Misery of All Miseries! Mr. Impatient Learned Today as a Patient That His Patience Will Be Tested! Dang You, Ted Lasso & Apple TV! Bollocks!

This morning, by the time you read this, I'll be on a plain to Nashville to do work with the Iniat-ED crew, previous divergent winners working on literacy in the digital age initiatives. Yesterday I had to have the final crown put on (well, final for this tooth anyway) and while scrolling my phone I learned that the last episode of Ted Lasso was going to be released 3 hours later than usual. So, instead of my 9 pm Tuesday night opportunity to unwind my brain, it came out at midnight. I can't stay up that late, even if I didn't have to leave in the morning. 

And now I won't be able to catch it until I return. There went everything I planned out for last night...I worked all day so I could get to that moment (even though I don't want it to end). Oh, well.

I have my course for tonight online, just in case anything wonky occurs at the airport, and I'll have to work from the studio apartment I rented (cheaper than a hotel room and it's downtown). I'm treating this as a mini-writing retreat, too, and looking forward to seeing a few friends in Tennessee (although I'm sort of over Nashville....been there, done that).

And I'm happy to report the crown went on swimmingly, although being in a chair with suction and tubes all while allergies have snot running every which way and random coughs come out of nowhere is not a great way to spend a morning. It seems to be the year for insane allergies and I'm suffering, too. I'm ready for the pollen to simply go away.

Wow. Good-bye, May. That went fast!

We Must Celebrate the Small Victories and Applaud the Every Day Accomplishments That Come Our Way When They Do

I have been wrestling with a garden hose. I left a nozzle on the hose over the winter that was stored in the shed and in this year's garden routine, I realized the nozzle had seen better days but it wouldn't allow itself to be untwisted, so I simply shrugged my shoulders and dealt with it. But then I realized it needs to be replaced and it has been two weeks of me trying every trick I've known how to do do release its grasp on my hose. I have spent countless hours trying (WD-40, my supposed friend), but I have failed. 

Then, yesterday, finally, two pliers and much grip later, I was unable to unleash the nozzle from the hose...finally. I wanted a cheering section for when I finally accomplished the task (I mean, it felt really, really good). I was thinking I would need to purchase an entirely new hose just because the nozzle wouldn't budge, but criss-cross-apple-sauce, I finally spent much time on a Monday to unravel the monster. The hose is saved. Now for a new nozzle. So many hours being stubborn.

I felt like a Viking.

And speaking of Vikings, Courtney and Kanyea introduced Malia Celine Sayon into the world at 3:18 p.m. Monday afternoon. She was born in St. Jospeh's Hospital in Syracuse with a name meaning calm, peaceful, and heavenly. Kanyea, the soccer and Division I soccer-playing warrior from Ghana, is a dad. Who saw this day coming?

I will meet this little princess when I return to Syracuse for Lossine's wedding to Delaney on July 1st. Kanyea called me and I was like, "Why are you naked, kid?" and he responded, "The doctor said, skin on skin, and I've been holding the baby." They will be wonderful parents and I'm excited to see all the universe unravel and realign as they figure out the next phases of the beautiful occasion. 

I'm not one for cigars...hate them, actually...but couldn't help thinking yesterday was a cigar-necessitating occasion. A hose finally fixed and a baby girl.  The world simply carries on in its whacky, wonderful, mysterious, and beautiful way. 

Hello, Tuesday. What a miraculous world we live. 

What a Pleasant Surprise (on Mt. Pleasant) to Have a Unplanned Visit by Ger Duany on Memorial Day Weekend. Thrilled to Know This Amazing Man

And look! That's the painting by Leo Robinson of my father, Butch. Ger & Butch. Now that is a story to be written about.

I received a text message from Ger than he returned from the Cannes Film Festival in France and he wanted to stop by the house, but only if I barbecued like I like to do and make a small gathering out of the evening. Well, of course. Off to Big Y I go to get materials for a dinner party on the back porch. 

I love this man, and I am so thankful to Penguin Random House for sending me his draft of Walk Toward the Rising Sun when it was in the editing phase. I'm also glad Abu Bility and I were able to do the educator's guide for his text (and hope I'm able to continue when they adapt the book to a movie). 

It was spur of the moment, and I asked Kris & Dave what they were doing and they were running ragged working on their back patio and felt a Crandall dinner was perfect for their Sunday plans, too (because they wouldn't have to cook). Ger and Makuach showed, too, and we had a fantastic, spur-of-the-moment Sunday dinner discussing books, memoirs, globalization, Westernization, parenting, and this crazy life thing.

The coincidence continues. I can't help but laugh about I Heart Huckabees back in the day, when I used to show it to students and some of them, Alex Shultz in particular, fell in love with the philosophical storyline of the movie. I mean, Lily Tomlin and Dustin Hoffman were in the same film. 

Then came The Good Lie with Reese Witherspoon and Emmanuel Jal (who I meat with the Red Mountain Writing Project in Alabama). There are coincidences galore. 

Who would of thought in the 2000s when I started working with Sudanese communities in Louisville and was teaching high school (including I Heart Huckabees) that one day Ger Duany, the "coincidence" and I would be comes friends? That is the amazing way the Great Whatever operates! 

His latest film is Good-bye, Julia which just premiered at Cannes. It debuts this Fall and is about the succession of South Sudan, where a married former singer from the north seeks redemption for causing the death of a southern man for hiring his obvious wife as her maid. It was written and directed by Mohamad Kordofani, and stars Emma Yousif, Siren Rick, Nazar Goma, and Ger Guany. 

It is a heavy script, indeed, and I can't wait until a Western agency picks up the script and shares it in the Unites States. What a wonderful evening to jump into existence out of nowhere. These are the type of nights that we live for. Happy Memorial Day. So much loss, everywhere, has brought us to where we are today - the fight continues. 

My Brain Did Better Yesterday Than I Anticipated It To...Actually Accomplished Quite a Bit & Still Managed to Nap & Rest This Groggy Head

Sometimes I wonder what it's like to live a life as a non-educator, and to actually find time off when one has time off. Now, I know summers can be refreshing for a few, but the majority of educators I know keep going. It's hard to separate from the tasks at hand. I also know I need to stop taking on classes because there aren't enough faculty to teach them. The Brown School remains inside me, though. I care too much about the students in our care. Of course, these are graduate students.

