So I wanna write a novel

November is National Novel Writing Month. The idea is to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days (!).

So, naturally, I've decided to do it. What a way to close the second to last month of the year - with writing a novel.

You can read it, as it progresses, here.

Check it out. Starting Monday, November 1st, through the end of November. I can't guarantee quality, or even cogency. In fact, I really shouldn't guarantee anything. Just check it out.

Fighting "intertia"

intertia - noun

Definition: the inertia that is inside us, hence "inter"tia

Credit goes to me for making it up via a typo, and to Mark for recognizing its innate brilliance.

The context:
markmanasse: we need to get cracking on the eating contest
markmanasse: if that is going to happen this year
darron_evans: yes
markmanasse: it's really just setting things in motion
markmanasse: they way I have it figured
darron_evans: just overcoming intertia
darron_evans: inertia, rather
markmanasse: intertia I like
markmanasse: it is like
markmanasse: inside
markmanasse: ertia
darron_evans: yeah! that's cool. i just invented a word.
darron_evans: intertia
markmanasse: ha
darron_evans: the inertia inside us: intertia
markmanasse: hahhahahahah

The Perfect School

California holds all public schools accountable based on something called the API - the Academic Performance Index. It's a number that the state derives from results on tests given to students starting in 2nd grade. For grades 2 through 8, those tests are based on math and language arts. Part of the test is directly based on the state content standards, and part of the test is a nationally normed standardized test. That sounds kinda weird - the part based on the standards is not standardized! And the part that IS standardized isn't based on the standards! Such is the beauty of the politics of California education.

So my school's in trouble with California for not making any improvement in our API this past school year. The previous school year we were in the Top 10 in the entire county in improvement, but we flatlined last year - no loss, no gain.

California has a goal that all schools be at or above 800 on the API. My school is at a 593. Two schools have now achieved a perfect 1000. What wondrous reforms have these schools made? Surely these schools must be paragons of educational rectitude.

I've come to the belief that schools and classrooms ought to, as best they can, reflect the kind of wider society we wish to create. And so the following article just makes me shake my head in disbelief. This, based on the API, is the perfect school???

Click here to read the article.

Going blind

I went on a very fun double blind date on Friday. I've never done that before, but of course, this being my year and all, I'm trying a lot of new things. I'd write about it, the date that is, except the ladies might read it and that would ruin any mystery.

Back when 2004 was just a babe, Mark and I made a pact that this would be our year. History may very well judge it that way.

Because of this pact, I've taken more initiative to do things than I normally have, resulting in the following: I spent 2 weeks traveling around Guatemala, I bought a new computer with a DVD burner and finally made a class video yearbook like I've wanted to for 4 years, I became the co-best IMer in the entire nation and had my 1,080 minutes of fame, I spent a week in Maui, I took a lesson in how to drive stick so I could buy a new car with a manual transmission, I improved my Spanish skills by finally taking a class like I've been talking about for 6 years, and I'm learning how to play the guitar... to name a few.

I wanted to record a few of those things while they were still fresh in my mind.

Size matters

Ok, so my last blog wasn't so popular. My actual readership has been laid bare for all to see. How embarrassing. So my mom, a few of my friends, some people who know me from the Yahoo! IM Live contest, and an occasional random person tune in now and then to see what's going on in my "life." And sometimes not even them.

But who needs fame? In my classroom, I'm quite famous. Although lately I've had to adopt Machiavelli's "it is greater to be feared than loved" ideology to keep things moving.

One of my original motivations behind buying prez2012.com was to give some insight into what it's like to be a teacher, so maybe I'll make that the theme of the next few blogs. Maybe...

Consider: I have 50 students. Just imagine having to do anything 50 times. Well, yes, ok, there are a few things I can think of that, when done 50 times, wouldn't be so bad. But imagine grading the same test 50 times, filling out report cards 50 times, scheduling 50 parent-teacher conferences, bugging 50 kids to have their homework done every day, etc. When I make copies, I make 52 (just in case).

