My friend Amy...

... blogs. And when I say she blogs, I mean she blogs like a madwoman. A crazy, hoarding, fifteen cat owning madwoman. And I love her. I am the sort who, last week when my computer broke and I had to get a new one, said to my computer genius (and pretty much everything else genius) sister, "I just need to be able to insert a chart into word, write tests for my students, and watch hulu". Classic. I once worked in IT at college, but I'm pretty sure they only kept me around because I color coded things and filed with great glee. Needless to say, I am envious of Amy's blogging. Not envious because I have nothing to say, or because I am incapable of speaking well, but because I lack the motivation to figure that out.

I do a lot of things in my life. I am a strong, independent woman. I work at a charter school, 8-5, and yet I still (try) to find the time for a social life, and someday, I will find time for a lovely significant other. But I learn by doing, and unless one of these times I take Amy and force her to sit down next to me and my newly purchased software and show me what she does, I fear you, my readers (do I even have any readers anymore?) will be seriously neglected.

Not that you aren't already neglected. Have I told you how much I love what I do? Have I told you how my students make me laugh and giggle, and how their joy at learning makes me glad to be alive and how their sadness makes me cry and their anger makes me angry? Have I told you how I want to smooth away their worries and bury their fears and dry their tears? Have I told you that sometimes I wonder if I will ever be able to have my own children, because I feel their pain so intensely, and they have never been a PART of me, even though they have become a part of me? Have I told you about the nights spent sharpening pencils and grading papers and coaching them through their homework over the phone? Have I told you I can not think of anything else I could do that would make me feel as WHOLE?

We aren't perfect. We don't have everything. We don't know everything. I strive each day to make my classroom a sanctuary-- to talk about the big issues, be sure no one is being called gay, to give second, third, fourth chances, to laugh and talk with them, to love them with all the capacity of my being. I work on the weekends, work in the evening, work throughout the day, work in the shower, work in my sleep, and I can not tell you enough that I would be empty without it. And if you are neglected, it is because I am busy shaping minds and holding hands, bandaging knees and drying tears, teaching fractions and singing silly songs about putting names on papers, teaching lessons and making charts, sharpening pencils and calling parents, and I trust you will forgive me.

I am neglecting you for the future of my world. Your world. Our world. If I were Amy, my blog would sing. As it is, I hope it speaks clearly.

Every day a challenge...

Just home from six hours at school... on a Sunday! I am not complaining, but this year (like every year) has brought a new set of challenges. This post will be short, but I would be extremely receptive to any thoughts.

Challenge 1: My class size has increased from 22 to 30

Challenge 2: I have many (many) students with IEPs and ADHD (some diagnosed, some not)

Challenge 3: I have a TA for the first time (blessing, but challenge as well)

Challenge 4: I am teaching a split class- third and fourth grade

Challenge 5: I have never taught third or fourth grade before

Your thoughts, prayers, ideas are welcome!

I made a donor's choose page!!

Check it out! Donate if you can!!

http://www.donorschoose.org/ms.keim

Much appreciated!

Break, shmake.

It happens every year. Fall break approaches, and I have this giant list in my head of all the *amazing* things I am going to accomplish while I am on break so that I can be ahead of the game, and excited, and the-best-teacher-ever, because what else would I want to be?

A sample list:
1. reorganize classroom library
2. create skill based unit plans
3. organize classroom
4. develop systems for classroom management
5. mastermind world domination

you know, little things, simple things.

Instead, I have done this:

1. relaxed
2. drank a lot of chai
3. laughed
4. spent time with friends
5. cooked
6. crafted
7. moved furniture

Not that I am complaining. Not that I am mad. Not that I am whining. It's just...

I guess world domination will have to wait.

I can't stay quiet.

I won't be suprised if this offends some of you who follow me. I'm not bothered by that. I believe firmly in our right to disagree, our right to have an educated, respectful discussion about our disagreements, and our responsibility to hear one another out.

I have always been one of those people who cringes awkwardly when politicians gather on steps to sing about the "Land They Love", someone who refuses to wear anything sporting or resembling an American Flag, someone who listens, but does not understand, those who espouse a "might makes right" perspective. And yet, in my travels and my experiences I have come to love the country I call home. I won't even begin to explain why, as most of my reasons center around personal experiences, and they're impossible to explain in even the most descriptive prose (which would probably bore the pants right off you), but I can say this:

If the debate (read: ranting, screaming, yelling, uneducated bs) over the proposed "Islamic Center" in New York is any indication of what it means to be an American, I want NO PART in it.

The assertion that Islam is a religion that espouses and encourages hatred and violence is just wrong. As with any other religion, there are extremes, there are people who take the message as it is historically understood and twist it, shape it into something that fits their needs and biases, even, in some cases, pervert it. There are also circumstances, life experiences, and cultural situations that form and shape people's religious expectations, and these can not be judged as right or wrong, but can be met with our best attempts at understanding before moving forward making assumptions and false accusations. Like many religions, Islam has had its fair share of violent moments, flashes of very poorly made decisions (crusades, anyone? extreme evangelism? religiously motivated genocide?). It is also true that those who believe that anyone not expressing viewpoints parallel to their own (regardless of their religion) have often fallen into the misguided belief that somehow by screaming their ideas and punctuating them with blood they can increase their likelihood of being heard.

Regardless of your opinions, using sweeping generalizations that assume that all Muslims can somehow be defined by one central common definition is nothing short of stupid. I guarantee you that many conservative Christians would no more like to be defined by my own loose definition of what it truly means to live by the example of Christ than I would like to be grounded by the definitions, beliefs, and expectations they deem as essential. It seems rather absurd that any of us see ourselves as knowledgeable enough to pass judgment on another.

