I Mustache Myself a Question. How Excited Am I To Travel to #NCTEAR19 in Birmingham, Alabama?

It was philosophical questioning day (The Phaedrus, Allegory of the Cave) and I came prepared with mustaches for everyone. Why? Because one of my subversive goals is to make learning fun, and I learned years ago that mustaches work to encourage creative questioning. They don the mustaches and ask one another questions they have about schooling experiences:

• I mustache you about your teachers,
• I mustache you about periods in the day
• I mustache you about extra-curricular

It works and everyone gets a kick about the inquiry project and finding open-ended ways to think about education. I'm always thankful when I find the mustaches on sale in packs of 12. It works perfectly for the 24 students enrolled in the course.

I also have to give a shout out to Chitunga for leaving his tie-clips behind when he left for LeMoyne as I swiped this particular one that I wear all the time. He criticized me one time for wearing it too low, so I raised the bar - just for him. It's my happy clip, as I can look down in my professional attire and channel him over my heart (and mind).

This morning, I'm traveling with Allison Fallon (Central Middle School, Greenwich), Dr. Beth Boquet (Fairfield University), and Abu Bility (flying in from Syracuse) to report on findings from a spring/summer project in collaboration with the Fairfield University Art Museum's exhibit: #UNLOAD: Guns in the Hands of Artists. The project offered opportunity to 120 middle school youth, as well as 80 adolescents in CWP summer programs and 14 teachers. Some of the writing was published in POW! Power of Words (5th edition) which should be on our campus next week.

We are presenting our work with Pens in the Hands of Writers. It will be a reunion, too, as it's hosted my National Writing Project Director, extraordinaire, Tonya Perry, and my mentor, Dr. Marcelle Haddix, as well as doctoral friends, Keith Newvine and Sarah Fleming. I am looking forward to the joy the conference will present (and the grading that will occur in my uncomfortable airline seat).

Here's to the experience!

Reflecting on the K-12 Experience...Seems So Long Ago, But Undergraduates (It's a Little Closer - They Got This)

There's a lot going on today in ED 329: Philosophical Foundations of Education, including a preview of the next assignment - writing an educational autobiography. Anyone who has ever gone to school can do one, but I'm curious about how one can 'interrogate' the education they've received (to be celebratory and critical, at the same time, by who was allowed to benefit from the education and who was not).

It's funny, once upon a time my sisters and I used to go through my parents' yearbooks asking questions and laughing at how old everyone looked. We learned of my mother's distaste for her gym classes and my father's break-ins to the school as a mischievous learner. The haircuts were hilarious and the love triangles ubiquitous. In some ways, their stories grounded us for our own.

In fact, last night Vickie Weston contacted me (as Syracuse was playing Florida State) and we once again tripped backwards to 1985-1990 when we were NSJH Nighthawks and CNS Northstars. In short, we created our own memories and did school because we were supposed to and, I doubt, we ever questioned the education we received. Instead, we had our 3 floors, sprinted from one end of the school to the other to get to class on time, and were part of a tremendous social order (even though we didn't know it). In summary, our education was great - safe, traditional and good enough to move toward the next phase of life. It is hilarious to think back to those times, though, just like it was/is for my parents.

Anyone who graduates can say, "That was yesterday." Try teaching for a living - it all blurs.

As part of the Philosophy class, I'm having my students write their own bibliography, and asking them to question, wonder and think critically about the education they received (and if it was 100% in school - I know I learned so much from working at Great Northern Mall, a good thing, and my 9th grade snowbank fiasco - a bad thing). I also know that I learned so much from my parents and grandparents that was never measured by anything in school.

My thinking is that before a student can think about their philosophy, they need to interrogate the traditions they took for granted.

I always say that I received a solid education, and with aptitude for math and science, I loved my high school experiences. Still, it was classes like Tools for Change and my senior English class (love me some eccentrics) that led me on the path to where I am today.

It's interesting to think about what was valued, normed, regular and routine (like Gordy, the security guard, who yelled when you tried to leave early). Every school has its hidden knowledge and practices (like, I didn't know who my Principal was. Why would why? And yes, I knew who used the theater's prop room for inappropriate activities). Learning transcends what is measured by tests.

