Unity: The Union Jack Coffee Shop

Part of a series in which I flesh out an imaginary town in Connecticut. Weird things happen there, not that the residents would ever acknowledge anything out of the ordinary.

The Union Jack Coffee Shop is at the end of one of the few quaint streets left in downtown Unity. Which quaint street is a matter of debate: every resident has a different set of directions there, based on a different set of landmarks from certain time periods. "Well, you take the left where the old Presbyterian church used to be, not the one with the blue side door, but the one with the big green one, and then you cut through the park on Church Street..." Of course, the fact that the coffee shop has no fixed address and isn't on any maps or in any phone books helps with the confusion. Nevertheless, if you aim right and your need for coffee is true, you almost always end up where you need to be.

The exterior is plain brick, weathered to a reddish-brown shade. There is a large glass window with the words UNION JACK COFFEE SHOP printed in black, along with the flag itself underneath. The door is an unremarkable dark brown wood, though the occasional visitor reports a stinging sensation from the plain metal door handle. Even from the outside, passersby can smell good rich coffee and freshly baked bread.

When you pull open the door, the small, silver bells inside the door give a deep ring, far deeper than their size would imply. The floor is tiled in dove gray, the walls and ceiling warm wooden beams. The first thing anyone sees is the wooden counter and the chalkboard behind it, proclaiming menu and prices. At one end of the counter is an ancient cash register. There is a handwritten sign taped to it: CASH ONLY. The tape is ancient; often the sign falls off during rigorous transactions and a customer has to return it to its rightful place. Otherwise, the counter has neat white trays of baked goods; irregularly shaped, so you know they're handmade. The coffee machine and mugs live on the shelf underneath the chalkboard. The mugs are irregularly shaped, faded to shades of dull pastel.

There is always a sullen student at work behind the counter, with appropriate amount of facial piercings and small town ennui. The owner is a hearty old man named Jack, though he isn't British. He is usually occupied with something small and industrious, like sweeping the floor or fixing a hinge or carving another set of chessmen for the coffee shop's sole chessboard. He knows everyone's order by heart, though he leaves the coffee-making to the sullen student.

The light in the Union Jack Coffee Shop brims over with warmth, like someone's aesthetic ideal of a coffee shop. There are several squashy red chairs arranged around a circular coffee table. The chessboard has the place of honor nearest the window and closest to the rattling heater. There are a few small wooden tables with wooden chairs scattered across the floor, but the rest of the decor is mostly books. There are books stuffed onto countless bookshelves built into the walls. They're nice books, pages aged to pale yellow, covers softened with age but still clean. The books at the Union Jack Coffee Shop are not for sale, and if enterprising clients try to smuggle any out, they'll find their bags empty when they check. On rare occasions, customers will arrive home with precisely the book they needed, whether or not they were searching for it. Who can say why? Certainly not Jack.

Rounding a Bend

I have been amazed by my class lately. Lessons that would have been a disaster five months ago are going off without a hitch, or at least with only one or two minor ones. We're studying coral reefs for our science expo, and my first graders are listening to tough informational texts, asking great questions, and writing about their learning. When they're done sketching pieces of real coral (borrowed from the great New England Aquarium), they wrap the coral up in plastic. They're more patient with each other--nary an argument spotted during a subtraction lesson with many moving parts, and they have been great about giving each other wait time on the rug.

"You are amazing!" I tell them many times, and then I follow that up with naming whatever amazing thing they're doing. I must be doing something amazing, too! I think, and then I try to figure out what. After all, Boston has had more than its share of snow days, not to mention February break. Did the maturity fairy visit all my first graders on the last night of break?

Today, pondering my class's maturity growth spurt, I looked over at the calendar. And the three birthdays there. And the two birthdays the month before. Good grief! In the span of six weeks, the majority of my class has gone from six years old to seven years old. What a difference a year makes!

I already knew that my class skewed toward the younger half of first grade, thanks to Chip Wood's birthday cluster exercise. If you're new to teaching, or even if you're an old pro, Yardsticks: Children in the Classroom Ages 4-14 is a fantastic read. Children, of course, are too busy growing in seven different directions at once to fall into strict categories, but Yardsticks provides general developmental guidelines. My chattering, tattling, exploring sixes are turning into thoughtful, introspective sevens. Well, at least until they get tired, or itchy, or hungry, or...

Albums I Have Loved: Spice Girls, Spice

March is women's history month, so this month's Albums I Have Loved will feature formative lady albums of my youth. And come on, there is no better place to start than the Spice Girls' first album. Their death-defying platform heels and "Girl power!" mantra were everything to me in fifth grade. Writers have made valid points about "I am woman, hear me roar!" getting watered down to "Girl power!" but the thing is, I was a girl when this album came out. The Spice Girls were unequivocally, delightfully for me. There was a Spice Girls table in the classroom. Battles were fought over who go to be which Spice Girl. It was dark times, man, but the pop sparkle was real.

