We're Moving - It's the Transition To Another Year of Blogging - This Time with 2020 Vision

https://calendriccrandall2020.blogspot.com

It's my traditional good-bye to one year and welcoming to another. As I put together the 2019 montage, I realized that it truly was a chrysalis-sort-of year, where my Louisville, Syracuse and Connecticut life have come together to produce what it was meant to be - a fusion of Brown School, family, mentorship, a PhD in Literacy and the influence of so many on my world. I am, because we are. The video is proof of it.

And so we're on another calendar and for this reason, a simple one, I thought it best to have bring Calendric Crandall to a 20/20 vision for the 13th year of blogging. At this point, writing each night before I go to bed so a posting will be ready in the morning is sort of like brushing my teeth and breathing - it's a habitual way of staying alive.

There was much that was exceptional in 2019 in both good and bad ways. The good is that I was introduced to a number of new people through speaking engagements and experiences. The bad is that human beings continue to be what human beings are. I try to choose good and a belief in love. I work daily to rid the anger and hatred that is so evident in so many. I prefer a calmer life.

So, I'm thinking about the year that just was, and making a top-twelve list for what was most influential and enlightening to my world (one for every month on the calendar - get it? Calendric Crandall?).

• In January, One Book/One Town was announced and I was finally given permission to blabber the fact that Harbor Me and The Day You Begin were chosen as a community read.
• In February, Abu, Allison Fallon, and I went to NCTEAR to present work on #PensInTheHandsofWriters (sadly, Beth Boquet fell ill). We went to share our thinking, but left stunned and educated by the hard work of Tonya Perry and her people in Alabama - an amazing experience that will be remembered forever.
• In March, I traveled to a TESOL conference for the first time where I presented on Ubuntu Academy and work with refugee youth during an invitational panel - met many academic heroes there.
• Ah, the Laurie Halse Anderson event! 
• My Adirondack Chairs and Discovering Scary Pockets (Thanks, Leo)
• Visiting Susan James in Pensacola and meeting her writing project site.
• Another successful summer institute in CT.
• Celebrating the life of Aunt/Cousin Joni
• Presenting The Superpower of Hope as a keynote address.
• Recognition by the Coalition of Community Writing for Ubuntu Academy
• 10th Year of Writing Our Lives Work - Woot Woot!
• And the 1st Crandall sibling turns 50...Congratulations, Ballz!

As I scrambled through the cocoon of last year, I realized MUCH happened (probably too much) and I haven't really take the time to process it all. Perhaps that's why this year, 2020, I'm hoping to harness the vision a little more effectively. 

Here's to the year. I look forward to every second of it! 

Back at Home, With Friends, With Calm, and With Hopes for a Wonderful New Year

Casey ordered two shirts that she didn't want, so snuck them in a bag of my Christmas goods and I thought, "Hmm, these would be great Bert and Ernie outfits for Halloween." I tested them out on Glamis and her best friend, Jake, who spent the day together on Walnut Beach to keep out of the cold and rain. The arms were a little too long.

In the morning, I assisted Pam who needed to get a shot in her knee, which I obliged for the payment of an everything bagel egg sandwich. This later turned into a chicken wing lunch and a cheeseburger dinner - let's just say the holiday food consumption hasn't been turned off just yet.

For a period of time, most of CT was without Internet, because the local provider lost its service. This was a bit of a challenge, as most everything we're accustomed to do relies on Internet service. We tried to entertain ourselves with made up games and conversations, but we kept wanting to get online for the next thing. We are addicted. Society has made us this way. We are socially defunct.

And today is the last day of 2019, and I'm excited for a new decade, especially since 20/20 has a ring to it (more to come tomorrow).

It was a great day to sit by a fire, to sip wine, to share holiday tales and to make predictions for the upcoming year. I also drove around trying to finish Educated but I still have 3 hours left. It's so good; I'm looking for excuses to listen more to this book (it's an 11-hour book!)

But today is for crossing i's and dotting t's (intended pun) and for putting a close to the year that just was and the one that is on the horizon.

Happy New Year's Eve, world. I think many of us are looking to a better year.

In Memory of Faye Gage, Founder and Director of @CWPFairfield - a @WritingProject Champion in Each and Every Way.

I was a 40-year old when I first came to Fairfield University - when I was contacted by Faye Gage to report she was delighted I was hired to replace her. She was ready to retire. I still hadn't finished by dissertation, but came to co-direct the summer institute with her, following the rhythm and flow of her grant-writing, teaching, course load, and guidance. 

She was passionate. She was fiery. She was brilliant. And she was dedicated. That first summer, Faye Gage arranged for my writing teaching hero, Kelly Gallagher, to come and visit campus as a guest speaker. I called her to ask what  the charge would be and she responded, "Charge? There's no charge for you. You are in charge. You're the Director." I bit my cheek. I guess I was. And I pretended I knew what I was doing, but I'm not sure I did. 

All I knew was that Faye was gracious and the National Writing Project way was my way - the best investment in teacher leaders in the nation. Faye introduced me to the grant officer on campus and quickly shared with me the budgets, which took a hit at the time as states and the nation were defunding educational programs. In order to survive, ingenuity was a must, including the creation of Young Adult Literacy Labs and mountains of paperwork in hopes of receiving grants. At times, we've been lucky. Other times we have not. 