Ah, but I remember Regents tests and I was good at them. I especially remember receiving 100s on them because I studied and gamed the routines, and also hearing from the smartest kids in the class, "There's no way you did that well."

Whatever. I never would want to return to high school, but it would be funny to watch a sitcom based on our generation of high schoolers. I always think in terms of my older sister, mesmerized by her friends and their maturity - and laugh now because even if they seemed ancient and sophisticated, they were big-haired idiots like the rest of us. Now, our ages blend.

So, today, we are talking self-studies of educational experiences. I can hardly wait.

And Zoolander is my icon for modeling previous autobiographies from yesteryear. I'm old. I admit it.

Day #24. The Crud Hasn't Left But Has Reformed Itself Into New Territories Making for an Interesting Monday

Oh, if only pure imagination was at the source of the latest phase of this never-ending virus. I'm thankful to the Great Whatever that I made it through the day, but I should have known that when I left this morning, and wanted to go back to bed, that that crazy monster was still running itself through my body. I trekked on, and went into work, and have to say I was really productive, although my body didn't want me to be out of my house.

I'm so rarely tired, so it kills me when I simply want to sleep. I was told I am too old for mono, so it's not that. It simply is this icky, gross, snot-infested, nauseating, cough-hacking, stomach-churning headache creature that doesn't want to leave.

We'll begin / With a spin / Traveling in / The world of my creation / What we'll see / Will defy / explanation.

This defies explanation. Ah, Tuesday. Perhaps this should be a day of rest, but there's too much to accomplish. I may need to stay home simply to grade, to write, to read, and to plan. I might just need to sacrifice a day to sleep.

I need this bugger out of me.

Guiding Their Interests and Fascinated to Be on the Other Side of Educational Research...Pushing Them Forward

When I finished my bachelor's degree in English Literature, I fashioned myself as a researcher. Then, with an MAT, I saw myself as an action sort of guy, putting knowledge into game-play. The M.S. from the Kentucky Institute of Education and Sustainable Development put me back into research land again.

Then I taught for over a decade and guided high school senior projects and their research. We were all active brains who reviewed literature, created a plan to move forward, and took our knowledge to give back to the world in positive ways. I made them write ten-page papers and they hated me for it; but they got through it.

Then the doctorate happened. Yes, and it happened like a plow pushing CNY snow, except for the fact that it pushed even when it was summer. It taught me to fight back like a ram, though, and keeping my horns down, I kept pushing forward as much as I could. Towards the end when I wanted to throw in the towel I teased Kelly Chandler-Olcott, "All my degrees are art degrees. When I finish a doctorate, it will be a philosopher's degree. Except for the M.S. at Louisville, I've not been trained as a scientist. This research stuff is too much. I'm not a researcher."

Ah, I made it through, though. Now, teaching undergraduates and graduate students I laugh when they complain about research requirements and projects. I have to remember that it is all developmental and for many it is completely scary. Had I not experienced a full-blown research project through my apprenticeships and dissertation in the doctorate program, I would never have known how difficult the work really is. Research needs to be strategic, thorough, well-thought out, and carried forward over several years (as I learned again this weekend reading KCO's soon to be released book of data collected over a period of 4 years). Then there's writing about the work!

At the helm of a class of beginning and in-practice teachers (and a couple of more seasoned-ready-to-go ones), I'm face-to-face with a challenge and then some. A couple have worked with me before and they can move through the heaviness of an action research project readily. Still, there are others who are scared to death and haven't a clue where to begin.

I'm realizing early in the semester that the best way to teach the course is to model, to workshop, to give time and space, and to mentor. In a lot of ways, I see the work as a portfolio workshop, where everyone is working towards an individual project, but my instruction  assists them all.

I stole an idea from Kelly, too, when she had our Writing for Publication class do a journal review by highlighting what it does (and for whom) in brochure form. It was a clever way to take what could be overwhelming and making it practical and accessible. We're going to look into the journals that may be most helpful to the levels and content they will teach. That's the first step to being introduced to all that is out there.

