Category Archives: Etc.

Etc., Teaching

How I know summer’s really over…

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…I started tutoring again last night. 

It was great to see M. again (she’s my only student this year, with two lessons a week), and to have my ego pumped by finding out how much she disliked working with another tutor up at their summer home these past couple of months.  (Let’s face it: we all like to have our ego pumped up.  It’s part of being human.)  And I’m happy to report that tutoring on Monday and Wednesday nights feels much more manageable and sane than last year’s Tuesday-Wednesday-Thursday schedule.  It’s a good feeling to do my tutoring gigs at the beginning of the week, when I’m fresh – or at least fresher.

The interesting side of my lesson with M. last night was discovering that her Wilson tutor for the summer didn’t faithfully adhere to the Wilson lesson plan and techniques.  A bit puzzling, considering that when I got certified in Wilson (in the summer of 2001), my trainer was extremely strict about following the structure of the Wilson Reading System to the letter (so to speak).  No deviations were allowed.  Period.  If we trainees didn’t follow the system, we wouldn’t get certified. 

And then I find out that M.’s summer tutor deviated in odd ways from the Wilson system.  For example, this tutor wouldn’t let M. see the sound cards in the decoding Quick Drill; M. told me that the tutor “hid the cards” from M. and simply asked her “What are the keywords for ‘a’?”  Wait a second – what about the sound/symbol connection, Ms. Summer Tutor?  Don’t you realize that is a hugely important part of teaching a child with dyslexia??

Ms. Summer Tutor also didn’t have M. write down any sounds on her dictation pages – once again demonstrating a clear lack of understanding of how the WRS works.  And Ms. Tutor didn’t have M. set up her own dictation pages, but instead used the pre-made dictation forms that can be downloaded from the Wilson website.  I feel the student’s setting up of her own dictation page is incredibly important, as it both builds a sense of being a partner in her own education, and also helps the student with transfering information from one page (the dictation template) to another (the actual dictation page) - a skill which comes into play when trying to copy information and assignments from the teacher’s whiteboard to the student’s notes. 

Another deviation that Ms. Summer Tutor made was to completely and totally skip the Step 10 Posttest.  This tutor simply moved M. on to Step 11 without confirming that M. had mastered the concepts of Step 10.  Wait a second.  The Wilson Reading System, as I was taught it, is all about achieving mastery and fluency.  There are firm guidelines for grading the posttests to ensure that the student has mastered all of the taught concepts and is fully fluent in decoding and encoding words with those concepts.  If the student fails the posttest, review of the step is required before moving on to the next step.  Skipping the posttest isn’t an option.  Most interestingly, Ms. Summer Tutor sent me an update saying that substep 10.5 had been introduced but not mastered, and that substep 11.1 also had been introduced.  So it was a conscious shirking of the mastery and fluency rules.  What’s up with that??

It’s disappointing to me that a parent looking for a Wilson tutor has to know how to ask all the right questions, and can’t simply depend upon the tutor having official Wilson certification.  I take my role as a Wilson certified tutor very, very seriously, and I don’t invent things or change things.  Barbara Wilson spent many years and much research developing this system, and it works.  Don’t mess with it.  In not messing with the WRS, I’ve had a great deal of success teaching students with dyslexia and other language based learning disabilities.  Other Wilson certified tutors should have respect for Barbara Wilson’ s work, and not mess around with what she spent years perfecting. 

Wow, I sound like some sort of cult member.  But seriously, my many successful students prove my point, and justify this soap box moment of mine.  And now I’ll step down from that soap box.  Thanks for listening!!

Etc.

Overheard

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Overheard, in a doctor’s office waiting room:

An older couple, sitting side by side.  He’s reading a magazine (probably People).

He leans over to his wife, holding out the open magazine.

“Do you know who this is?”

“Jennifer Aniston.”

“Are those her boobs?”

“No.”

“Is that her nose?”

“No.”

“Hmmm.  She’s had a lot of work done.  Why would she do that?”

“To get Brad back.”

Etc., Summer reading

Writer’s block

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Writer’s block.

I can’t remember ever having it before.  But I have it now.

Now that it’s summer, and I have plenty of time to write blog entries, it has become ridiculously hard to write those blog entries.

Everything that I write comes out stiff, forced, painful, yucky.  It takes me four times as long to write something that I’m one-quarter as proud of.

And on top of the awkward writing, I’m haunted by the voice of Cathie Mercier:  “Never use the word is in your writing!!”  Cathie used to circle every is on our papers in red ink, and I swear I can see red circles all over my blog entries.

Wicked annoying.  I hope this passes soon.

Etc., Spare time - Culture

Asparagus

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Last night we were making dinner, and I held up the last of the bunch of fresh asparagus from Verrill Farm.  “Want some?”  I asked Jim.

“Um, no,” he replied, “How about those snap peas in the fridge?”

“You don’t like asparagus, do you?”

“I do,” he said, “Just not three nights in a row.”

“But you didn’t have any last night!”

“No, ” he said, “but you did.”

Oh.

I get it.

Etc., Librarianship

The glasses

I finally did it.  After four years of living with a pair of glasses that I picked too quickly and never really liked – they’re rather non-descript and unisex – I finally bit the bullet and committed to a pair of funky, cool glasses.  They make a definite statement; they’re impossible to miss.  Maybe someday I’ll go back to wearing contacts, but for now I’ve got these glasses that Jim tells me look like the ones that belonged to Jimi Hendrix’s brother Leon.

