Shake It Up, Baby

As I sit here watching "American Idol," it's hard not to think about what a gift it is to be able to sing well. I'm not saying this in a conceited way. I know that I was lucky to be born with a sense of pitch and a set of vocal chords that vibrate in a way that I've been told is generally pleasant to hear.

I've also been lucky enough to share a broad variety of vocal experiences with some great musicians, from jazz choir and "Hello Dolly" in high school, to the Old Gold Singers and a one-hit (one song, actually) acapella quartet at the University of Iowa, to my church choir and a couple different variations on a gospel vocal group. I've performed on stage at Hancher Auditorium in Iowa City and  on the Riley Stage at the Iowa State Fair. I sang the national anthem at an Iowa Cubs game in Principal Park, where I learned that singers and baseball managers have different standards for judging a vocal performance. "Great job," I was told as I walked past the home dugout on my way back to my seat. I was feeling pretty good about myself until he pointed to his watch and said, "One minute, 29 seconds. Perfect."

With the gospel quartet Bound4Him, I was part of three recording projects, but my real recording bragging rights come from singing backup on "Kansas City/Hey Hey Hey" on Paul McCartney's Paul is Live album. (In the interests of full disclosure, I should probably mention that at the time, I was sitting in the third row from the top in Arrowhead Stadium, and there were 60,000 other people singing along, but that song from that concert is on album, so I'm sticking to my claim that I sang backup on a McCartney album.)

Until today, however, I had never gotten the opportunity to sing and play guitar in a rock band. Let me tell you, if you ever have a chance to get together with a few of your friends, a few instruments, some amps, and an auditorium of screaming kids, I highly recommend it. From the time we kicked off "Twist and Shout" with lead in notes from eighth grade band director Ted Heggen's Hofner bass until we hit the final chord, it was an absolute rush. I know my guitar playing was far from polished, but (and I say this with no small amount of pride), I nailed John Lennon's scream at the end of the instrumental bridge.

It was a great way to spend a couple of hours at school, and I got to see some truly talented Southeast Polk Junior High students as well. All in all, the best way to sum it all up would probably be the last line in the email I sent out to my bandmates at the end of the day: When's the next gig, and what are we playing?

In Support of Southeast Polk's Ag Department

The following is an email I sent out to my colleagues today in support of Southeast Polk High School's Agricultural Education program. I truly believe that our ag ed program is what education should be all about.


To my 8th grade colleagues,

With your Advisory materials this week, you received a letter from Southeast Polk FFA President Brett Timmins about the ag ed presentation this Friday during Advisory. I would like to encourage you to promote this presentation to your students because of how beneficial FFA and agricultural education have been for Brett.

Brett signed up for an ag class and joined FFA as a freshman mainly so she could show in the Iowa State Fair FFA swine show, but she got much more from her Southeast Polk ag experience than just the opportunity to show her pigs. FFA has taught her invaluable leadership, interpersonal, speaking and critical thinking skills. She has become a better student and a more confident young woman through her classes, through FFA competitions, and through experiences like the FFA National Convention and the Washington Leadership Conference. She has learned a lot about not only agricultural economics, but also her own personal finances through her supervised agricultural experiences (SAE).

Over winter break, Brett received her acceptance letter from Iowa State University (yes, I know, but it's OK), where she is going to become an ag teacher and FFA adviser. I couldn't be prouder than I am as the father of a Cyclone (no, seriously, I mean it), and I couldn't be more grateful to Matt Eddy  and the Southeast Polk ag ed program for what they have done for my daughter.

Rob 2.0

Time may change me, but I can't trace time.

--David Bowie

"Changes"

Teaching Computer Applications is my second teaching career. As I usually tell my students sometime during the first week of class, I am really an English teacher. That's what my degree from the University of Iowa and my teaching license say, anyway. It's what I taught for the first 10 years of my career, starting at Stuart-Menlo High School where I was the English department for grades 10-12 for a year, then at Valley High School in West Des Moines for five years, and finally for four years at Southeast Polk Junior High.

When I had an opportunity to switch to computers, I jumped at it. I was ready for something new and different, and to be honest, the subject matter in junior high English classes isn't nearly as interesting as Creative Writing and Modern American Lit, my favorite classes to teach at Valley.

Strangely enough, even though I like the subject matter of high school English better than junior high English, I learned that I enjoyed teaching seventh graders more than teaching high school students. Junior high students, especially seventh graders, still have an innocence about them, even when they are acting like hormones with feet. I can't imagine walking into a class of juniors wearing the headphones from their computers, pretending to be airline pilots, but I have done just that with my seventh graders.

From time to time, someone will ask me if I will ever go back to teaching English. The answer is maybe, but if I do, it will be as a high school teacher. For now, however, I'm having fun spending my day with seventh graders, so I don't plan on making that change anytime in the near future.

Snow Days

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep. 

--Robert Frost

"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"

Brett's been discouraged lately by the thought that we might get through this school year without any snow days. She's a senior, so she wouldn't have to make them up at the end of the school year, and she is convinced that the stars or fate or karma or the Channel 13 First Alert Weather Team has conspired with Mother Nature to make sure that she puts in every single day of class on this year's Southeast Polk calendar.

It's funny how different people react to snow days. I'm sure for many, snow days are a pain, an obstacle to whatever work needs to be done. I know I have colleagues who hate them, since every day we take off for weather from November through April has to be made up at the end of May, or even the beginning of June if we have enough of them. I can understand their objections. At face value, it does seem better to be out of school on a warm, sunny spring day than when the hounds of winter are howling outside.

Still, I love snow days. At our house, they tend to be lazy, relaxing days when we hang out in our pajamas, watch movies and play games together. Snow days bring with them the aroma of chili or chicken noodle soup in the crock pot, and the comfort of an afternoon nap in the recliner. So often, our lives seem incredibly rushed during the week as we go from school and work to chores to other activities. Snow days are the opposite: things seem to go in slow-motion as we slow down and enjoy as a family the fact that the weather is more powerful than the Google calendar.

So tomorrow morning, when my alarm goes off at 5:30, I will start my day off like I'm sure many of my students will, by turning on the TV and checking the messages on my phone in hopes of seeing those magical words: Southeast Polk Closed.