Who the hell cares what zigazig-hah means? The album is here to tell us what it wants, what it really really wants, starting with "Wannabe." I know very few women in my generation who can't sing the song word for word, down to every last vocal inflection. I love that the song is candy-coated ridiculousness and dishes some solid advice. Dating a guy your friends hate? He's probably not the one for you. Your friends pressuring you to date a guy you don't like? You need some better friends. (The latter lesson came in handy in high school. Thanks, Spice Girls!)

For the next track... let's just talk about the music video.

Why are the Spice Girls striking poses, firing lasers, and kidnapping dudes in a desert? Because of reasons. What does it have to do with the song? Absolutely nothing. How did they get Geri's hair so big? It's the fuuuuuture! Who can break it down at the end like Mel C? No one. I love "Say You'll Be There" and the video is a trip and a half.

The next song, "2 Become 1," wins the coveted title of "#1 song I would nap to, but not, like, in a mean way." It's the relaxing pop ballad of my heart. I wish that this song and "Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely" could have babies. Also, I had no idea the lyric put it on, put it on referred to condoms until I just looked up this song on Wikipedia. Thanks for the advice, Spice Girls!

The narrator of "Love Thing" just doesn't want to be pushed around in a relationship, man. It also features the immortal line God help the mister who gets between me and my sisters, so I'm having fond flashbacks to college. I don't think this song is as strong as its predecessors, but I don't care as much about lyrical depth when I'm blasting dance music in my dorm to console a heartbroken friend.

"Last Time Lover" has a super embarrassing "rap" section, let's just get that out of the way. But I dare you to get Do ya think I'm really cool and sexy? out of your head for the next three hours. It made working with small children interesting, let me tell you. "Mama" is pure schlock, but hey, mother-daughter relationships don't get enough attention in any form of media. As someone who lived through the traditional mother-daughter conflict, it was nice to know there was understanding waiting for me on the other side.

I think "Who Do You Think You Are" deserves more acclaim. It's super catchy! It tells you how to dance to the song right in the chorus! Swing it shake it move it make it, who do you think you are? Granted, then the dance floor directions become more vague--trust it use it prove it groove it--but oh, Spice Girls, you lead and I will follow.

As we get toward the end of the album, inevitably there is filler. "Something Kinda Funny" is just not that memorable. Sorry, 10-year-old self. "Naked" was probably inappropriate for a fifth-grader, but there was far worse on the radio. As an adult, I appreciate the groove, and there's even a little nuance to the lyrics. I'd rather be hated than pitied indeed.

The album closes with "If U Can't Dance," because nothing is more 90's than spelling "you" with a single letter. The song is dumb. There is an inexplicable Spanish rap. There is a lyric about wanting a guy that looks like Keanu Reeves. At this point, I am clutching my CD to my chest and yelling, "You just don't understand!!!" No, I don't understand, either, but I will follow this CD to the gates of hell.

Snowmelt

Every Saturday (or Sunday, if some of us fail at timing), I will write 15 minutes of flash fiction. This is based on the prompt "snowmelt."

The pine tree branches shivered off snow as Gabe pushed through them. He kept his grumbling internal, even when the icy powder fell into the slight gap between his scarf and his neck. Sharon didn't like him to talk on the way to lessons--something about "absorbing the moment of transition"--and his mother would never forgive him for disobeying a teacher's direct instruction. Besides, Sharon was cool, for all her odd habits of mind.

"Here," Sharon announced, coming to a sunny clearing. The longest side was about six feet wide, Gabe estimated, and the other sides tapered into a sloppy but definite natural triangle. Despite the knee-deep snow, Gabe felt a grin split his face. Today's lesson would involve magic.

"Spring is starting," Sharon announced, despite the overwhelming and cold evidence to the contrary. He might have made a face, because she continued, breath steaming in the air, "Even in Maine. The quality of light has changed. Sap stirs. We exist in the margin between seasons. Water exists in three forms, twisting back and forth." She closed her eyes, inhaling. "Marvelous."

When Sharon exhaled, her breath emerged in a cloud of snowflakes. They gave a curious quiver and became drops of water suspended in the air. Gabe's eyes filled with tears as they shone like tiny diamonds, then evaporated as though they'd never been there at all.

"Now you try," Sharon said. She didn't say anything more as Gabe wiped away the one tear that managed to escape. She was understanding like that, despite being a woman and closer to his grandmother's age than Gabe's.