Consider the student work I go through for informal assessments. Stored in my classroom there are 50 writer's notebooks, 50 interactive journals, 50 math/science notebooks, 50 writer's workshop folders, and 50 language/word study notebooks, 50 word study folders, and 50 poetry journals.

We have a formal reading assessment. Each kid gets tested twice a year. The average time for each test: about 30 minutes. So that's 50 kids, 30 minutes per test, twice a year. I have to give that reading test 100 times. That's 3,000 minutes of my life giving that test, just this year.

We took a math test on Friday. Grading each test will take a relatively brisk 3 minutes. That's 3 x 50 = 150 minutes or 2 hours and 30 minutes of mind numbing grading, the same thing over and over and over and over again. I also write letters to each class every week. That's 25 letters. Each letter takes about 5 minutes or 5 x 25 =125 minutes or 2 hours and 5 minutes to write those letters. Every week.

So now try and tell me class size doesn't matter.

Alarm? What alarm?

My normal wake-up time is around 6:00. Absolutely-must-get-up time is 6:30. But this morning I'm lying in bed with my eyes closed, just daydreaming (morningdreaming?) when I realize that I've been in a semi-awake state of consciousness for quite some time and maybe my alarm should have gone off by now. My eyes snap open and, sure enough, my clock says 7:39 (which, in real time, is 7:29; I'm one of those people that sets my clocks ahead).

So normally I'm out of the house at 7:30. Instead, I'm just stepping into the shower. And yet somehow, after a Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday of extremely frustrating teaching experiences, this hurried way of starting the day transitioned into a very productive, positive day with both of my classes. Go figure.

On another topic, I'm asking that you, my gentle readers, submit your ideas for 3 photos you'd like to see on my blog. I mean photos that I would take, not just random photos off the internet. Like, for example, a photo of the receipt for toothbrush replacements that's been sitting on the top of my toilet for the last two years. Or a photo of the guy in my guitar class who forgot to bring his guitar to class TWICE. It's an idea I got from the blogger home page. Sounds like fun to me. So click on comments and post your ideas. I'll pick the most interesting (and possible) ones and snap away.

Better is better

One of my students last week said something rather profound, I think. She was trying to remember something we had said at our 5th grade retreat about a month ago about working together. "Working together is always better" was the phrase we had repeated during my session of the retreat about teamwork, but as she struggled to remember it, what came out of her mouth instead was, "Better is better." And ain't that the truth.

So what's better than going home at 11:30 on a Saturday night after a day of watching the Angels clinch the American League West, eating at Pick Up Stix, and paying $9.75 to see the now and then ha-ha funny Shaun of the Dead? How about driving to my landlady's house to drop off my rent and then aimlessly driving on the 84 west, almost hitting a deer, crawling through dense fog, and stopping at Apple Jack's in La Honda?

So yeah, I was chillin' with Mark (yes ladies, I'm still single; don't miss this opportunity!). I had a full tank of gas and we had nowhere to be, so driving the long and winding road that is the 84 late at night seemed like a good diversion. It gave me a chance to test out my high beams, my car's handling, and my night vision. 2 out of 3 ain't bad. Turns out I can't see large deer standing in the road. It took Mark's cry of, "It's a deer!!!" for me to notice a 5 foot tall deer standing smack dab in the middle of the road. As we drove by it, I swear I could have stuck my arm out the window and given it a pat on the head. But I did not. That's how close it was.

Our adrenaline levels now higher and my speed now lower, we continued to proceed west (a la Horace Greeley?) and finally ran into civilization in the form of a dive bar named Apple Jack's. Apple Jack's, for me, fit my stereotype of what a real bar should be. It's got its host of regulars, it's got shady characters sitting by themselves in the corners, it's got a pool table, a live band, a rowdy group of folks chewin' the fat outside. Behind the bar, hanging by push pins, are bills of international currency signed by, one would expect, patrons of the past, with an assortment of firemen's helmets. Sitting down on a bar stool, I drank my whiskey sour (thanks Mario) which was mostly whiskey, not so much sour, and took it all in.

The crisp, foresty air, already pregnant with winter, cleared our heads as we left. AJ's was a good ol' time. Maybe we'll be back.