That first summer, I remember that Gina Forberg hosted an end-of-the-summer ISI party on her back porch and true to the form I learned in Louisville, each and every teacher wrote (or sung)(or performed) a reflection that blew my mind. One wrote an entire song, and another a full-length script she performed. Faye and I were united at that moment forever. The transition occurred quickly and the volume of work snuck up fast. She deserved retirement and I kept her away from any and all that was stressful. Her retirement party filled the Dolan School of Business. She was tremendously loved and for a few years, I was able to work with her during Joel Barlow portfolio scoring in February. I always loved the reunions. I learned, however, that she soon began to face the demons that come with age and relied on reports from others as to how she was doing. 

When I returned to Stratford last night, news came from her good friend Del (an incredible partner during the summer for numerous years) that Faye passed on December 27th. I'm deeply saddened by this news. I found the last letter she wrote for CWP-Fairfield and I share it today to cherish her memory, numerous contributions and dedication to the profession. She will be greatly missed. 

Letter from Faye Gage 

As has been said by so many teacher/consultants, the Connecticut Writing Project-Fairfield is a life changing experience in profound ways. Back in 1986, I thought I was a pretty good English teacher – or maybe even very good if a particular class had gone well. I made sure that all of my students read, analyzed and appreciated the great literature that had nurtured my soul for so many years. I counted on those many literary quotations I had incorporated into my repertoire to guide me through many real life situations, some wonderful and some daunting. And I still rely on them. But CWP helped me realize that students who are given tools to access literature can find those gems themselves.  

My experience with CWP taught me that it mattered greatly how the literature was delivered – which required a new understanding of how students learned, a different philosophy of literacy. After much reading, considering, discussing, and a few missteps, I relinquished the sage-on-the-stage role and gradually learned to respect the thinking of even the most inexperienced readers as they began to make their own meaning of texts. The movement from assigning five paragraph essays to writing that explored, considered, chased down ideas changed my understanding of writing and my instructions to my students, a shift that empowered their responses to texts but also showed them how to nurture their thinking. In short, CWP made me a far better teacher.  

Underneath this shift in my teaching, was another less satisfying shift. Twenty five years of administration of this program has left me increasingly uncertain that public education has the wise and generous supporters it so badly needs. I have become more and more outraged over the professed and unprofessed enemies of education. They are legion. They withhold institutional support or provide only minimally; they talk a lot in government babble but barely seek out funds for what should be robustly supported; they too frequently make decisions that are not in the best interests of either teachers or students and they demonize teachers rather than provide funds to nurture and support the best. I have a number of dents from encounters with such folks. 

Rather than expound on this problem, I would prefer to thank the people who have been exceptions: Senator Bob Duff who has been consistently loyal and intelligently informed; Representative Jim Himes, a new, enthusiastic supporter; Dean Susan Franzosa who made CWP integral to the University; and the many public school administrators who have sought our professional development services to improve teaching and learning in their buildings. They, and many others, believe in CWP. Like so many of you, however, the most important change in my life was brought about by the people who make up the membership of CWP. Every Summer Institute introduced me to teachers who are committed to their students, thoughtful about their work, and eager to collaborate with each other. Their participation is the life blood of CWP. They also make the lives of their students richer and promising. Their effect on me was equally life changing. They are a rare group of professionals whose wisdom and support I will carry with me. 

As will the influence of people who took leadership roles in CWP. I cannot name them all, but I know that Del Shortliffe, Lynn Winslow, Bill McCarthy, Bob Wilson, Betsy Bowen, Kathy Brody, Kristin Veneema, Jack Powers, John Chiappetta, Andy Neidick - all people with whom I worked closely - gave me knowledge, inspiration and unyielding support. They have been my professional family whose imprint on my life is deep and secure. 

I will miss being the Director of CWP-Fairfield, but I carry with me twenty five years of experiences that changed and enriched me. I am overwhelmingly grateful for having spent the time with all of you.~Faye 

I know many of us are extremely thankful to the legacy of Faye Gage and the fight she took on to bring CWP-Fairfield to where it was when the reigns were handed over to me. I post these thoughts today in her memory and with tremendous prayer that her incredible wit, mind and strength will watch over us as our battle for excellence continues.

Angry That Today Is My Departure Day, But Not as Angry as The Angry Garlic in Baldwinsville. That Was a Fast Week

I've found the faces I've been making with thoughts that the holiday week was coming to an end so quickly.

Yesterday was Cynderballz's birthday and one gift certificate later, a fun time at Hafners, and a gathering for food and spirits one last time with friends and family, means that today is the day I go back to Mt. Pleasant. Time to return and face the music of Connecticut - including too much that I successfully ignored while I was visiting my parents.

Arrival, Birthday, a savior is born, Birthday, Departure.

Actually, I'm thinking I'll have a slow morning, as I can try to get a run in before driving and maybe even a walk with the dog. When I arrived there was a blanket of snow on the ground and lucky for me the hot temperatures of Syracuse, 45 degrees, melted all that away. Now it is green grass again, but the storms are expected to return.