We're trying to be finished by mid-June, especially since they graduated May 20th and they want to be on with their lives: job searches, moving, finally having meaning for that turned tassel. Yet, we have the final class, Capstone, to accomplish: an action research project and a professional learning plan. I try to make it as painless as possible, and am running it asynchronously. To be honest, I'm missed my Critical Friends Group days, because I'd love to run the course's plan of action with colleagues to get feedback. I'm trying to keep the bar high, to be innovative, to assist in all ways possible, but to allow breathing room. Half the class teaches full-time, too, and it's their end of the year. Needless to say, it is painful for every single one of us.

With that noted, I did get a two hour nap in....well, Bryan-style nap. I closed my eyes and let Karal move on me like I'm a giant pillow. Perhaps I faded away a couple of time, all because I know that this allergy grog requires rest, as well as medicine. It's been an insane week and I'm over it. Well, not over it/over it, but over it. 

Hoping today is a repeat of yesterday and that I can actually breathe better and mingle more. Fortunate for me, though....if I have to sleep all day, I can make time to sleep all day (and will).

Enjoy your Sunday. 

I Suppose the Connecticut Pollen Snot Is Much More Bearable Than the Ohio Valley Sinus Crud, But It Still Makes for Horrible Days

I haven been on a sneezing, coughing frenzy and already went through two boxes of tissues. I thought when I woke up coughing that I was done with it all, but it progressively got worse all day Friday to the point I couldn't hold my head up any longer. I ask this every year, "What's the purpose of all this nasal mucus, drip-age, and allergy garbage?" I just don't get it, because I lose all brain capacity.

I have/had plans for a productive weekend, and I'm down for the count. I need to get my breathing back in order, and to have my neurons firing like they usually do. Instead, there's nothing but echoes between my ears. Yes, Mom. I know. I get this way every year, but I am always ready for it to go away so I can function like a normal human being again.

It's such an attractive state of being: heavy head, fog, and bronchial cough. I tried to nap, but the faucet ran out of my nose and onto my arm while I rested my head. It was too gross and I had to get up. 

It's the pollen. It always is. My allergy tests in KY, showed I am pretty much allergic to everything but latex gloves, and the trees are the worst (cottonwoods, especially, and they've still to bloom). This is a yearly ritual that I simply despise and I simply have to await it to run its course...

...but I'm so impatient. Ugh. 

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year! Bringing Joy, Community, Life, Genre & Voice to @CWPFairfield Educators in July! It's the @WritingProject Way

One of the best parts of being a National Writing Project director is choosing the direction our invitational summer institute for teaching writing will go, especially when offering resources for teacher-leaders. With State of Connecticut funding, and a powerhouse crew of educators coming to us in July, I simply tapped the best texts that have me thinking about the power of words with young people - spectacular books, I feel, that can guide the five-week conversation about community, reading, writing, thinking, and presentation. I worked with Possible Futures Bookstore in New Haven to select books that will not only inspire ideas for K-16 classrooms, but also make sense for working with the 100s of kids who attend our Young Adult Literacy Labs (and participate in classroom instruction during the year.

This is year 10 of the design and the data continues to show it works...so much so that educators are spreading the word to other educators and recommending the summer programs. I knew at NCTE  Unearthing Joy by Gholdy Muhammad was on the top of the list and I was fortunate to be invited to the Scholastic lunch (Gholdy-Star for them, indeed). Also, after a year of work with Jessica Early Singer, co-editing a journal, I realized her book Next Generation Genres is exactly what our teachers need, too. I was thrilled to see Ralph Fletcher re-release The Writer's Notebook, and I couldn't be more ecstatic to share Sonya Huber's Voice First with our summering crew (this is a must-have book for writing classrooms)

I always like to have shared readings with kids on campus and since we debuted New Kid on campus several years ago (200 copies, with Jerry meeting us in a Stew Leonard parking lot....all signed), I knew I had to go with School Trip for 2023. And, for our Ubuntu crew (and my own personal reasons...I worship the work of Luma Mufleh) we will be looking at Learning America, about her quest to support refugee youth through sport and literacy.

I've been telling everyone that the two thing educators need are rejuvenation and the restoration of hope. Since National Writing Project is a gift (and Alan Luke says the same of pedagogy), I've chosen to gift this summer's cohort with readings that will accompany the daily writing and professional development across the State of Connecticut. And I'm also proud to announce that I made all the colors of our summer programs into the sticker for the 2023 writer's notebooks to be gifted to all who come our way: little labbers with big imaginations, novelists, essayists, college-bound writers, and just arriving immigrants and refugee youth. 

This is the 10th Anniversary of our vision and I can't wait to collect another year of day. The formative experiment that began in 2014 has offered me rebirth, vision, and a desire to do better. 

As always, it's the model at work.  

Who Remembers Shmoo? Or How they Used to Advertise New Saturday Cartoons on a Night Show Weeks in Advance to Get Kids Excited?

The purpose of my post is to not recollect childhood wonder, but to inform everyone that it is the time of year when pollen creates nasal run, soar throats, and a ridiculous cough...it's like having Shmoo living behind your rib cages. It happens every year and I've yet to find a way to stop it. Phlegm. So gross. Internal cement miser.

Seriously, though, do you remember how they had a nightly show to advertise the new Saturday shows? I always looked forward to this knowing what to look forward to on Saturday mornings when there was no school. I suppose Nickelodeon stole this from the major networks, and now imagine YouTube stole it from all networks (as the excited can be M-F, 24/7, 365 days a year if one wants.

I don't recall Shmoo achieved the legendary status that was promised, but I did tell Kris Sealy it should be the name of the new car she got last fall...it's totally white.

And that is what is happening in my chest. Total movement of phlegm until I cough it out.

Of course, a four-week, summer graduate course doesn't help, since there is no rest: it's wake up and work 14-hour a days to help the student to achieve their goals (and in this case, finish their degrees). They are done. And for the ones who had to do EdTPA, they are beyond done. They're traumatized.

It's no longer about learning. It's about testing, and more testing, and more bureaucracy, and more testing. I continue to say, it's the only way corporations make money in education, so grab hold of higher education and you got a money-making scheme. But I can see it pushing people away from the field because enough is enough. 

I know now why every other state has rid itself from the grasp. It's gross.

Like hacking up the pollen. Ugh. 

