More, please. I'm stuffed.

Well Thanksgiving is over and Black Friday is behind us, but we're all still feeling their effect. If your Thanksgiving was a great one like mine was, that means you had plenty to eat. It also means that there is lots of turkey left over, sitting in the refrigerator, waiting to be made into something "else" that doesn't resemble turkey at all. . . . There's turkey carver sandwiches, turkey soup, turkey ka-bobs, turkey gumbo, turkey salad, turkey enchiladas, and turkey in the trash can. Most people I talked to couldn't wait to eat something, anything besides turkey, which is why restaurants do so well the Friday after Thanksgiving, and Boston Market??? well, not so well.

It's okay to get tired of it, so don't feel bad about throwing it away. If you can't bear to throw away perfectly good food, do what I do: keep it in your fridge for several weeks, keeping it as an option each night for dinner, but only as a "fake" option. Once the turkey begins turning green and slimy, it's okay to toss it out. No one is going to fault you for that. Dressing, on the other hand, is another story. First of all, you're probably not likely to have any of that left over, unless your family is like mine, where the matriarchs with their secret, proven recipe make batches and batches of the stuff so that everyone gets to take some home with them. I can, and have, made entire meals out of just a plate full of left over stuffing and gravy. No need to cleverly disguise it as anything else. Besides, the density of the stuff means that it has a longer shelf life than turkey parts, especially if that shelf is in a refrigerator, and especially if that refrigerator is plugged in and is cooling properly . . . but I digest . . .

As for Black Friday, yes, that day is behind us too. It's kind of ironic that the biggest day of commercial exploitation and display of human greed and avarice, a day where we buy things we do not need at prices we cannot refuse, especially if it is "limit two per person," follows a national holiday in which we are supposed to give thanks for the things we have, for the things that matter most to us as we partake in a ceremonial dinner surrounded by friends and family. It's like, "be happy for the blessings you already have, then go out and hoard more material possessions."

Venturing out on Friday a.m. to watch the behavior of the masses of "bargain" hunters, you would never guess that our nation is in a financial recession. People were shopping for widescreen, high-def TVs as if they were going out for bread, milk, and eggs: every shopping cart at Wal-Mart, Sam's, Target, and Cost Co (a few of the places we went to) had one in it. Why even at Academy Sporting Goods, I heard a customer ask, "Where's you TVs? Are you already sold out?" It was very entertaining to watch people race to get a piece of the pie. I felt like I should have been eating popcorn, at least I know for next year. For example, at Wal Mart, there were 4 fiercly competetive people standing in front of the last 3 plasma TVs on the floor, each with a hand on a box making intimidating looks at one another while calling their spouses on the cell phone held in their other hand: "I got one . . . I think . . . how are things at your store?". One of them was going to lose, or take a chance on the stock persons bringing out some "fresh" ones from the back later on. It was like watching musical chairs, except the loser was left to watch TV on their old, standard, antiquated cable, color TV.

I began wondering if we were fighting over HDTVs in prehistoric times, back when the saber tooth tiger was king and civilization was slightly less than what it is today if the "hand on the box" technique would be sufficient to claim the prize. Imagine a smaller animal catching its prey and preparing to feast upon it when the saber tooth tiger comes onto the scene. "Pardon me," says the tiger, "as hungry as I am and as much as would love to eat what you have, I see you have your paw on the carcass, so off I hungrily go . . . " Oh how far we have come and yet so little progress we've made.

I guess the only two consolations for those who didn't get what they wanted on Black Friday is that they could have taken advantage of the latest, greatest deals today during "Cyber Monday," the most recent ploy of commercial retailers to create a false sense of consumer urgency and value. The final consolation is that at least they have turkey leftovers waiting for them at home in the fridge.

A slice of Pumpkin Pi

Yesterday felt like a Thursday, minus the "Grey's Anatomy." With Thanksgiving on Thursday, we in public education reap the benefits of having a few days off from school, I mean work. While most business establishments get Thursday off, and possibly Friday, students and teachers get the day off before Thanksgiving, kind of like a "pre-vacation," or a day to relax and rest up before the big day of R&R (and eating) the following day. OR, a day to hit the "Blowout Day Before Thanksgiving Sale" at Kohl's. Not a bad deal, I have to admit.

That means that today, a Tuesday, will feel like a Friday, minus the fact that we won't be able to don our "causal Friday" denim. Believe it or not, there are some teachers who actually complain about this! I say, "wear khaki today, denim the next six." Regardless, the spirit and mindset of everyone at school today is going to be that of "no work, all play." As I will attempt to proceed to teach a new lesson, khaki pants and all, the students will invariably, incredulously ask, "You're going to assign us homework over Thanksgiving?!?!" Oh, I love to hear this. There are SOOOO many delicious ways I can answer that, assuming I acknowledge it at all. Here are some ways you can turn their disbelief into mirthful disappointment.