Phew. Marking myself a survivor of another Christmas break on Amalfi Drive.

Now, for Glamis the Wonder Dog's neurotic road trip home.

World's Sexiest Couple Only Have Two More Nights Left with Their Only Son at Home & Yee Haw, It's Cynderballz's 50th!

I've grown accustom to the pajama-lifestyle of 5388 Amalfi Drive where  coffee is drunk and dad reports who is walking down the street before the mailman actually arrives. That is why I was taken by surprise when my parents both came out in holiday sweaters on a Friday morning announcing to me, "Well, we're off to our doctor's appointments." I said, "You want me to drive," and they said, "Nope. We got this."

Okay. Let me get their picture then...looking sexy before I even hit my bowl of Raisin Bran. They get check-ups and I go for a run.

I only had one thing on my mind - seeing Star Wars with Casey, Dave, Chitunga, Dylan and the boys, which I did. I'm satisfied, even though my neck is super sore from staining to see the screen - we were way up front. Ah, but it was good, so I didn't mind. I'm always up for eye candy and epic stories. I loved every second of it. I'm a sucker for the series.

But yippee-kai-yay! Today is Cynderballz's day...the first of the Crandall kids to hit the big FIVE - UH - OH. Fifty Fifty Fifty Fifty Fifty Fifty Fifty Fifty.

Yee-Haw. It's older-sister-celebration day! It's also U of L vs. UK basketball day. It's daughter day and mommy day and aunt day and wife day.

Nikki says we're going to start with shots at 7 a.m., but I said, "Not me. I can't do shots until after I wake up...I need until 10 a.m. before I can do birthday shots with my older sister.

Maybe it will turn into The Hangover movie for her - where the shots she does all day erases all memory of what actually happened to her. Who has the roofies and who is going to slip her one? How do we get her performing "I feel pretty, oh so pretty," while she eats a pizza upside down and tip toes on the edge of a water bed (again)?

Seriously, it began with mom's birthday and ends with Cynde's. In between, a savior was born.

Let the day begin.

I've Been Home Seven Days, And It Was Only Last Night That My Father Talked Me Into Going to Chubby's

We were the only ones there besides the employees. We got our drinks and, after dinner, my father felt the need to order fried mushrooms - no idea why. He ate them, and I sipped bourbon while the bartender played Quick Draw. It's been a week. I feel complete withdrawal that it took this long to be invited to Chubby's. The wait was worth every second.

Meanwhile. I spent the day working on 2020 and getting projects started that are going to be awaiting me Sunday when I return to Connecticut. Mike and I created a safety net for my parents' new television, and I put in the new floor mats that Chitunga bought my Subaru.

Glamis and I walked. I ran. I organized the gifts on a living room chair to return back to the Nutmeg State. I grilled up green beans to go with the leftovers and Butch introduced me to every Price Chopper employee as we went together to get a container of orange juice. We did his rounds after we visited Walmart to get a new belt.

It was an event-filled day.

And now it is Friday. Here we go. Phew.

Saying Goodbye To the Holiday Events and Bringing on Transitions to 2020 (Let the Family Rest in Happiness)

After Cynde and I walked the dogs last night (Bella - now that is a tricky dog to walk) we turned around and saw a beautiful CNY sky. I ran inside to get my [phone so I could get a shot from Amalfi Drive with my father's lighted deer and, well, this is what I got.

We had a successful brunch, that was digested and then I ran, followed by a walk with Cynde and then began an evening of teaching my mom and dad to use their new Smart television to access the internet and to watch videos. Let's just say we watch 3 hours of drum and bugle shows from the 1960s and a just as many winter guard shows from the 80s on. Mom is now able to control YouTube from her iPad (if she remembers in the morning I will be shocked) and it brought smiles and tears to them as they went down memory lane.

Of course, we also listened to 5 renditions of Barbara Streisand and Neil Diamond's You Don't Bring Me Flowers, as mom looked for a video she wanted to show my father. They also found Bob Hope shows which was funny, because they were sponsored by RCA televisions - the kind that you stood up to as you turned the channel from your antennae. "They've only just begun / to live," sand the Carpenters as the opener began with a clarinet soloist. It's sort of nostalgic and fun, as this generation had to move fast to the changing technologies as everything moved so fast, but now all the old shows can be found on her iPad and projected onto their 40 inch screen. Perhaps I created a monster - only time will tell.

Meanwhile, the Isgars and the Barnwells were a barrel of fun (as the photo on the right demonstrates). They were tired, after all - it's a lot of work eating, drinking, and opening presents. Good thing Casey and Dave have comfortable furniture. This was good, too, for the boys who were playing their new video games (making me jealous for the days of Super Mario Brother with Casey and the Oreo Cookies and Drink Boxes).

Then mom moved onto Adam Lambert, her crush, and made dad and I watch another hours of YouTube videos.

I'm afraid a monster has been created. The real test, however, will be if she can remember how to do it in the morning when a new sunrise arrives.

Absolutely amazing that another round of holiday shenanigans have found themselves to yesterday's memory. I can see why the Isgars chose sleep.