Adopt-i-versary. Two Years Ago Yesterday, I Drove to Harrison/Rye to Meet Karal and She Came Home with Me. My Eccentric Terrier/Collie Mix

Karal is a Covid dog. She came to Mt. Pleasant when the house was robust with activity and all attention was totally on her. She is her own dog and loves nothing more than getting the attention of everyone around her. She needs to be the center of it all, and when she's ignored, she nips at heels and aims for sleeves. Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!

This has calmed down some, but now that the nest is empty, fewer people are in her space, she saves her spastic ways for guests. When she and I are alone, she simply needs to be on my shoulders as I write, or by my feet with every step I take. Her latest is being triggered that I might leave, which has brings her a nervous shake some days, or a guard-dog approach of the door so I can't get out. She loves nothing more than car rides and visits with everyone. She loves visiting Syracuse where there's attention everywhere and she can't sleep at night unless she's curled up in my back. 

I told her yesterday that I'd take her to the pet store so she could pick out treats in celebration of her life as a Crandall. She wanted everything, but I limited her to only a few choices (the donut cookies are for her and Jake when they play again on Friday night - he's her best friend). 

I think about this dog who was adopted and returned three times in her first year, so I get the possessive nature she has around her daddy. It creeps me out at times, because she sits and stares at me lovingly. I've had many canines, but none quite like her. She's an angel with commands and treats, never runs away, and always having to have me a few steps away. But I never know when her ADHD lines will break into veins under her eyes, when she becomes possessed for the love of everyone around her. They say it's a terrier thing. She's outrageous.

Anyway, last night we celebrated two years and I still remember her eyes staring at me in the rearview mirror driving from the shelter, until she settled into a long nap (such a great traveler compared to Glamis who hated the car). Yes, she ate a seatbelt her first long drive to CNY, tissues at the after-party of Patrick/Stephanie's wedding, and a Queen blow-up mattress that she somehow pulled from shelves during a 20-minute grocery run. Those are her three "bad girl" moments. Otherwise, she's simply a spazz-a-ga-zoink. 

And I can't imagine life without her...or her basket of toys and bones that she has to take out every single morning to distribute all over the house.

She'll be 3 in August. Man's best friend. 

And With Two Weeks Off Since Teaching My Last Class, I Am Back Teaching Again (4 Hour Sessions) on Monday/Wednesday - Four More Weeks

The good news is that my students have me, and I can't sit with myself for four hours, so why would I make them do something so cruel. For these reasons, I've learned to mix up classes with on and offline tasks, multiple spaces to work with cameras off, and a building of final projects without the need of me squawking. It's also nice that I hav the SnapChat App that helps me bring forward comic interludes. 

And it takes four hours to prep for four hours so it doesn't feel like four hours, but students get their four hours. I'm not sure how much others put into such classes, but my bar is high, so I try to meet them in the middle....if I put in this effort, so should you.

Ha, and it's been a minute since I uploaded a video for Blogger and have no idea what quality it will be. But I am thankful that I have today to give my brain a break, for yesterday was non-stop so that I could get all the materials in place for the course. But, we're on the road to find out....so finding out we will

Photo from Saturday Night in Bridgeport (Mural). I've Been Waiting for Aliens to Abduct Me for Over 30 Years Now. They Just Never Come

It's always wonderful to see great art in odd places, as we found trying to find our Uber driver on Saturday night. This was a mural painted on the side of a building that caught all of our attention, specially the aliens in the windows. Great, public art like this simply makes me happy. 

And reminds me, Whitley Strieber, I've yet to be abducted.

Yesterday was spent in a writing bonanza, some yard work, and pollen swelling my heading and hacking my throat. I'm dizzy from all the congestion, but then it turns to a faucet. What remains the same, however, is the dry cough that moves from the left to the right side of my throat depending on which nostril is going to work. 

Finally, Drat. It's Monday again and the summer courses already begin...four weeks of four hour classes on Monday and Wednesday night. I know the students and I will get there, but I also recognize the drive and passion it takes to move it all forward. I'm still tired from teaching this course last year and doing so during the winter session. It's a lot, and it takes over the entire day. But it is a test of organization and pace, which many may not believe I'm good at, because my brain operates like snakes popping out of a can. Behind the scenes, however, it is the real me.

And I got this. There's no choice (well, there is a choice, and in the future I'm drawing a line...I'm getting too old to take on all the slack of not enough instructors to teach our courses. I did it for another year because our students are amazing and they deserve it, but it is coming at a cost to me. 

Off to campus to record the class for this evening and to put out fires still burning from Spring. Jeepers. It never ends.

Geoffrey Canada, 4 Tops, & The Temptations. That Was an Eventful Saturday, Indeed. All in the Pouring Rain.

Several months ago I picked up tickets for Leo and Pam's birthdays to see the 4 Tops & The Temptations on what I thought would be a random Saturday night at the end of the year, where friends could gather, listen to music, and have fun. It happened to also be graduation weekend, and it also just so happened to be, I was asked by the Provost's Office to introduce the commencement speaker. Well, this was the one and only Geoffrey Canada of the Harlem Children's Zone (HCZ) which happened has happened to be on the radar for excellence much of my early high school teaching days and beyond

I was asked to be an early greeter and to make sure he made it through the ceremony, as well as read the words for his honorary hooding, a moment of pride, indeed.

Of course, yesterday was a total washout, too. It down-poured from 9 a.m. until 10 p.m., so moving about was a little wet (including the walk I took Karal on so she's actual go outside. We were drenched by the time we got out seats and the Uber driver almost killed some idiot who jumped out of the sidewalk in front of the car as we were entering the stadium.

It would have been a more remarkable day if we had blue sunshine and yellow sun, but you can't undercut the greatness by all the individuals. The music was great, the dancing catchy, and the singers outstanding. I can't imagine that some of these guys have been doing the show for more than 60 years, well into their 80s and even 90s, with a few younger replacements.

I also couldn't help but think about the history Canada shared that shaped him, knowing that the struggle for democracy and to "be heard" was also a part of Motown records and the triumph of the music and art. 

I am feeling blessed I experienced the day as I did, although it was much time away from home on a Saturday. I believe we all need rest today, and perhaps a really good, solid meal that isn't finger food. 

It was a privilege to have experienced both. 

Phew. This Season Always Gets Me. There Will Be Much to Celebrate this Weekend, and the Updates Are Arriving in Stereo.

