the German movie Crossing the Bridge. Watch him play!
Iron and Wine, The Shepherds Dog

Influential writers:
Orhan Pamuk
Diane Ackerman, her new book The Zoo Keepers Wife
Michael Pollan
Richard Louv, check out the Children and Nature Network

10.19 Birth

I rode in on the lingering breathy kiss of a wind storm. Morning sun climbed out above the cloudy covers, giving garden trees a rainbow of red, orange, yellow, and late-lying green waves with the warm light. We were born today in a children's garden, full of seeds like the pumpkin we discovered there among the bent sunflowers.

The light was fleeting. Rains came quickly. Drops of sweetness secretly gathered, and when the bell rang, they sang to me as I blushed. Maybe rain is a teen-ager—shifting intensity throughout the day, stomping on the ceiling, hailing attention from even the most focused, and fading as it breaks. At one point, I shivered just looking out the streaked window.

A mixed bag blossomed as I zipped into my hatches to saddle up. Sun burst on the west; skies tumbled on the east. In the crossroads I pushed off with rainbows in my head, heart, and horizon. I was thwaped alive, smiling. Soon, like any good storm, there were blue skies, Magritte clouds, and still puddles.

under an orange sky

One of the joys of riding my bike to work so early in the morning is the sunrise. Not just viewing it from a window, but being in it--waking and breathing with it, becoming colored and growing warm. Today the sky was ablaze, fire orange, pumpkin-gut gorgeous. The Cascades, a serrated knife, carved a seasonal jack-o-lantern out of the last few spooky rainy days. What a treat!

Curiosity strikes again

True, it has been too long since I've added a post to this blog. But once, seven years ago, I committed to recording the life of a dear friend as a mama. When her daughter speaks words of inquiry or wisdom, I swore I'd write them down. So last night, the six year old calls me up. "Didi, since you are a science teacher, I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Can you separate gas?"

"Yes."

"How?"

and I launch into a kid friendly explanation of helium party balloons and density as a characteristic property of matter, which my 6th grade students will learn this very week. I continue on about the mixture of air around us, including oxygen we breathe.

"We also breathe in carbon dioxide," she chuckles.

"What's so funny?" I wonder.

"Carbon dioxide." She repeats. "Such a hard word to say!"

"Beautiful." Simply beautiful.

Learning Turkish

Merhaba.
It's funny how learning one new language can trip your brain into remembering other languages. In Turkish, where is translates as "nereye". But in my head I keep repeating "doko deska?" which is Japanese for where is. My mind is playing tricks. What these two languages have in common is that I can't for the life of me hear the break between words. Japanese was a slurry of syllables. Turkish sounds to me as if the speaker has marbles in his mouth. How are you? sounds like nashulsuhnhuz. My ear for language is hardening and I've had more difficulty with these two than with any other, including Nepali. In fact, I'm recalling words in Nepali as I learn new words in Turkish. Kalo chia dinos. I'll take that tea, iced, in the Mediterranean.
Gorusuruz.

The Low Carbon Commute

Yesterday was the first day of the 2007 Bike to Work Commuter Challenge. I head up a team from school again, where this year I've doubled the participation of staff. So, wearing my team captain t-shirt I pushed off from school yesterday at 3 o'clock to bike 15 miles north to Bothell's NorthShore School District office for an Earth Charter Global Climate Workshop for teachers. The sponsors were a great set of organizations: Yes! magazine, Facing the Future, and World Affairs Council. The keynote speaker was the renown Dr. Richard Gammon of UW's Program on the Environment. What a way to kick off the low carbon commute. Do what you can to reduce your carbon footprint. For us in the Northwest, with hydropower, transportation is the number one cause of carbon emissions.

Today was another reason to bike to work. The University Bridge was closed all day due to a water main leak that created a sink hole. Traffic, including bikes, rerouted over other bridges. I nearly had an entire, normally busy street, to myself! Bike on!

Force of Friction

Force of Friction
(more weight equals more friction)

In the week before opening day
of the baseball season
I review friction with my students:
If an elephant slides
into home plate
or a mouse
slides into home plate,
who
gets the worse turf burn?

The catcher,
one student says.

Matt’s thrown the best of curve balls
from the back row,
and doesn’t even bat an eye.

I take a victory laugh
on this home run.

Dark; Basement

Yesterday, the president stole the sun from my morning bike ride. Daylight savings this early in the season covers my favorite cherry treed street with darkness, instead of sun drenched crisp air and a petal fall that makes my wheels spin. Damn. There will be nothing but leaves by the time the light returns to that ride.

Today, I climbed down the six rungs through the circular hole in the floor to reach the crawl space basement at school. I walked West ducking my head to avoid pipes, one of which must have burst, as the building hadn't had heat for since yesterday. I exited in the main science department store room, up the rusted rungs and out into another teaching day!

The ambassador of Kale

It seems I've become an unofficial advocate for Kale.

Two weeks ago when discussing a lab on the properties of elemental oxygen I mentioned antioxidants. Antioxidants slow the aging process that occurs every time we breathe (and oxidize our cells). The secret to a long life, I told students, could only be whispered. They hushed and leaned forward on the end of their chairs.

Three words: Green. Leafy. Vegetables.

The ensuing moans and giggles are delightful. I shared a recipe for Kale Crispies (thank you Helsing Junction) both outloud and on my classpage on the web. Let them eat Kale!