• Of course I'm not. I'm assigning it today. What you don't finish by tonight, you can finish your first day back next Monday. In fact, I insist you don't do it over the break, especially at the dinner table on Thursday.
• Without math homework, you wouldn't be able to properly give thanks. Do you realize how many people around the world are starving for knowledge and thirsting for the opportunity to learn higher-level math skills???
• You're about to go 6 days without seeing me. I've got to give you something by which to remember me!
• Yes
• What did you expect me to give you? Social Studies homework?
• You're right. Some people travel away from home for the holiday. Perhaps we should call it "away-from-school work."
• Don't worry. I'm a professional. I know what I'm doing.
  
• In the spirit of abundance and plenitude, not only do you have homework, but it will consist of 100 problems. Go ahead and gorge yourself on math.

The list goes on and on. The students know me well enough by now that I think they ask the question just to get the reaction out of me. But I always answer matter-of-factly then quickly proceed with the math at hand (it doesn't teach itself, does it?) All in all, though, it's great fun and and awesome responsibiliy to shape and alter students' expectations and habits. I don't think anyone in MY classes really walk in expecting a "free" day, even though they utter the question, "Can we have a free day today?" It's just their way of acknowledging what OTHER, less-fortunate students might be doing on that given day. It's their way of modestly recognizing that more IS expected of them, that they ARE fortunate to have a instructor who is so passionate and focused on delivering the curriculum appropriately. They say things like that in good humor because that's the climate I've created in the classroom.

Deep down, though, they know that comments like that really are nothing but jokes with great punchlines, and that, come Thursday, they have so much to give thanks for, including copious amounts of math homework.

Physical Therapy Redux

This week, after two weeks of being left to my own regiment of leg lifts, heel slides, and quad sets, I began physical therapy again. With so many bad experiences in the past on three different occasions raging from being unimpressed to being downright insulted, I was again reluctant to start a three-session-per-week, 4 to 8 week commitment. As always, I went in with open mind but guarded trust. It would all come down, as it always does, to the people involved.

Tuesday morning, after waking at 4:00am in anticipation of my first PT visit, I arrived 10 minutes early for my 7:45am scheduled initial consultation. I was so early, I got a parking spot right by the front door of the facility. As I reached for the handle to enter out of the morning cold, the door was locked. Not a good start. After a quick call to my wife verifying that I was at the correct place on the correct day at the correct time, I limped around in the blistering, cold wind to the back entrance. It was open! "How bizarre," I thought. "They really only want clever, resourceful patients who are resolute and tenaciously determined about their recovery to come to this place. Patients with reassuring, comforting wives." Luckily for me, I met the qualifications and I entered the building with confusion, apprehension, and hope.

As I signed it at the vacant desk in the totally empty, wide-open room, I saw an attendant way down the hall unlocking the front door. I could see my car beyond her. "Dang! If only I was on time, I wouldn't have had to walk so far," I thought. Oh well, being early has always been a character flaw of mine. As I wondered if I was going to be billed for the extra "therapy" I had to go through just walking around the building to get to an open door, I heard a female's voice say, "You must be the early bird." Her tone was pleasant enough, but I almost felt insulted, like I wasn't really supposed to be there and that they were being put out. "I'm Kevin Korpi, and it's not really that early for me," I said in the most cheerful defensive tone I could muster.

It turns out that she really was a very friendly person, the admissions officer. She offered me some coffee and a magazine as I waited for my therapist to arrive at 8:00am. I had already had a whole pot that morning, so I accepted the magazine and just a single cup of coffee. Monica, my therapist, shortly arrived and carefully, methodically, and thoroughly assessed my flexibility, balance, range of motion, strength, and pain tolerance. As a person who appreciates people who are professionals who take pride in their work, especially with a kind heart and good sense of humor (who doesn't?), I slowly let my guard down and began to think that this time it would work out.

She made very simple adjustments to all the exercises I was already doing in order to further isolate muscles to make the exercises more effective, from body positioning to simple reordering of the sequence of exercises. I felt a tremendous improvement immediately. Who ever knew that leg lifts could be so, so . . . . uplifting!!! The hour went by quickly, and soon I was talking to the friendly, professional, good-humored receptionist sipping another cup of coffee scheduling my subsequent appointments for the next 4 weeks. She even printed out my appointments for me on a calendar print-out, showing the exact date, day of the week, and time, three very essential pieces of information. I could easily tell at a glance when I was supposed to be where (not that I was any more clear on which door to use.) After my last experience, I was just so impressed with the whole, friendly, logical transaction.

Since then, I've been back twice, and have only become more impressed with the facilities and equipment available, the staff, but especially my therapist. She really knows what she's doing. Not that my other therapists were insensitive, but Monica really seems to care whether I not I get better and back to normal. Others in the past seem like they were just going through motions while I went through mine, watching the clock instead of watching the stopwatch. I have to ask so few questions because she volunteers so much good information regularly. As a result, I have more confidence in her, which means I have more confidence in myself and my ability to make a full recovery. Who knew I could like someone who does nothing but inflict pain on me--when she kneads my quad muscles, it's like torture!! Good thing she reminds me to breathe.