In 2014, stressed about a nation no longer funding the great work of the National Writing Project, I set out to create a youth model, so that every young person who came to write with us each summer, would also fund another young person who couldn't pay. We had 9 young people in Ubuntu Academy that first year, and I hired two graduate students to run it: Jessica Baldizon under the mentorship of Kaitlyn Kelly. We had a basic idea of what we wanted to accomplish and we used Kwame Alexander's The Crossover to provide first steps...this was before a Newberry and with faith the book would speak to new arrivals.

Fast forward. It's 2023, and Abonga Ndemba, Congolese, first in his family to get a high school diploma, was recommended to us through his ESL teachers at Bassick High School. He came to our programs for two years and I've enjoyed hiring him and his brother for house sitting and dog-walking when I have to go out-of-town for conferences. 

Last night, he sent me this photo from Southern Connecticut University, proving he's also now the first-generation college grad in his family as he pursuits a degree in medicine and nursing. Those of us who started on this educational journey with him in 2014, always knew he was a song for knowledge, devoted to his personal excellence, a loyal son and brother first, an focused on his goals. 

I'm now channeling memories of yesteryear (including extracurricular yoga lessons with Charlotte Pecquex), first interactions with U.S. teachers, and the promise of what it takes to achieve in the wonky, high-stressed, often neurotic arena of higher education in our nation. 

I'm proud to say, this young man achieved what he set out to do. 

Today, we'll see 300+ graduate students earning Master's degrees and tomorrow, over a 1,000 undergraduates. It is the seasons of graduations, but for now I'm savoring this moment. Always loved this young man! and I always will!

It's Been a Minute Since I Spent Time in a High School Auditorium for Awards Night, But This Was an Extra-Special Occasion

Phew. I am channeling awards of class 0f 1990, the awards from 1996-2007, and all awards given anywhere. A special shout-out needs to be made for Stratford Public Schools and the dedication of their teachers, their administrations, their athletics, and their community (which is also me). I was beyond impressed by the layers and levels of awards given to graduating seniors at Stratford High School, including music and civic-engaged leadership. The program was 2 and a half hours of youth celebration, and I'm impressed by the number of organizations and families that come together to support youth in this region. 

Actually, I live in Stratford. I chose this community because it best replicates the demographics of what I knew for over a decade at the Brown School in Louisville, Kentucky, There is tremendous energy in super diversity, and this districts that embrace it best deserve rounds of applause. Nothing brings greater joy to my heart that seeing the demographics that walk by my house daily on the way to Wooster Middle School and Stratford High School. 

They renovated the high school and it was my first time inside last night. Wow! That auditorium is state-of-the art.

It was extra specially to me to see Isaiah Johnson, Val Wooley and Maddie Everlith receiving acknowledgements for their hard work. They are extra special to me because they are CWP-kids and family. I'm beyond impressed by their vision for the world. 

The award-ceremony offered hundreds and thousands of dollars to graduating seniors and I have to admit, a part of me, wants to run of the Board of Education and invest more onto this public school consortium in Stratford, Connecticut. It isn't the grandiose, wealthy Whiteness of the University where I work, or th extreme poverty of where I invest most of my time. Instead, it's a district of the United States of America, trying to find its way in the ultimate extremes of this nation. 

I'm proud of all the Stratford High School award recipients, but have a bias for the three pictured here because I have personal connections. 

They were just middle school kids but not they are setting out to change the world!

And at the Very Last Minute, the Oldest Arrives. Welcome Home, Justinl. I Was Just Feeding Your Family on a Wednesday Night. Glad You Came By!

Another nickname for the Crandall, Johnson, Sealy, Wooly crew simply is survival squad....joyful roller coaster and meaningful cluster #@$@. We look out for one another and try to provide food oasis for one another when the workload is heavies. I knew it was a weak of concerts, keynote preparation, teaching, and scholarship awards so promised I'd cover dinner for them at least one night to ease the frenzy. Besides, I love to overcook so I have leftovers. Potatoes, grilled zucchini, salad, steak, chicken and sausage always makes for wonderful day-after meals so I'm good for a few days. 

We played a few games, too, and as the departure was occurring (the adult crew and youngest are heading to Montreal for a conference and I'm attending the scholarship ceremony with Val and Isaiah, seniors at Stratford High Schoo), Justin surprised us after a two day trek from Memphis. He's home for the summer, which I'm thankful, because I have a house/dog sitter when I go to Nashville next month.

There is so much vibrancy, intellect, storytelling, and joy with this family crew, and the journeys for all keep growing more and more amazing. The IQ power, musical talent, artistry, and wit is an absolute sitcom and the family is more post-modern than modern. I only have one more year to soak in as much as I can.

Another highlight from last night was a part of the game we played asked for a rock, paper, scissor battle, in which it came to Dave and Me and neither of us could win. We kept throwing the same signs and Kris was like, "Just give up. Neither of you are ever going to win because you share the same brain."

Truth. And look at Justin...rounding up another year of his doctoral program at the University of Memphis, representing 100% fusion of the entire family and all of its history. I had him as an undergrad and hired him to work with me at CWP. When he came to my house as a tele tubby, I was won over forever.

Not bad for a hump day, and tonight it's part II with the award ceremony. They will be missed, but I'm not going there until it's this time next year. For now, I'm simply soaking it all in. 

Always an Honor to Attend the Celebration of Retiring Faculty after the Last General Faculty Meeting @FairfieldU .. The Inspiration & Wisdom Are Insightful

I planned on rushing home to writing and dog care after yesterday's General Faculty Meeting, but the lure of attending the retiree celebration has quickly become one of my favorite rituals. For years, I watched dozens of teachers and principals retire from my K-12 teaching days and remain mesmerized by last-minute advice, words of wisdom, and celebrations of those who have dedicated an entire career to the work of educating others. 

Last night didn't disappoint, and faculty sang accolades of individuals with 20-30+ years of work giving of themselves to the profession, the passion, and the joy in what they do. Rank & Tenure taught me much about the excellence of faculty I work with, but the retirement ceremony, with last words of outgoing faculty has always been a highlight, too. I'm amazed at how individuals wrap up all the days of writing, research, teaching, and service to have a final good-bye to what they've dedicated their lives to accomplish. 

Nursing, Accounting, Economics Religious Studies, Theater, and Marriage & Family Therapy. Here was a celebration of many giants whose shoulders I stand upon, with collaborative work, advice, and absolute wisdom (knowledge we seldom share with one another). 