Gabe spent the next thirty minutes huffing and puffing to no avail, of course. Sharon wasn't like any of his public school teachers, giving directions and then explaining them again if you didn't get it the first time. She expected you to pay attention and figure things out for yourself. It was maddening, and only the subject material--magic, real magic, because of all people in town, only the skinny mixed race kid showed a knack for it--kept him trying.

Okay. Being the Big Bad Wolf isn't helping, Gabe thought. He had called lightning at the height of summer in a burst of energy, convinced the last roses of autumn to bloom, and dreamed with bears hibernating in winter. Every success had come from finding a place of perfect stillness, a place where he was open to everything and at the same time the most Gabe he had ever been.

So be Gabe, he thought, and then it was easy. He was most himself in the quiet focus of woodwork, in the thrill of a pretty girl's smile, in the tears he shed when something was so beautiful it brought with it a kind of ache.

Facing the point of the triangle, Gabe called back the escaped tear from earlier. Its connection to him hadn't yet faded, and Gabe tugged gently on that thinning tether until it reappeared. It hung in the air as a single snowflake until Gabe called more water from the surrounding air. He laughed and they all became drops of water; laughed again and they reunited with the air. Joy and sorrow and the space between--that was magic.

"Well done," was all Sharon said. She was a woman of few words, except in one of her philosophical moods. "Let's go home."

A-plus for the day, Gabe thought, though he knew better than to say it aloud.

Julep February It Girl Box (Kind Of)

In a spectacular display of ineptitude, I managed to skip my January Julep box. When the February Maven window opened, I dove in, determined to score nifty colors and a Valentine's Day-appropriate polish. I swapped out another black for a gorgeous purple, added a sparkly reddish pink, and then opened my box to find a bonus Valentine's top coat! Now that is what I'm talking about.

From left to right: Carla, Becky, Hazel, Ada, and Hartleigh.

Despite photographing these polishes in natural light, I had a hell of a time getting nice lighting in the sad, dim recesses of my first floor. It took much angling, but I finally got a good shot of my hasty paint job. Did I mention that every month is a frenzy of polish-trying because otherwise I will procrastinate forever?

From left to right: Hartleigh worn over Carla, Ada, Hazel, Becky, and Carla.

Hartleigh is a "holographic heart glitter top coat." It delights my elementary school teacher heart. Tons of glitter! Some of the glitter is shaped like HEARTS! I don't go nuts about Valentine's Day, but I have fun wearing seasonally appropriate gear to school.
Ada is a "bright rhubarb fizzy." I have no idea how nail polish might fizz. I love how layered the glitter looked after two coats. Almost 3-D!
Hazel is a "wild violet and bronze duochrome." ZERO REGRETS ABOUT SWAPPING OUT ANOTHER BLACK FOR THIS COLOR. The duochrome didn't photograph well, but it's definitely there and definitely a gorgeous color for any season.
Becky is a "oil slick duochrome silk." Silk, Julep? Whatever, it's lovely and shiny with the same type of colors you see floating at the top of oil.
Carla is a "tea rose crème" and a beautiful pale pink for winter-almost-oh-please-spring.

Bonus shot of my Valentine's Day (elementary observed) manicure:

Someday I will master the art of the neat, perfect manicure.

Feeling nail polish-happy and spend-y? Feel free to sign up for Julep using my referral link.

5 Things I Wish Someone Had Told Me About Teaching

A friend who wants to change careers and become a teacher asked me to write about some things I wish I had known before I started teaching. I could do a year's worth of posts on this topic, but for now, here are five.

1) Student teaching cannot prepare you for the reality of teaching. Teaching is an infinitely complex art that's also an infinitely complex science. You need to track a ton of data, adhere to a ton of teaching standards, make a million lesson plan adjustments, balance learning styles, run parent-teacher conferences, contribute to staff meetings, fill out reports... The list goes on forever. When you're student teaching, you're with a veteran teacher who knows their stuff and has excellent systems in place. Your mentor teacher can help fix any mistakes you make and just provide a second pair of hands in the classroom. When you're a certified teacher, you're on your own for most of the day (unless you're fortunate enough to have an aide), and you are the sole person responsible for your teaching. Your first year of teaching will be so UNBELIEVABLY tiring and you will wish you could spend about two years learning at the side of a master teacher.

2) You need to be good at so many things outside of the teaching scope. Teachers are also event planners, counselors, nurses, and secretaries. If your school does any school-wide challenges (reading, math, fitness, you name it) or fundraisers, then you will be in charge of tracking everything on top of your regular teaching work. You will learn to estimate the severity of a fever based on the feel of a child's forehead. You will call certain parents a hundred billion times to get permission slips signed. Parents will confide in you and ask for advice because they trust you. When you're willing to trust someone with your child, sometimes you're willing to confide other things as well, like a recent escape from domestic violence. My real cross to bear has been event planning, because I am terrible at it. BUT parent connection is important, and everyone will turn out for great food and a nice party. Just try not to let your inner control freak ruin the party for you!