Within a week I've heard the following feedback:

• "Even my little sister liked it!"--Student
• "By the way I really like kale, and my son loves it. He used to walk around saying " Kale! Kale! Kale! I love kale". It was really weird, but I was very happy that he liked it so much."--Email from the Tech Support guy in the district who observed and helped arrange my class page at the change of the semester.
• and this:
  

The note came with a gift certificate.
The gifts of getting kids to eat kale is rewarding enough.

and today's Science New York Times essentially hails my efforts for the consumption:

Nutrition: Adolescents Aren’t Eating Their Vegetables

Eat food, not nutrients

There are only a handful of writers whose every word is worth hanging on. Michael Pollan is one of those greats. I enjoy his quick style, his well researched discoveries, and his subject matter. He writes about food. More importantly, he writes about the culture of food, relationships with food, and the connection to the ecology and soil. In his most recent New York Times article, Pollan criticizes "nutrionalism", not nutrition. He offers nine suggestions for healthy eating. I've been following them for years. I'm glad he's sharing these simple and important ideas with others. I'm glad you can get a glimpse of my philosophy of living through his fine words.

Meany Lodge Weekend

Photos are here.

Otherwise a dry ride

Light lingers before five as
dusk draws crows home
to the rookery near the Arboretum,
where from McGraw street
those perched in birch trees, and on wires,
look like scattered coal buttons
from yesterday’s snowmen,
now glacial erratics on green grass
dripping into saturated soils.

It’s otherwise a dry ride home.

Snow People

Snow day number 5

Herman Saddle, Baker Backcountry

MLK weekend

As I slept in the car before dawn on the way to Mt. Baker, I was dreaming. I woke somewhere on 542 with sunrise clouds looking like flames rising out of dark peaks. Before 9 am we arrived at the Mountaineers parking area as scheduled to meet up with Kevin Steffa for our tour. After signing into the lodge we pushed off in the glorious sun. A few steps out, I broke the buckle on my skin. The lodge vice and a handy zip tie did the trick.

Deciding the difficulty of our destination was in large part due to the range of skiers in our group. My housemate Daryl and her friend Nate were newbies to the back country and had been making tele turns only a handful of times. Nick and Kevin were by all means competent. For me, the sun wasn’t the only thing casting a shadow on our destination options.

The last time I was in this area was July where I sustained a serious shoulder injury near Table Mountain. I have been back on my skis since the accident a number of times this season. I’m strong, at least physically. However, I had hesitation about Artist Point and Table Mountain proper. Plus, both Kevin and I wanted to see some new views. So we decided to head for Herman’s saddle.

The stability of the snow sang a sweet song. The styrofoamy squeak of steps and pole punches was the sure sign of consolidation. In addition, there was no wind. It was nothing but glorious. The tour was straightforward out from the Bagley Lakes flats, with only minor skinning difficulties for one member of our group due to skinny skins and lack of climbing wires on her rental gear. It was surprisingly hot in the sun. Occasionally we’d hear the loud scrape of a boarder hitting the dominant unbreakable crust beneath the 4 to 5 inches of shimmering powder. The saddle itself showed signs of wind sculpted snow revealing the ice at the surface.

From the saddle (5300’) we soaked up the sun, lounging in the sweetness of this day and the stunning views of both Shuksan and Baker. Nick and Kevin opted for an additional climb above the ridge. I led Nate and Daryl on the descent. The snow was better than I had thought given the crust. Turns were smooth, quick, and sweet. We chased the sun and shadows back into the basin.

Returning to the lodge I ran into fellow TAY’er Dave_R and his family. They’d been at the resort Sunday and we swapped condition reports, as we headed to the lifts on Monday.

I woke up this morning and it was snowing. I love snow days!

more photos

Sunrise, Snow Day: Seattle

Snow fell most of last evening and blanketed Seattle and cities around the Sound. Hardly enough for a snow day back East, but sure enough, with limited snow removal service, we have our fourth day off from school due to weather. 20K more troops in Iraq, huh big boy? What about that No Child Left Behind thing? You're not just leaving them in dust, with your poor budget plans, you're leaving them in the snow.

So we take snowflakes and make play days. Sledding with neighbor kids, walking the wintery world, and watching the flurry of feathers from chickadees on twigs in the back yard. I'm reading a great book right now called Winter World. It's a lovely companion to hot chocolate, a blanket, and the comfort of new snow.

Stay warm.

Full Moon in verse

I
I held up the filter paper
with an outstretched arm
to show them how to fold it.
Half the class disappeared behind
the brilliant orb
as I squinted,
and dreamed for tonight’s full moon
to separate out from the constant drip.

II
The whorls of my fingertips
warmed by a tea mug
this winter evening.
Steam rises,
mingles with the bare branches
out my kitchen window.
I’ve caught the full moon
on the end of this string,
bobbing in the dark brew.

Back in the Middle

Sometimes I forget what I do for a living. Yet when the alarm goes at 5:30 (and I realize it is not to go skiing), and I drive half sleepy to work, put the key in my door, the reality rushes at me like a heat wave, which does in fact occur when I open the door to my classroom. By 7:10 I'm trying to remember faces of students I haven't seen in almost three weeks, thanks to a power outage just before break. But by 8 o'clock, when most of you haven't even gotten your coffee, I'm remembering why I love this gig.

Students fall into routine and rigor. We reflect and review and roll on. A few students bring me rock candy and illustrated descriptions of a saturated solution while others wonder, "You mean you want us to bring you candy?" when they discover the sweet extra credit project on solubility has been extended.

It's hard work. And although there are frustrations with the bureaucracy and the politics of public education, I know I'm lucky to do what I do. I think my kids are lucky too.

Two New York Times articles show the challenges of being in the middle, and pushing through.
1. Stay in school, be healthy
2. Middle School Challenges