Language of Hope

A few days ago while scrolling through a social media site, I noticed that a student I teach had posted a photo with, what I consider to be, an offensive word. It is not uncommon for me to connect with students on some social networking sites. I am as selective about who I connect with as I hope and try… (read more)

Home Stories

Here. I took a step over the property line and stood on the driveway a while. I heard the radio tuned to CBC, the static from the old machine offering no real audio only comfort. Somewhere too, came screws jiggling inside old coffee tins and a saw moving along unused 2x4s, and I heard Dad sniff. I heard Dad sniff.… (read more)

Bird Feeders: The Red Shoes Series

The students I live alongside set a challenge, to write about the past/future. They set the challenge so I would finish a piece, put pen to paper, stop sitting in conversation so long with each of them, and step up to the mic. After all, we headline in a month. The future. The past. The future. Tricky business these places.… (read more)

Storying

This week marked meetings with our administrators to review our Profession Growth Plans. I am serving in a large composite high school this year and don’t get much face to face time with my principal. The time to chat were nice.  After we talked about my plan, my administrator commented, “I don’t really know what to call the work you’re… (read more)

There’s a Way

Last week at our school we read P.H. Reynolds’ book, I’m Here. Inspired by this book, the next day students and staff made, tossed paper air planes and then we shared stories and smiled. We are an alternate school and part of what we believe is finding ways to listen to and live alongside each other. Around here, we hope… (read more)

Holding Tickets

About a month ago I posted on Facebook asking if anyone might be interested in splitting next year’s Football season’s tickets. I had a few responses, but soon interest waned. Then, I’d figured the season was still half new. There was time yet. And time is important. Last March Dad had had a stroke. The stroke left him paralysed and… (read more)

I’m Here

(Red Shoes Series) Saturday Afternoon at the Cabin Everyone snoozes. From the far room, Dad’s snore’s whistle. When I was young Dad’s snores rolled in swells through the house. Once, while camping with my cousins, Dad’s snores woke campers two sites over. Dad’s snores are the sounds of home, the home of the youth where I turned over at night… (read more)
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