3) Even if you don't adore all your coworkers, the majority of them will be good, hard-working people. I think this is important to keep in mind in teaching jobs, which are super stressful. They're stressful because they involve helping people! Some of your coworkers might rub you the wrong way and you might not agree with their decisions, but most of them come to work and and work hard every day to help kids. Teaching is such a team sport that you have to find a way to work with your coworkers. It might involve compromise, it might involve "agree to disagree," but if you start from a place of respect, you'll be able to work with just about anyone. Oh, and just in case I sound scary--most of your coworkers will be nice people and you'll get along just fine. Teaching attracts nice, helpful people, for some reason.

4) All the "extra" projects can be the most memorable, meaningful parts of school for the kids. No, I'm not talking about the generic art projects where everyone colors in the same thing, cuts it out the same way, and glues it to the same paper. I'm talking about the cooking projects. I'm talking about making playdough, or Ooblek, or interactive dioramas. I'm talking about constructing strong bridges, or "boats" that can hold the most pennies. I'm talking about meaningful explorations of an art style or technique that result in kids creating their own artwork. You learn a ton about engaging, meaningful lessons in educator prep programs, but when you get to a school, you're typically handed a curriculum and told to follow it. Most of the "extras" need to be built in. For instance, my students have to write "how to" books, but it doesn't say in the curriculum that you should DO some sequential projects like cooking, then have the kids write about what they did. Putting steps in logical order and writing supply lists are so much easier when you've already experienced them!

5) Say no, and say no often. You do enough work already. Your educator prep programs will make sure to tell you that teachers lead "rich outside lives" without providing you any ideas for ensuring you have TIME for any kind of outside life. In your first few years of teaching, it's easy to let it consume your entire life. You'll feel kind of like you're back in high school or college, only this time you have 500 times the homework and should not sign up for any extracurriculars until you have a year or two under your belt. Just say no to committees! If you must join one, pick one you are truly passionate about, like faculty senate or coaching a sport you adore. YOU HAVE ENOUGH WORK ALREADY. YOU HAVE ENOUGH WORK FOR TWO PEOPLE. JUST SAY NO TO MORE WORK. Teachers are overachievers by nature, but JUST SAY NO. In your first year of teaching, when you are sick for the third time in two months and coughing all over your laptop as you try to fill out report cards, you will think, Wow, at least I don't have to prepare a PowerPoint for the school climate committee meeting later today, or even stay after school for it! and thank me for my wisdom. JUST SAY NO.

I'm sure I'll think of plenty more things once I hit Post, but we'll leave it at that for now. I think that educator prep programs are great and teach a lot of important information. I also think they shy away from some of the uglier realities of teaching (the way it consumes your entire life, for instance) because they're afraid of scaring students away. I don't want to scare anyone away, either! I just want brand new educators to know that it's normal to feel overwhelmed and to need a long time to truly get your sea legs, so to speak. Teaching is something that you have to work on continually. There is no Perfect Teaching Forever trophy that guarantees your success. I am not the source of all teaching wisdom, but I hope I've acquired some over the past five years.

Honest Winter Fashion

 I love to read fashion blogs. I think knowing how to make yourself look great is an important skill, plus it's fun. But all this "winter" fashion with bare legs and coats left unbuttoned to display beautiful outfits, worn on magically slush-free streets? I had to laugh. Then I had to do a post about the winter "fashion" I've sported in Boston. In case you haven't heard, we got 7 feet of snow in 3 weeks and our public transit system is broken forever.

To review, here's what fashion blogs think represents winter:

"Tra-la, I hope my earrings don't get caught in my skis once we get to the lodge!"

And here are seven looks inspired by actual winter in good ol' Boston:

Look #1: Wake up and stumble to the bathroom because your room is an icebox.

I woke up like this. (Cold. Very cold.)

Look #2: Wear the thickest and most unflattering clothing you own. Wear them in the least flattering way possible because it's just that cold.

My look of resentment says it all.

Look #3: Why not wear BOTH of the thickest sweaters you own? You are now somewhat hopeful that you will ever feel your fingers again.

Stylin'.

 Look #4: Cook at least two dishes a day to warm up your house. Now you don't have to worry about your sweaters hiding your waistline.

Brownies and clementine cake will keep us alive, right? 

Look #5: Bundle up in all of your winter gear. Regret buying a light-colored winter coat because public transit has left grime you can never dry clean away.

Secretly, I regret nothing. PINK COAT!

 Look #6: Give up and sacrifice yourself to the frost giants. The snowdrifts will carry you to the afterlife and the sun will return.

I'm honestly surprised our grill has made it this far.

Look #7: Wonder why you thought this was a good idea. You're not even getting paid.