I think if I had a research course in either of my Masters that was geared towards Ph.D level work, I would run. I wasn't ready for it, so I need to think back to my fledgling years and create from there. It's a challenge, but I know I'm going to love the results that come from the course.

Today will be about being strategic with a topic of interest for the semester. That can be the most taxing part for some.

Best Friends Who Have Been Cooped Up Indoors Throughout All This Cold Get A Day to Play

The ritual the last week has been Bryan going to the back door, opening the sliding glass and saying, "Do your business." Glamis the Wonder Dog refuses to go outside, but then runs to her leash as if I'm going to take her for a walk.

It's been too cold.

I've had to find recreation indoors with wrestling, sock tosses, tennis ball games, and chase. There's only so much one can do to entertain a dog when it's too cold outdoors.

I should say, too, that I'm still sneezing and coughing as whatever that virus was is slow in leaving. Yesterday, however, the temperature got almost to 30 so I was able to run (in preparation for today's Run for Refugees 5K and even walked Glamis).

But then Jake called and wanted to play, so we stopped at Walnut Beach to go for another walk, where a pack of golden labradors without collars and leashes found us, pulling me down a hill until I lost control, fell down the hill, and let the dog-play commence. They were great for one another, before an elderly lady arrived saying she had no idea how her dogs go out. She was able to get one to run into her gated back porch, where Glamis followed. One down, and just Jake to go. Eventually, he followed the other three and I got back in control.

All that play resulted in a dog-cushioned fire pit snuggle where they slept for an hour, cuddled as the best friends they are. I was lucky, too, as I got a shaved steak sandwich out of the deal as well as potato soup.

Happy Super Bowl Sunday everyone. After I run, I need to get my focus on as it is a frantic week ahead. I'm just hoping one of these days my nose and chest will finally clear.

70+ Middle School Youth. 100% Writing Success. Absolute Joy. Why? @writingproject traditions and @kwamealexander & @JackieWoodson Mentor Texts

This is the 7th year for leading Fairfield University's MLK Youth Leadership Academy for middle school youth (today, 70+ students). The program ran from 9:30 a.m. - 1 p.m., and as my undergraduate/ graduate students stopped by they kept remarking, "I was never focused this much in middle school. These kids are so great."

Interestingly, teachers approached during and after the workshop asking, "Can you visit our school? This is amazing to see what our kids are doing."

With 25 years of National Writing Project influence, K-12 teaching, research and conducting such workshops I simply have to respond, "You know this isn't me, right? I have nothing to do with how these kids are responding. It's the instruction. It's the choice of text. It's the models I'm offering and the prompts I offer. It's the fact that I know these kids have so much to say. These notebooks allow them to say it."

LEARNING TO PUT WORDS IN ACTION by Linda Lambeck, CT Post

(coverage of the day from another perspective)

Here's the skinny. I know that Kwame Alexander texts resonate with middle and high school students. I also know that the writing of Jacqueline Woodson inspires amazing dialogue and possibility. Yesterday, I simply began with 16 Martin Luther King, Jr. quotes and had them write and talk with each other. We then made lists of 10 things we love and 10 things we hate. From there, we played some improv games with words and I brought a college student, Akbaru Niyonkuru, and his friends to model the Power of Words for the kids.

In an hour, their notebooks were loaded with the possibility of language. Then, I simply said, "Let's read as writers," and we read a series of Woodson and Alexander texts. I think I offered five models (and one classic script from Free to Be You and Me, "Boy Meets Girl"). We played for another hour reading the model texts and trying out what can be done with our hate lists and love lists.

Then, I simply said, "You've been give models. You have idea. Let's take ten minutes and write." When they were still writing after 11 minutes - 100% of them, I gave them five more and made the case, "You wrote beyond my expectations, so I let you continue. You all have something to say and are taking pride in writing your lives."

I then said, "I'm opening the Mic," and closed my eyes. "When I open my eyes, I hope a few of you will be at the Mic willing to read."

Boom. The line was lengthy and what they were able to compose in 15 minutes was astounding: poetry, speeches, reflections on Martin Luther King, advice for administrators, book chapters and several contemplations on a Superhero power they wish they could have. Not that I should have a favorite, but one young man who wrote almost 3 pages in 15 minutes, wrote about the superpower of empathy and how it transcends everything else.

