In my neck of the woods (Portland, Oregon) there has been some media attention paid recently to a terrible new development inside elementary school classrooms: violently disruptive children. The problem is exacerbated by an interpretation of State Law that says that a teacher can never touch a student unless that student is in imminent danger.Continue reading “Diary of an English Teacher in His Penultimate Year, Redux: Kids These Days”
Author Archives: michaeljarmer
Diary of an English Teacher in His Penultimate Year, Redux: We Should Be Angry Most of the Time, But for Some Reason. . .
There are things that should infuriate public school teachers about our jobs. Here’s just one: It is an impossible gig; to wit, there is not enough time in the work day to do the job we have been asked to do, or rather, the job that we would like to do, the job that weContinue reading “Diary of an English Teacher in His Penultimate Year, Redux: We Should Be Angry Most of the Time, But for Some Reason. . .”
Mindfulness in 2018: A Reflection
My meditation stats were stunning in 2018, comparatively, that is. Here’s the snapshot: one hundred and seventy-one consecutive days on the cushion as compared to one hundred and twenty four days the previous year. That’s an improvement of almost an entire two month’s worth of meditation on a cushion. However, I must confess that myContinue reading “Mindfulness in 2018: A Reflection”
#317: On Not Being Able to Remember a Student’s Name
She sat right in front of me, in the first row, as it were, and I called her by name, the wrong name. She looked at me. She said, “Who?” And I thought, and maybe I said out loud, “Oh my god.” And even while I knew it was the wrong name, for the lifeContinue reading “#317: On Not Being Able to Remember a Student’s Name”
Stuff, Stuff, Stuff; the Excavation and Removal (?) of Stuff; Holding On To or Letting Go of the Record of Me
A burst pipe (circa 1930) in the basement necessitates the removal of 40 some years of accumulated stuff buried in a storage closet we fondly refer to as “the scary room.” There’s a bunch of shit in there, we know, that needs to go, stuff that’s doing no one any good. Now that we’ve hadContinue reading “Stuff, Stuff, Stuff; the Excavation and Removal (?) of Stuff; Holding On To or Letting Go of the Record of Me”
Diary of an English Teacher in His Penultimate Year, Redux: When is a Frog Just a Frog?
So the school year, thus far, is cooking right along. I like my 9th graders. And that’s no little thing to say. For the most part, they are positive, respectful, willing, and mostly ready for prime time. There are some exceptions, of course, as always, and, of the three groups of 9th graders in myContinue reading “Diary of an English Teacher in His Penultimate Year, Redux: When is a Frog Just a Frog?”
Diary of an English Teacher in His Penultimate Year, Redux: Michael Reads Rumi
Here we go. Another shot at the video blog. This little thing has little to offer in the way of “diary” and nothing to do with an English teacher’s penultimate year, but I found this Rumi poem that I just had to read. Took a few takes at this, the first time through, wrestling withContinue reading “Diary of an English Teacher in His Penultimate Year, Redux: Michael Reads Rumi”
Diary of an English Teacher in His Penultimate Year, Redux: It’s Raining and I’m Flying By the Seat of My Pants!
Yesterday I made a video blog so I could test my new microphone, and during part of my little talk there I kind of bemoaned the fact that it had been so long since my last entry, months, in fact. Afterwards, I was struck by this single observation: It took me three and a halfContinue reading “Diary of an English Teacher in His Penultimate Year, Redux: It’s Raining and I’m Flying By the Seat of My Pants!”
Michael Tests the Mic
So, I got a new USB microphone. It’s the Yeti Pro from Blue Designs, and it’s pretty much the inspiration for this, the first blog entry I’ve made since July. Sorry that I’ve been so long away. I hope you missed me just a little. I decided to shoot a video and I talk hereContinue reading “Michael Tests the Mic”
Dispatches from Writer’s Camp: Dance Like No One Is Watching
I’m a musician, a drummer primarily, but when I was younger I was a lead singer fronting the band, and when I sang, I would bust a bunch of moves. Outside of this, I never danced publicly, thought it was dorky, beneath me somehow, until, at 33 years old, I had my first residency atContinue reading “Dispatches from Writer’s Camp: Dance Like No One Is Watching”
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