I still have a long, long way to go, but I'm making great progress everyday now with the sessions and the office and the improved home exercises I'm doing. Why just today, I improved from a maximum of a 72 degree leg bend to a 92 degree bend! Sure it wore me out and was very painful doing the squat exercise, and I know for sure tomorrow morning I will have lost a lot of that gained flexibility, but that's OK.

This is good pain for once, and the harder I work, especially under the guidance of someone I finally trust and respect, the quicker I'll be back to my old self: cliff diving, running marathons, and jumping off monkey bars!!

Just kidding. No more marathons.

What time is it?????

Growing up in school, we had our homeroom classes where attendance was taken, report cards were given out, and the pledge of allegiance was recited. There was no grade given in homeroom, nor was anything really taught. It was simply a short block of time during the day in which the requisite administrative tasks of the day were carried out. This is why we as students loved homeroom--we didn't have to do anything. It wasn't "milk" time, it wasn't "nap" time, and it wasn't even recess. It was just a place where we had our "cubby hole" and kept our big chief tablet and crayons.

As we got older and progressed through the sequence of grade levels, homeroom disappeared about the same time it became unnecessary to keep a careful list of which students preferred white milk or chocolate during the break. Eventually, we pledged allegiance in 1st period, whether it was our math class or gym. We got our report cards during social studies (unless they were mailed home) and "cubby holes" became lockers that were difficult to open even with the correct combination.

But WHY did such a logical, effective concept as homeroom ever go away? I don't think is was to make the students happy. Likely, it was because as students get older, especially in groups of 20 or more, they become increasingly difficult to control in an environment where there is nothing to do with no grade attached to it. Also, the shift in curriculum gradually sways from character education and teaching social norms to actual academics, and getting rid of homeroom means more time for students to spend in the classroom learning readin', 'ritin', and 'rithmetic (but not spelin'.) Makes sense to me.

Well, the past few years, our high school has brought the homeroom concept to teenagers and young adults, clever disguised as "Unicorn Time," or "UT," as the Aggies are loathe to call it. Originally structured as a 20 minute block of time in the morning to take care of all administrative tasks, which included and were limited to announcements and handing out progress reports, activities that absorbed only a paltry 30% of the allotted time (32% if you also take into account taking attendance), many teachers were left with 15 minutes daily with a room full of kids where we were encouraged and verbally rallied to do something "constructive" with our students. We teachers had a blank check to do anything we wanted for 1 hour and 15 minutes a week with our students (could we even call them that?) Frantically searching websites and books for "babysitting activities," some teachers came up with some great time-filling activities. Many did not.

Over time, many suggestions were made, and some even mandated as to what to do with that block of time: peer tutoring, study hall, TAKS remediation, watch Sportscenter, and "heads-up 7-up." Everything worked for a while, but it also quickly grew old for teachers and students alike. Everyone found themselves eagerly looking forward to report card day, just so there would be something to do. You've never seen so many students and teachers so excited when the class ring salesmen is on campus giving short presentations during "UT" time (yes, people call it "UT" time, which is short for "Unicorn Time time.") Additionally, it seemed like really good ideas and uses for that time were never in place from day one, but rather experimental ideas came and went throughout the year, each with the fervent energy of the anticipation of the best and final solution. These things, too, came and went as fast as a Texas winter.

In my UT class, I have always gone out my way to be engaging and entertaining (which is why I make such an excellent baby sitter and fun dad.) Regardless of the current stipulated mandate (currently, it is the "Drop Everything And Read" or D.E.A.R. initiative, whereby every students reads for 15 minutes every Tuesday and Thursday) I have always tried to teach my UT kids something new each and everyday, whether it was a cool math trick or fact, something from current events, sharing a good poem, looking at famous artwork on the internet (at least the ones not blocked by the district's internet filter--sorry "Venus De Milo," tell "David" hi if you see him.) Doing this not only helps the time go by faster, but it helps us develop a mutual respect for each other. In essence, it makes them my students and not just my subjects. When the time actually does come to "reel them in" and make them read silently for 15 minutes, or watch TAKS lessons on the closed-circuit television, it's much easier to get them to do this without having to resort to verbal abuse and idle threats.

Right now, I'm giving out "fake" grades at the end of the D.E.A.R. sessions, awarding 100s to students who stayed on task the whole time, and 200s to anyone who was actually reading and not just staring quietly at pages while there mind is at recess.

I just look forward to the day when the D.R.E.A.M. initiative goes into effect, then everyone will be Dropping Reading & Everything (idleness, boredom, horseplay, . . . .) And "Mathing", or at least feigning it. With an Acronym like that, it's sure to work.