It was a powerful day, with 100% of the kids engaged with each other, the workshop and the shared writing at the end.

Again, I reiterated to teachers, "This is not me. Yes, I am at a University and have a big screen and microphone. It is the design of instruction that has been invested in me through the National Writing Project." Models matter. Choice matters. A belief in all writers matter. Community matters. A sense of humor matters. Voice matter. And listening matters.

With those tools available to young writers, they shine 100% of the the time.

I am so thankful to writers like Woodson and Alexander for writing the texts I wish I had to use when I was a K-12 teacher.

The Yes! Philosophy Has Its Limitations, @kwamealexander. I Live By It...Always Have, But Phew! I Need a SOLID NO Every Once in a While!

It's been a mission of YES since 2011 (who am I trying to kid, I've been a YES to everything in my world since the day I was born). I live by Dewey's mantra: experience + reflection = wisdom. YES, as a mantra, has delivered me to everything I know as a human being.

It's been my aim to be a wise fool, I guess. It's all good, right? Yes? No?

Actually, I am being both happy and sarcastic. I am thankful for everything that comes my way in this world, but I am growing scared of the bags under my eyes.

Abu posted a photo of him teaching Kwame Alexander's book to middle school youth early this week on Twitter and I was amused to see the picture, only because the story of Kwame's excellence has been with me since I've set out to be a mediocre director at a National Writing Project site. The skinny is I knew that Kwame's writing is exactly what adolescent readers needed and I was lucky enough to know of it before it went on the national scene. All of his books have become central to the Connecticut Writing Project work we do with teachers and young people, and I am LUCKY that I've been on the pulse of great YA writing for a few years now. I wouldn't trade that for the world.

In yesteryear, too, I remember Kwame discussed with classrooms the power of saying "Yes," to opportunities that come your way. It's the first time I've ever heard someone actually say it out loud and it resonated with me because, heck, I've been a YES YES YES and YES guy most of my professional career. The doors have opened, the experiences have been phenomenal, and riding the wave has been miraculous, actually, throughout most of my life because I've been a Yes to everything sort of soul.

The Great Whatever. Phew.

Yesterday, though, I drove home after the third 13-hour day saying to myself, "No. No. No. No. No. No. No." I need to learn to say "No," to protect my health, my heart, my mind, and my energy.

Haven't learned how to do it yet, but it's on my radar. Practicing here: No. No. No. No.

This morning, however, I'm heading out to do a workshop for 100 or so middle school kids and their teachers, and I remain flattered that I get asked to do this great work every year (especially in celebration of Martin Luther King, Jr.). I'm sure tomorrow, too, I will post about how much I loved the work. I'm sure it will be as great as the workshops I did last week, and the week before and with my graduate courses, and with my graduate students, and throughout the PD occurring in districts all across the state.

But Crandall has a breaking point and I am tired.

My YES schedule, as I look at my calendar, is full all the way until April, because last semester and and all of last year, I continued to never say NO. As a result, I'm currently rethinking that I may alter the Rooster philosophy some and learn to say,

Yes...Perhaps. Let me check my life schedule and where I am in the Universe before I commit. I tell you what. Maybe I need to consult grant funders, to find a way to do that for you, so that I can get better support for K-12 teachers and youth - this work needs to be financed and it's expensive and time-consuming. Okay, I appreciate the request, but I'm going to have to say NO until you bring a library of books to this classroom I've been volunteering in. Yes, I know. I know. I usually say Yes, but I'm on a campaign to leverage the work I do so that the cause is of greater support for the very people I love to work with. I tell you what, I will trade my YES if you will provide me a TRUST where I can continue to fund the excellence of teachers and kids, even after I'm long gone.

So, if in the near future you may hear NO from me, but I want you to 'know' it's not you. It's all me. I'm working through my relationship with a work ethic that has always been good to me, but it is currently drowning me. My NO is not meant as an insult, but as a YES to me - to save me so I can be here tomorrow for the Yes(es) that matter most.

Well, would you look at that? It's February already. Great month. Weren't we just here?

And I'm writing a blog post where I'm admitting there may be power in NO, too.