Pictured above is Marty LoMonico, who has done a fabulous job mentoring the thespian, play-writing, stage hand communities of campus, and devoted a lifetime to storytelling, performance, staging, and quality theatrics on our campus. I was also mesmerized by the kindness and grace of Paul Castor, and the absolute brilliance of Paul Lakeland. It's hard to imagine a campus without them.

I was sad that my own colleague, Maryanne Labella, was not in attendance to have her final shout-out, but I know her well and she's never been one to seek attention from others. Instead, she dedicated her life to our students, the hard work of marriage and family therapy, and many of the behind-the-scenes day-to-day activities that keeps the place running. I have over a decade of high school teaching under my belt, with another 13 years of campus teaching. The work is tireless, the battles are enormous, but the choice of academic excellence, drive, and a love for students remains central.

They make it known that everyone is replaceable, but I counter this notion that this is not true. I've become a better human being because of the individuals who were honored last night, and all they invested in me will be carried forward in the work I hope to continue to do. 

Such brilliance, simply makes me sit back, applaud, and have nothing but honorable respect for the dedication it takes from those who do incredible work. 

I say to each and every retiree...thank you for leading the way for exactly how it should be done. 

Loved to Return to Japanese Irises in Full Bloom (and I Can Tell You the Exact Home Where a Lady Gave me the Free Roots). The Rest is History

While walking the streets of Stratford you come across a lot of free stuff in yards, but one day there was a sign that said "Free Perennials," so I walked down a side street and a kooky cat lady had a yard full of wildflowers that she apparently cut up, divided, and rearranged on the regular. On that visit, she gave me a pot of irises which I planted in the back yard. The seep, creep, and leap saying has bee accurate. After three years, I cut up the plant and divided them to several parts of my yard. I now have 8 or 9 areas that bloom Japanese Irises in May, and they are simply stunning. I'm always wishing to have people over when they're in full bloom because it makes my house look all fancy. Look at me, the gardener.

Last year, I put the another batch out front and I'm hoping to do more of the same this year. I also noticed while mowing yesterday that the Lily of the Valley are in bloom, so I have insta-house air-freshener for a while. There's nothing like it. Soil therapy takes a lot of effort, but it's always worth it (in fact, I believe I'll procrastinate more this morning in communion with the plants)

I also procrastinated writing by going and buying way to many annuals (which I know is a fat disappointment because they don't last....well, they do, until December in Connecticut, especially if watered and fertilized correctly). 

We're coming off several days without rain and there's already fire warnings, so I need to get outside with my hose. Last year, my law was cooked by July 1st and nothing took off like it should. Everything was simply thirsty. I hope for rainier days, but we can only get what we get.

All Summer in a Day. Thank You, Ray Bradbury. 

Everything else is booming, and I look forward to harvesting blue berries this year. I also think I should buy a couple more plants for cross pollenating. I also have mean to plan milkweed for the monarchs...restoring opportunity and chance where humans have been taking it away because of farms, pesticides, and the nature of food distribution in the 21st century. 

Truth be told, all I really want is a lake, a dock, a fire pit, and a yard to plant shit. Of course, I can also use a window, too, to keep an ey on it all. 

That is my happy place. 

No, Nikki. It's Not My 'I Have to Go Poop' Face. It's My Face. RIGTGP Face (Resting I Got to Go Poop Face), I Guess

So, my niece says when I pose for pictures, it looks like I have to go to the bathroom and I'm irritated. I guess she must take a mirror into the loo when she goes, because I just make the Bryan face, so if that is what she looks like when she goes, then maybe I do have that face.

I am simply feeling extremely grateful and happy that I got to spend this Mother's Day with my mom, my sisters (who are both moms) and Laura, Mike's mom. It was great to have Jacob, Alyssa, and Adamo, too (I hope I spelled that right). We had a great brunch, wonderful conversation, phenomenal weather, cooperation of all dogs, and a wonderful afternoon.

Nothing like sunlight to show that at least two of these Crandalls don't dye our hair. I won't name which two, but I'm the one catching up to Mama Sue. Very thankful to both sisters for their incredible brunch preparation, and wonderful to always hang out with Dave, Mike, and my Dad. Sad that Chitunga wasn't with us for the gathering, because my CNY life has also been made central with his presence (but he's in Iowa now).

Traffic coming home was 180% better than getting to Syracuse. There - 6 hours, because of a one-lane highway on 84 loaded with semi-trucks. Coming back, just the occasional Toyota spending time with a mom or two. 

Boy, my lawn sure needs mowing.

I am grateful for a few days on Amalfi Drive, time with the parental units, and an incredible four days of very unusual Syracuse sunshine. Today, it starts early and I'll be semi-normal (whatever that is) after graduation proceedings are over. 

And Mike! Thanks for leaving slices of Palladino's plain-cheese pizza. It ended up being dinner at 9:33 p.m.

Love to all. Families matter most. Okay, Monday....we got this. 

Any Day Now...Courtney & Kanyea Will Bring Their Little Girl into This World. Phew. That Came Fast!

A beautiful, San Diego-Day in upstate New York. Sunshine. Temperatures in the 70s.  A great day to grill outside: chicken, potatoes, and veggies, coupled well with a goat-cheese salad. Twins swung by to eat, helped dad and me fix a fence, and then I finally made it to Kanyea's and Courtney's apartment, a month after the shower...When Courtney said, "She's do any day now, I was like whoa."  

Any day now. Unbelievable. Time. Phew.

But today, is Mother's Day and mom has boxes of chocolate, a brunch, and all of her fledglings near by, so it is a celebration, indeed. The temperatures won't be as warm, but it's not going to rain and it is really miraculous that it hasn't rained once since I arrived. This is Syracuse, isn't it?

And to celebrate, here's a picture of my mom with David Byrne. He moved to Salem some time after Marlena's 2nd possession, and for a short while he listened to all the complaints she has about Papa

Butch. It was a short-lived friendship, but definitely one for the Days of Our Lives fans. 

Of course Nikki attacked Mr. Byrnes with a saber and rifle, shoving a banner....

Oh, that's enough of that gossip...I don't was Stefano DiMera coming back to Cherry Heights Salem on my last day in Syracuse. 

Here's to all the mothers. Happy Mother's Day to all who celebrate. May you feel love and appreciation today.