Even more disturbing to me, however, is the opinion that creating a center that would allow Muslims to gather for food, worship, and communion (in the sense of community) is somehow un-American. In case we have forgotten, we are founded on the ideas of religious freedom and diversity (debatable though that may be given our historical track record), not the ideas of religious freedom and diversity on our own terms. As an American, as a woman, as an individual, I feel certain that when any one person is not free, I am not either.

Those who truly believe that a space that would allow individuals to gather in a way that does not infringe on the rights of others (and last time I checked, being Muslim does not infringe on anyone else's rights any more than being a Christian, or a lesbian, or a mother, or an artist, or a Buddhist, or a woman does) is un-American need to re-evaluate their own lives while holding to the light every action they choose to take that DOES affect someone else (like speeding, or drinking, or smoking, or swearing in public, or choosing not to be educated about religious or political concepts or history, or speaking without thinking, or believing they know everything). It's time to step back, and wonder how the things you enjoy are suddenly American, while those that make you feel scared, or uncomfortable, or stupid are not. We are not strong if our strength lies in bulldozing over anything we do not understand.

There are Muslims whose ideas I do not agree with, just as there are Christians and political leaders, and civil-rights leaders, and activists, and neighbors, and acquaintances, and friends with whom I disagree from time to time. But there are also experiences I have never had, and viewpoints I have never heard, and people I have never met and WILL never meet, or have, or hear if I don't listen. The fabric that we are made of is only as strong as the fibers it is woven of, and when we succumb to hatred and ignorance and lies, we weave a blanket of clouds which, while beautiful to look at, will never keep us warm. Dialogue can only exist if we invite it. Shouting your ideas will only leave you alone and yelling at yourself.

I want to be proud to be an American. But I want you to be proud too. And I want them to be proud as well, whoever they are.

Want to feel happy?

Just open your mouth! 

This is a tribute post. It will be short on words. 

The important element is this: look through your pictures. 

Find the ones you love. 

The ones that make you laugh. 

The ones that remind you of the best times. 

If you are anything like me, you'll find they have a common thread: your mouth is open. 

Want to be happy? Say it!

If you have four hours to burn, you MUST make this cake!

Inside out German Chocolate Cake (from epicurious.com)

I like to lay out the kids before I begin...

For cake layers

• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
• 3/4 teaspoon baking powder
• 3/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 3/4 cup whole milk
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
• 1 large egg
• 1 large egg yolk
• 3/4 teaspoon vanilla
• 1/8 teaspoon almond extract
• 3/4 cup boiling-hot water
  

For filling

• 7 ounces sweetened flaked coconut
• 4 ounces coarsely chopped pecans (1 cup)
• 14-ounces can sweetened condensed milk
• 1 tablespoon vanilla
  

For glaze

• 2 1/2 sticks unsalted butter
• 10 ounces fine-quality semisweet chocolate
• 3 tablespoons light corn syrup

• Special equipment: 3 (9-inch) round cake pans

Let's get this show on the road!

Make cake layers:
Preheat oven to 350°F and oil cake pans. Line bottoms of pans with rounds of parchment or wax paper. Sift together sugar, flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda, and salt into a large bowl. Whisk together whole milk, butter, whole egg, yolk, vanilla, and almond extract in another large bowl until just combined. Beat egg mixture into flour mixture with an electric mixer on low speed, then beat on high speed 1 minute. Reduce speed to low and beat in water until just combined (batter will be thin). Divide batter among cake pans (about 1 1/2 cups per pan) and bake in upper and lower thirds of oven, switching position of pans and rotating them 180 degrees halfway through baking, until a tester comes out clean, 20 to 25 minutes total.

Cool layers in pans on racks 15 minutes. Run a thin knife around edges of pans and invert layers onto racks. Carefully remove parchment or wax paper and cool layers completely.

Make filling:

Reduce oven temperature to 325°F.

Spread coconut in a large shallow baking pan and pecans in another. Bake pecans in upper third of oven and coconut in lower third, stirring occasionally, until golden, 12 to 18 minutes. Remove pans from oven.

Increase oven temperature to 425°F.

Pour condensed milk into a 9-inch deep-dish pie plate and cover tightly with foil. Bake milk in a water bath in middle of oven 45 minutes. Refill baking pan with water to reach halfway up pie plate and bake milk until thick and brown, about 45 minutes more. Remove pie plate from water bath.

Stir in coconut, pecans, and vanilla and keep warm, covered with foil.




Make glaze while milk is baking:
Melt butter in a 3-quart saucepan. Remove pan from heat and add chocolate and corn syrup, whisking until chocolate is melted. Transfer 1 cup glaze to a bowl, reserving remaining glaze at room temperature in pan. Chill glaze in bowl, stirring occasionally, until thickened and spreadable, about 1 hour.





Assemble cake:
Put 1 cake layer on a rack set over a baking pan (to catch excess glaze). Drop half of coconut filling by spoonfuls evenly over layer and gently spread with a wet spatula. Top with another cake layer and spread with remaining filling in same manner. Top with remaining cake layer and spread chilled glaze evenly over top and side of cake. Heat reserved glaze in pan over low heat, stirring, until glossy and pourable, about 1 minute. Pour glaze evenly over top of cake, making sure it coats sides. Shake rack gently to smooth glaze.

Chill cake until firm, about 1 hour. Transfer cake to a plate.





I'm eating tomorrow, and I suggest you do the same as soon as possible!

Merry Christmas!!