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Some Stories. About Stories.

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  One of my greatest passions and joys is matchmaking between people and the books that will get them reading and speak to their souls. Sharing stories, both real and fictional, is transformative. It’s how we connect to one another. It’s how we travel to places we can’t afford. It’s how we learn about people we’ve yet to meet. It’s how we pass on history. It’s how we explore religion. The universe is made up of atoms and molecules, but it is also built on stories. I don’t believe that there are nonreaders; there are just some people who haven’t met the right book yet. I did not invent this idea, but it is a core philosophy I live by in my classroom and in my life on a daily basis. One of my favorite eligible reader stories was a boy who came into my intervention class with low confidence in his skills and in his ability to grow them and put them to work. He told me on the first day that he was not a reader and would never be one, so I might as well not bother. Ah! I love a good challen
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The Rebound

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  This week, I'm headed for my 13th breakup in 13 years. It will be amicable for sure, but I will still joyfully grieve my way through this week, enjoying all the moments while being fully aware of how bittersweet they are. Just like every other year, I knew from the beginning that this was never meant to be long term. You see, middle school is really the "rebound" relationship of education. Elementary school? They get to be the first love. It's the first relationship these kids have with school. They experience so many things for the first time, and nothing will ever be quite so brand new. They hopefully spend six years of their lives in puppy love and look back on that time with intense fondness and nostalgia. The breakup with the first love is not an easy one, even though they know they've outgrown the relationship. They come to middle school fearful of if they can ever love school as much as they did before, fearful of change, fearful of being lost in the crow
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  This picture is one from the highlight reel. The woman you see in it is coming off of an amazing vacation. She's happy and rested and full of great new memories and sun-kissed skin. She's part of a big happy family. That's all real. What you don't see is the "real" after the picture. This was taken the morning we left Punta Cana after spending a week doing our favorite things with my parents in a gorgeous setting with equally as beautiful weather. We got to focus on our biggest decisions being pool or beach, buffet or sit down dinner, dancing or an early bedtime. On the day we left, I was weepy all morning, and it was easy to justify. Of course I would be sad to leave paradise and my parents. I brushed off the nagging feeling in the back of my head that while I was always blue to leave vacation, this felt a little different. I was happy, and I was fine. Maybe just a bit tired.  We coasted into home that Saturday evening and crashed hard. I got up Sunday morn
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The Weight of our Words

In case you're ever wondering what the rules of etiquette are for talking to a woman about her body or her weight, and especially for those who aren't wondering and think they already know, here are a few tips: 1. Don't. 2. Don't talk about her weight. 3. At all. 4. Unless you are her doctor or trainer or nutritionist... then it might be okay. 5. Otherwise, don't do it. News flash- I'm pregnant. My body is doing the miraculous work of growing a baby, one that I hope and pray is healthy. If she is, she's getting bigger. If she's getting bigger, then I am too. That's the way it works. I can see this in the mirror as I try to find clothes in my closet that will stretch over her for the home stretch. I can feel it in my cankles and my puffy feet through long days of teaching. I notice as I'm trying to sneak through tight spaces but bulldoze instead and as I catch bits of lunch on the bump that might have previously fallen to the floor (talk a
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Role Reversal

"Mrs. Ferri, are you really telling kids that they can't say 'no homo'?" The question took me aback for a minute, just like hearing a few boys casually toss this phrase around my classroom the week before had. I love my middle schoolers dearly and think the world of them, which makes it even more disturbing to hear such ugly things come out of their mouths sometimes. I spent a few nights stewing on this and sent an e-mail to our counseling department to circle back and teach intentionally to these moments. When I started to look through the resources they gave me, the whole thing got bigger for me. What if, I thought, the expository writing we need to practice anyway is timed at a perfect intersection with some real life applicability? What if my students would actually be the better teachers? I spent the weekend putting together a project for my Pre AP students, including the class with the harmful phrase hockey, where they will do the work to teach each othe
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Permission to Fail

I've been wanting to try something with my students for years but have put it off because I was worried that it wouldn't turn out the way I hoped it would. I won't bore you with the details of exactly what it was. I finally realized that I had to try, though, because of one of the biggest lessons I've learned as a teacher: magical things can happen when you give yourself permission to fail. Reminding myself of this lesson makes me work toward going bigger, better, and bolder every time. Sure, we totally crash and burn on "guinea pig" days in class sometimes. Yet, it's all worth it for the grins we get to share on the days when we realize that something is going right. Really right. Awesomely right. I set a personal goal to get my students to the point where I felt that we were ready to try the thing. You know, that thing... from the first paragraph. Little by little, chunk by chunk, we scaffolded and prepared without them even knowing that this t
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The Light Under the Door

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One of the biggest cliches about parenting is also one of the biggest truths: those kids, they grow up so quickly. I'm all too aware of how fleeting time is and how important it is to be fully present in each moment because nothing beyond what's happening right now is ever guaranteed. I remind myself of this every time life gets crazy or every time I'm tempted to start a pity party for myself. I remind myself of this when I worry big time about small things. I especially remind myself of this when I'm spending time with my kids and especially when I feel myself starting to get into the "I'm so busy, life's so crazy" spiral of excuses that prevent me from enjoying life's little moments to the fullest. I hope it is abundantly clear to anyone who knows me just how much I love and adore my kids. They drive me nuts, but I couldn't be any more nuts about them. Each little guy has his own quirks and habits that make him absolutely delightful and d
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