So I guess I’m a real librarian now.  Because all librarians wear glasses, right?

Etc., Spare time - Culture

Insanity

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It could be the heat, I’m not entirely sure, but I went a little insane this afternoon.

Sitting at the computer, trying to update our woefully out-of-date finances, I suddenly lost it.  Ran and grabbed the vacuum.  Starting vacuuming up the ants that began invading the house this morning.  Didn’t work.  Ran to the foyer.  Grabbed a pair of shoes.  Stomped around the house yelling, “I hate you!  I hate you!  I hate you!”  Along with some other words, not polite ones.*

There are a lot of dead ants in our house now.  But even more live ones, having a little party in our basement.  I’m off to my boiling hot car to drive to the hardware store to buy ant traps – a lot of them.

I hate summer.  Blech.

*  it should be noted that I’m usually quite peace-loving when it comes to insects; the only ones I kill without hesitation are mosquitoes.  Otherwise I usually choose one of two options: walk around and ignore said insect, or gently scoop it up on a piece of paper and take it outside.

Etc., Summer reading

Sign of the times

Yesterday I went from store to store, asking very nicely for donations for our summer reading raffles.  I know times are tough, and so all I did at each store was present a donation request letter on the library letterhead; if there was any hesitation on the part of the store manager, I said, “I can just leave the letter, and if you decide you’d like to contact me, my phone number is at the bottom.”  Basically, I go into this project not really expecting anything, and am very happy if a store donates an item or gift certificate to the library.

Why do I ask for donations from local businesses?  Two reasons:  library budgets are small, and donations are one way to provide prizes for summer readers; and as a former small business manager, I am a firm supporter of local small businesses, and view this as a good way for local stores to promote themselves and expand their customer base.  If a store donates a $5.00 gift certificate, and the winner of that certificate comes to the store for the first time, that person just might decide that this is a store they want to visit again, and a new recurring customer is born.

In my travels yesterday, I did notice that there was a lot of fear and pain in the eyes of the store managers and owners.  Clearly, business is not good.  Clearly, the economy is taking its toll on small businesses.  By the end of the day, I was feeling rather crummy about having asked for donations, and very depressed about the state of our economy.  Things do not look good.

And then this morning I came into work to find a voicemail from a business owner who had donated last year.  It was a pretty angry, borderline combative message, saying something along the lines of, “Mailing a letter to my business isn’t enough.  You need to prove to me that you shop here.”  Ironically, I didn’t mail the letter, I came by in person.  And I do shop at the store.  I’m not on their mailing list, but I have shopped there.

In short, asking for summer reading donations was a pretty negative and depressing experience this year.  A true sign of the times; I’m frightened for what the future will be bringing to our country.

Etc., Spare time - Culture

Vacation

It’s been an odd vacation, but a good one.  Jim spent most of this past week painting the exterior of his mom’s house (I joined him in painting on two days), and today Jim and I worked with his brother to install a new floor in his mom’s sunroom.  And I ran a book group, tutored three lessons, and worked on some storytime planning. 

Even though we both worked – a lot – during this vacation, it was still a nice break from the daily grind, and I’ll be going back on Monday with fresh enthusiasm.  Just in time for summer reading…

Etc.

Sometimes, it’s all about the shoes

Before I start, let me just state the obvious: shoes have absolutely NOTHING to do with children’s literature, being a children’s librarian, or education.  But I’m on vacation, so I’m going to write about shoes, gosh darn it!

Two years ago, when Liz and Jean were visiting, the three of us went to a great sale at a local tack shop (Pegasus Farm).  Liz and I don’t have horses, and were a bit bored, so we looked at the shoes.  And I found the best pair of sandals ever, which I’ve worn almost every day for the past two summers.  Only one problem, really – they’re tan, and I wear a lot of black, even in the summer.  But Ariat had discontinued the item, so that was that.

And then today, on the Ariat website, I saw the sandals.  In black.  Wouldn’t you know, though, Ariat has already sold out of my size in black, with no plans to make any more.  Jeepers, guys.  Don’t you realize these are the best sandals ever and that you should make them forever??? 

I don’t give up easily, though, and managed to track down a pair on some obscure Western wear website, and phoned in the order to guarantee I’d get a pair.  I think the nice lady on the other end of the line thought I was a bit odd, being so excited about scoring a pair of rather ordinary-looking sandals.  I don’t care.  After the call was over, I did a little dance in the kitchen.

Because sometimes, it’s all about the shoes.

Etc.

Dream

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This is the dream I had last night:

I was having lunch with some people (the sort of blurred face, nameless people who sometimes inhabit dreams) at a restaurant.  I sat down at the table with these people, and was shocked to realize that the back wall of the  second-story restaurant was all glass, and looked out over a field that was the front line of a war.

You could see bunkers and trenches, and as I watched several soldiers on both sides were shot and killed in a flurry of exchanged bullets.

I gasped for breath and tried to scream, and looked desperately at the three people sitting at the table with me – but they were happily chatting together and eating their meals, totally oblivious to the war and death happening just outside the window.  Not one other person in the dining room noticed the war, or cared that soldiers were dying right in front of them as they dined.  I tried to scream again.

And then I woke up.