And Another CNY Tradition Taking Care Of...Sitting Out Back Under the Canopy Drinking Budweiser with the Folks (After Ordering Out)

At least we didn't order from Chubby's. That's the usual tradition. And I miss the days when Bonnie would walk over with a vat of ziti or a mile long carrot cake....also the days when men lined up around the block to drink cases and cases of Budweiser until they stumbled home at night to their wives...

okay...no one really misses those days...they were nightly (and right outside my bedroom window where my father keeps his fire chimney.

But those were the days, and all of us were missing the swimming pool, which was a hub for CNY summers from the time I left for college and beyond. May-August meant every one in the pool for our stupid games, praise, barbecues, and conversations.

Cynde and Casey have dad's tent pimped out in solar disco lights so there will be might Firefli competition this summer. 

But there aren't any Labatt's Blue in the refrigerators, neither upstairs or down. I suppose that phase ended rather quickly. 

The bird sounds and skies remain universal, though...so does dad yelling out to any neighbor who dares to step out of their house. He's also parking in lawnmower in the backyard every night and when asked why he responds, "I don't know. I've just been doing that." 

And he has. 45 years of routines on Amalfi Drive. Crazy to recall all the memories and to witness all that has changed. 

Blink of an eye. Blink of an eye always. 

This Is Before Sunset, Pulling Up a 3rd Chair for the Dog, the Radio He Blared with 8os Music, and the Blankets He Brought Out for the Two of Us

Sitting in the ol' garage on Amalfi Drive has multiple memories: Chris & Lori across the street, Karl next door, all the beers by the garbage cans, the neighborhood kids, the thunderstorms, the mosquitos. That's why after dinner last night, after we also swung by Cynde and Mike's, that Dad and I settled in the garage. He grabbed Budweiser (what else is new) and a couple of blankets. We sat in chairs, watched the skylines, and kept an eye on Karal. I laughed when he got us extra beers and somehow found a radio in the garage to blare music from the 80s: Toto, Dirty Dancing soundtrack, and other banal music. It was sort of precious, especially as Karal took his chair, so he pulled up another one and sat in that.

Oh, if his garbage cans and lawnmowers could talk...the stories they'd tell. 

And watching Karal on the front line with memories of Dusty, Tizzy, Mokie, Baby, and Glamis just pulls the zipper up on time. New dogs. Same routines. New neighbors. Many routines (mostly beer) retired. The number of cans and bottles that garage has seen...

...the same garage that became a summer home for Casey during her recovery during college: spiders, wheelchairs, Claim to Fame, and many a night finding entertainment in that garage. 

The Mayor of Amalfi Drive, still waiting for a Sherburne pitchfork for best lawn to be jabbed into his front lawn (it's why he mows every day).

This is the core of my CNY upbringing. The Core. The base. 

And I'm lucky to experience once again while I hide from the University insanity.

Back in Syracuse and Bringing My Father to His Happy Place - Chubby's - and Ready to Bring a Little Joy For Mother's Day

(Besides, I really, really, really, really, really need a break from the University. It's been way too much this year and I need to mentally find a lil' space to partially heal). 

The traffic wasn't cooperative on my way up, but I was okay with it because I listened to Luma Mufleh's Learning America book which I will definitely be showcasing in my teacher institutes and youth programming this summer. For 5 and a half hours, I simply felt like was traveling with a friend, a woman 3 years young who has lived a parallel life....hers as a coach and me as a teacher. I learned Fugees Academy has a 2nd school in Columbus, Ohio, so NCTE '23 just got a little more interesting. 

I fed the folks salmon, pulled pork, meatballs and rice (a medley of food given to my in CT the last few days - I made it work with a rather good meal of many flavors).

Today, I have writing, a doctoral defense, more writing, and the need to address some curricular issues with an approaching a deadline. Also have to think about dinner, the fact that it will be in the high 70s two days in a row (and it's Syracuse....the sun is actually out). 

I still have an hour and a half of Luma's book, though. I'm ready for a little more travel. 

My Mouth Continues to Be Worth a Helluva Lot More Than I Am. And Another Root Canal / Crown Later, I Could Have Funded 20 Teacher Institutes

When I was a kid, my sisters always checked out clean at the dentist, where I always had to go back for multiple fillings. This continued throughout high school, and then in college I stopped going...until my molars exploded in Louisville...I had them out in an emergency and was told then, "Sir, you need to see a dentist. You have much needing to be taken care of." Well, I discovered University of Louisville Dental School and they worked on me for free - the students needed to get their hours, and lucky for me, my first crown - a gold one - was used for an indigenous dentist to pass her Boards. I was the perfect patient for them to practice on (and my bank account appreciated it)

Granted, once I got insurance I found a good dentist who LOVED giving me laughing gas and I loved receiving it. Moving to CT, I haven't been so fortunate. Still, I found a dentist I like, he retired, and now I have a dentist I love. She's Pippi Longstocking meets Punky Brewster, and I appreciate how fun she is....even if every time I go it costs me a pretty penny...

...this time an emergency root canal (last week) and a temporary crown today. She's an artist, but it is definitely NOT the kind of art I'd ever choose to do. Every time I pay for procedures, I can't help but think how others do it, especially people who aren't paid as much as even teachers. It's just so expensive, and insurance covers so little. 

I've been saying for years, "Just yank them and give me dentures," but they refuse. I just  have to be very frugal to pay some of this down.  It drives me nuts when I get charged by the receptionist at the end. It's bonkers, actually. Ah, but my teeth are my teeth. It comes with the genetics. 

And that's life. Pbbbbllltlttt. 

Celebration of Teachers & Teaching @FairfieldU - Rounds of Applause for the 42 Graduate Students Completing Student Teaching & Surviving EdTPA

Since 2011, I've been planning and hosting the Celebration of Teachers and Teaching as part of our Spring program, May being the month that our soon-to-be-graduates finished their student teaching in community schools and, now, uploaded their materials to Connecticut's EdTPA assessment program. Graduate courses are taught, student teaching is tougher, and having to fulfill State requirements is the toughest task of them all. Our labor is of love and passion, and some of that means holding our programs to state and national accreditation that transcends the University. We prepare professionals for the nation and the volume of work it takes to get each student to this successful place requires cooperating teachers, supervisors, faculty, staff, administrators and multiple community partners. 

As my own son attests, "The best way to help fix the social ills of society is to have campuses invest in stellar teaching programs. The surest ways to reach kids in our schools is to offer them excellent teachers."

