Numbering 32, Summer Workshops & Jack

32…

Let’s count them… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32…

Did you get all that?

Yes, on Sunday I will take 32 journalism staffers to the Gloria Shields All-American Publications workshop where I will spend five days and four nights with my 32 teenagers who will be immersed in planning and learning about newspaper/yearbook/photography for the upcoming school year. Yes, 32 of mine along with about 800 or so other high school kiddos.

It makes me tired just thinking about it. Exhausted actually. 32.

So you see while I have been without my DIs (Darling Inspirations) for a month now, I’m sure I will have a plethora of things to write about upon my return (and we all know how I feel about things, don’t we? But let’s hope we don’t have any of those kind of things to write about upon my return).

Now I should be sorting through stacks of workshop stuff accumulated in various piles throughout my bedroom and getting ready for that workshop. I should be making lists of things to do, things I should do, things I want to do (I wish), and so forth and so on.

Instead, I’ve chosen to use the stacks of stuff as an obstacle course of sorts and decided to, instead, ponder how I’m like my German Shepherd, Jack. (You remember, Jack don’t you? If not, read about him here.)

So here it goes… why Jack and I are alike…

Exhibit #1…Although Jack is humongous weighing in at 98 or so pounds, he believes and sees himself about the size of a 4-pound Chihuahua. Kind of like this one, but, of course, without the frou-frou-ey pink outfit.
I, of course, see myself as a size 4-ish… Something I haven’t been since I was born. Still, that’s how we view ourselves which actually explains quite a lot of things… like why Jack and I always seem to get stuck in some rather precarious situations, and why people ask, with some level of concern… “Hey, how’s that job going? Any, uh, problems?” See what I mean?


Exhibit #2…Let’s present for your perusal a recent photo of Jack with his nifty back pack… (and, goodness gracious no, I do not have big ears like Jack)…
Jack willingly carries lots of burdens especially everyone’s water bottles (mine as well as his and Millie’s and Sasha’s (our other two dogs…and yes, I walk all three of them at one time. I know, I know, I know.) So Jack carries lots of burdens for other people. Now what teacher doesn’t carry burdens and have to juggle things--all sorts of things? Oh, the whining we could do on that one, but we won’t. (After all, this is more or less a no-whining blog, and Jack, for the most part, is a no-whining dog.


Exhibit #3…Since Jack is just under a year and half old, he tends to have an attention span somewhere between a gnat and a ferret on crack. As I age, I seem to have…now, what was I talking about… ferrets? crack? gnats? Jeez Louise…

So there you have it… Oh, one more thing, though. With Jack, every day presents a new day of possibilities and opportunities.

And for that, I try to be just like him.

And, you know, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

And, I’ve got 32 possibilities and opportunities on the horizon.

Crazy Stupid, St. Bernard & Jack

My life hovers somewhere between crazy and stupid, and quite frankly, I’m not sure which wins in the worse category–the crazy or the stupid. Perhaps for T.S.Eliot, April may have been the cruellest month, but for me, let’s just call it crazy stupid. (Less poetic I know, but true.)

I had written a bunch--OK, so maybe not a bunch…perhaps one or two–very clever posts in my head, but promptly forgot them. You see, I was unable to access my blog and not because of the Information Superhighway Gatekeepers Bess and her sidekick St. Bernard. Nope. It was German Shepherd Jack (notice the lack of “saint” in front of his name).



You see, Jack, my 90-plus pound, 1-year-old shepherd apparently decided he could provide a better filter for our Internet connection by just eliminating it.


Now, I’m sure you’re pondering what, if anything, this has to do with education. Well, I had a lot of time to think since I was unable to access the internet (not necessarily a good thing--the thinking that is). Any way, Jack’s appalling behavior provided an interesting comparison between his lapse in training and my students. Now, pah-leese before you sick the PETA people on me for comparing animals to humans, just bear with me.

A few weeks ago, Jack decided he didn’t want to come in when called. Instead, he decided he preferred to stand just out of reach by the door. He also decided that he preferred to mock his humans by peering around the corner in hopes of a rousing game of chase. When we didn’t succumb and left him outside unattended, Jack decided to disconnect the internet connection.

I spent quite a bit of time talking to my dog training instructor and my dog expert sister, Maggie Bonham. My dog trainer–not unlike our student’s parents–asked me, “What did you do to him?”

After much analysis, we decided that Jack trained us to respond to his behavior instead of him responding to us. So now we have to unlearn this dance we’ve created.

Of course, all this got me thinking about my classroom and the classrooms of my peers, and I thought that perhaps sometimes when things aren’t working–maybe, just maybe–we should re-examine who has trained whom.

Just a thought.

Meanwhile, my husband thinks next time I should just buy a shock collar. I’m not sure if he meant for Jack or the kids.