Last night, we also hosted award recipients Jessica Baldizon and William King as the keynotes, who also emphasized the importance of human togetherness, community, and an investment in relationships. 

As I listened to my colleagues of multiple disciplines discuss the excellence of their students and the achievements they've made, I couldn't help but be proud. This is the work of many mountains, rivers, streams, oceans, and skies. Each student is a product of the excellence of those who invest so much into Graduate courses, advising, and mentoring. It is the heartbeat of the work.

A final shout out to Dr. Ryan Colwell, who once again oversaw an incredible crew of elementary education students and who, finally, can take respite from his stellar Chairmanship over several tumultuous years. He deserves all the respect, grace, and appreciation out there. He's been a champion for the impossible, but an action-guy who made it all possible. 

I hope the books and iris bulbs gifted to every graduate student blooms for many years to come. 

There Are These Brief Moments in Time, When Grades are Completed, Spring Has Sort-Of Ended, and You Have Space to Think Normally (and It is Overwhelming)

I finished graduate projects at about noon, chiseling away at stellar work from 6 a.m. with a desire that if I finished I'd actually be able to do soil therapy and work in the yard like a normal person on a weekend day. Those of us in teaching, in the academy, are so used to 14-hour days, 7-days a week, that it feels odd, foreign, to actually have time to take care of the Homefront: no emails, no assessments, no planning, and no writing projects. It's a bit unnerving, actually. 

I talked to a couple of colleagues who are looking forward to their summer to recoup and I realized I've never had that...not as a classroom teacher, a PhD student, or a Director of a National Writing Project site. Just as one thing ends, another thing begins, so when there are these small windows of self-care, rejuvenation and, dare I say it, selfishness, it all seems very odd. 

I walked the dog - but I always walk the dog (it's my one hour of therapy). I also pulled all the summer apparatus from the shed: tables, chairs, planters, and other outdoor paraphernalia. And I dug my hands deep in the soil and planted several flowers that have been gifted to me (and that I purchased). It's impossible to do it all at once, but I was delighted to spend 8 hours off the computer, out of my house, and soaking in the fresh air and sunshine. 

I also have leftover Julep from Derby, but that remains in the fridge. I thought about building a fire, burning the falling twigs and branches, but didn't do this - that is a tradition that Chitunga and I enjoyed together....didn't seem right to do all alone. 

Alas, it's Monday again. The week ahead is heavy, but I have a plan of action to put it to best use for the goals I have for now and the upcoming year. So, this morning I'm inhaling and hoping to exhale as much as possible.

Teaching is a lot and there are seldom any red carpets or ticket-tape parades. But, I can say that yesterday I experienced a mild respite from the chaos and almost felt like it was an out-of-body experience. The grind I always heavy. It feels when there is even the slight opportunity for a lapse in the routine. You actually wonder, "What the hell am I supposed to do? Why do I work as much to maintain this crazy"

But then the dirt makes you feel good, and so does a hose. 

And the Mermala-Derb-Day Was a Success, with Dominik Taking the Grande Prize and All of Us Stuffed with the Goods of a Grilling Season

I should also mention that Oona's potato salad with bacon was out of this world. Salmon and wasabi, steak tips, dill salad, fruit, coconut shrimp, beer, and bourbon. It was a surf-n-turf for the ages and a perfect, spring day in Connecticut to watch Mage surprise the world.

I gave myself half a day. I said, "Grade what you can, Crandall, and cook the rest of the day away," including a mermaid cake for Pam's birthday and another year without a win for her. Shoot, I'd like to win the pot, too.

Today, I will get back to grading, and as soon as I'm done, I want to head outdoors for soil therapy. I'm ready to get dirty, to plant, to landscape and to do outside work. The temperatures are suppose to be in agreement.  

Patrick and Stephanie win the day with the Mae-Mae tropical attire and derby hat (not pictured here is a very floral Ethan, too). 

A lot of preparation for a two minute race, but an absolute great reason to get together for fun, down time, and high energy.

That potato salad, though. Superb!

It's Merm-ela Derb-Day, & the Mint Julep is Chilling in the Fridge; Meanwhile, Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo and I Went Out with a Friend to Bodega Taco Bar

Yesterday was one of those weird spring days where the sun was out, blue skies, the occasional cloud, yet rain showers. I kept wondering where the rain showers were coming from. It was another terrible day for grading, but I did get things prepped for Monday's Celebration of Teachers and Teaching and I finally arrange my payment strategy for the siding, as well as met with my financial advisor. Lawn is mowed, too, as well as a birthday cake made.

But today is for grilling salmon and steak, and getting ready for the two-minute horse race....well, the bourbon.

Bodega Taco Bar in Fairfield is delicious. Packed. Loved. Crowded, especially on Cinco de Mayo, but worth the wait (not too bad - just 15 minutes). And I had a blood-orange margarita which was good...more grapefruit than orange, but I'd order it again. 

Now I'm getting nervous about grades...I think I can get a big chunk done this morning, but I don't want them overhanging my head for the afternoon/evening party, nor do I wand a hangover from that same party. 

Okay, I need to weed whack, too. It will all get done. It always does.

Is It Considered Emotional Eating When Cram-Grading at the End of 2nd Semester After the Most Turbulent Academic Year of One's Life? Asking for a Friend.

I am recalling vividly that Matt de la Peña said in a video sent for my birthday, "Old man, hold back on the red meats. They are not your friend." 

But they are, especially when a burger calls your name from Sitting Duck down the street and Chitunga left you a gift card. My morning started at 7 a.m. on ZOOM and ended at 8 p.m. on ZOOM. I only had time for three graduate projects, which I graded in-between other work, and I'm feeling nervous I won't finish them all in time. The thought of cooking made me more frantic, so I simply caved in and ordered take-out. 

I know it's bad, but if this academic thing becomes too much (Trust me, it's too much), maybe I can become a food photographer. This looks so good I want to eat it all over again. 

Now, if I would just grill on Sundays, more chicken, and then do a layout for salads and vegetables, when the hunger pangs arrive, I wouldn't have to panic in end-of-the-semester blues. I want something quick, easy, delicious, and mildly satisfying to make me feel good inside, because the hectic work is stressful and cumbersome.

Well, a paper was submitted (already accepted....hoping they enjoy). There were three projects graded. I did do PD work with several teachers and their students in a new district, Karal was walked, and I attended a new grant meeting, so the day wasn't a total flop.

But it's that burger that winds the day. 

And someone please tell the pollen to hurry up and go away. In CT, the dry drip from my nose to my throat causes a dry cough that drives me bonkers. I'm ready for it to go away. There's not enough water to soften in all up.

TGIF. I'll be grading.

Okay, Thursday. This Week Has Not Gone According to Any Sane Plan, So I Am Going to Celebrate a Phenomenal Wednesday Afternoon, Instead

The Book of Job, and Archibald MacLeish's JB, taught me one thing. Still maintain faith on good, despite all the crazy thrown upon you. Yes, it should be a religious decision, but that's not how I operate, unless you look at the good in humanity or in nature to give meaning for living a better life. God lives in the every day routines we too often overlook. That, I believe.

Yesterday, I spent my afternoon with incredible people from Bridgeport Public Schools celebrating the inspirational work of teaching, administrating, and doing the best for kids. I was fortunate to see friends with awards: William King as an Inspiration recipient, Jessica Baldizon with the Beard Award, and Saran Smith as the outstanding administrator. I felt the love, the joy, the dedication, and the support. It was two hours of awesome and I feel very fortunate to have had opportunity to be there, present in the moment, hooting and hollering for the excellence of others who have chosen excellence in their lives. 

This, after more and more of its opposite in the career work I do at the University. I am super proud of the teacher leaders that have been with me via CWP-Fairfield, great literacy work, and commitments to English language learners. They are the hope. 

At some point I need to grade. They are due. 

Yesterday, we wrapped 40+ books for student teachers who have just finished a semester of student teaching and completing the EdTPA bureaucracy Pearson has caused for certifying teachers - an extra layer of insanity to topple the insanity that already exists for simply doing good work. And they (we) do it because we wish to invest in the best for kids in our schools. 

I did a brief scan of news of the day and I simply want to shut off the world and hide. This is not the nation I grew up in, the one I believed in, nor the one that should be making me proud. It's quite the opposite, actually, and I need to find a way to recharge so I can do the work I've loved doing for so long. I'm simply looking to restore hope, which I know will take time.

I have my faith. I know what it is good. And I'm stubborn to fight for what I know is right. But I also know there's one so much that can be done.

The Inspiration Award recipients deserve the universe. They are the magic makers of only one city, in only one state, in a nation that needs to do so much better for its educators...

...and the families of K-12 youth.

Today is Wasp-Sting Day...As Many Kennelog Bites I Can Get in the Legs to Ease the Fire, Scaling, and Blemishes. Phew

Sure. Why not write a little more about my sore-eye-is-us? I love my dermatologist, Dr. Moss, and the fact that in five minutes, he stabs me a few hundred times with needles and a week later, my legs clear up. Psoriasis is a barometer for stress, and it's the time of the year with the most stress, so it's a good thing. For the first time they are on top of my feet, on my forearms, and heading towards the elbows. The shots are temporary, but they work for a little while. 

It's the burning that drives me the most nuts. For those who know me, they see how hard I try to stay balanced, calm, and in the collected moment. My body can't hide the frustration, though, and in staff meetings and with administration shenanigans, I feel like flames are shooting out of my skins. 

It doesn't lie. The flesh is honest. Actually, our instincts are, too, but there is this thing called professional etiquette and not getting fired for calling people out. 

Ah, today is a great day as I am meeting with teachers in the morning and celebrating teachers in the afternoon. It's a win-win-win, especially with the wasp stings, too.

Wait? Is it humpday already? How?

I Finally Got a Photo of My April Obsession...the Mama Fox Who Has Been Hunting Vermin for Her Kits & Entertaining My Mornings

Look! No Poetry! It's May and I am back to pontificate the university, my thinking, my mental meanderings and my gripes. Yesterday morning, I wondered what I'd do to start my day without a prompt for verse, when the foxy lady came trotting across the street again. I'm in love. Such a beautiful creature and I want her and the little ones to move in! 

Alas, Karal would ruin that fantasy, because she's such a spastic, pain-in-the-ass.

Yes, much has been going on in the last month that I haven't been writing about, and I have May to begin processing it all. I've been saving the foxy lady for day one, and don't wish to unleash a million and one gripes here on the first day back from being poetic. I actually have about a billion and one gripes, but I need to position myself around the optimism I've built my life around. 

I do know that I brought a lifetime of ice cream to yesterday's SEHD faculty meeting: Magnum Bars, sorbets, and Snicker's frozen treats. There's enough to last faculty a few more weeks in the Dean's Office. I also know that CWP summer work is upon me and I have not even opened those folders...especially for the teacher applications.

With thanks to Gholdy Muhammad, I want the summer spent rejuvenating joy, not only for educators, but for the young people we work with. Our systems have slowly become absolutely joyless, and we have to be smart with remaking them (should those in power ever choose to listen). 

I'm off to campus today to discuss community-engaged scholarship, and then I need to jump into graduate grading, as the undergraduates were finished during the monsoons of the past weekend. 

I should note the fox is without any dead animal in its mouth because she was heading to the hunt, rather than returning to it. I love that her morning ritual has paralleled my own, and I'm thankful she's yet to return with a cat in her mouth. That might be a little too much, even for me.

I've said it many times and will say it again. No major decisions or discussions should ever occur during the last two weeks when students, staff, and faculty are overwhelmed with all still needing to be done. 

Yes, I wish I had summers like everyone else... 'away to do research,' but that's never been the case because summer has BEEN the research. 

Here we go Tuesday....you can pay me that Hamburger, Whimpy.

Yeah, It's May 1st, but Yesterday Was the Last Day of #VerseLove '23, so a Final Poem to Say, "That's a Wrap."

Well, this weekend in Connecticut we had absolute CNY weather: gray, winds, rain, and a total washout. There was only a 60-minute pause this morning (in which Karal and I head out for a walk). There's only so much indoor screen time a person can take. 

On the 30th day of #VerseLove, Sarah Donovan opened the floor for the community to simply write what left they had to say, which I wanted to be a thank-you, but needed to find a way to anchor it....I went with a 'now what' rhyme scheme and called it a day (not only chicken butt, but running around with my head cut off like a....)

Tomorrow, I'm back for more normal Compital Crandall and I hope readers don't mind the monthlong dedication to poetry. It keeps me sane and lets me satisfy the language guy that I am. 

Congratulations to all participants this year. It was an absolute blast.