Author Visit Part 2: The Thrill of Victory

When I returned to work, I spoke to The Powers That Be about my concourse conversation with Mr. Wilson. Thankfully, they didn't need much convincing; I was already bubbling over with potential plans.

By Doug Wilson and Jody Cohan

"It's a new book. It's non-fiction." 

"It's about sports!" 

"We can talk about media literacy!"

"We can do montage contests! I can post lessons on ItsLearning."  

The Principal was enthused, our parents were on board, and I was one happy CRL. It was January; we had four months to pull this off.

Though I am far from an expert on the subject, I figured I'd share some tips for those of you planning your own Author Visit.

Leading a reporters workshop

1. Find one

Before we talk about balloons and faculty meetings and books and classroom connections, let's figure this out first.  

I consider us bonded, dear reader, so let me be totally honest with you: it ain't easy to find a good visiting author; actually, it's difficult to find a visiting author, period! 

If you want to know why such a wonderful initiative causes this CRL many a sleepless night each year, here are some of the avenues I have tried...only to come up completely and utterly empty:

• publishing houses (in Boston and New York)

• teachers in other districts
• an open letter on Twitter in which I tagged dozens of local and not-so-local authors with an invitation; it received zero responses.
• voicemail, email, snail mail
• author websites 
• local newspapers



Steve Krasner 2012

• International Reading Association

It isn't easy. Throughout my search, I've learned that many schools don't offer these programs anymore and, if they do, they don't receive much media coverage. There isn't an accessible database, website, or blog that touts recent successes with author visits including contact information and fees (we've got your back.)

So here's the secret - talk to people. You don't have to run into Doug Wilson and Dick Button at the US Figure Skating Championships, but if you do, talk to them!  As much as it pains me to admit that my father is correct, let me declare on my little blog that - in this case - he is: It's not what you know, it's who you know.

Visiting Author book signing

Talk to colleagues, friends from high school, family members, and neighbors; think outside the box.  Does anyone know a blogger, reporter, author, artist, playwright or composer? Several years ago, our author was an 8th grade teacher's father's best friend who happened have a storied career with the Providence Journal as well as several children's books under his belt. I think we nabbed him because said teacher heard me wailing, relaying my author-woes at an ELA department meeting. He was next door and probably wanted me to stop crying.

He wasn't Veronica Roth, but most of our students - if they want a career in writing - will find his story much more applicable.  

The following authors are CRL-certified (yep, just made that up):

Steve Krasner

Christopher Golden - 2013

http://www.nudgingtheimagination.com/

Christopher Golden
http://www.christophergolden.com/

Doug Wilson
http://www.dougwilsonabcsports.com/

If you decide to work with any one of these fine gentlemen,we'd be happy to help guide you!

2. Plan ahead

• As much as you are able, force yourself to make decisions ahead of time. 
• Inform people as early as possible but only when final decisions are made. The Wilsons and I threw around several dates before settling on May 20. Only then did I announce the visit to staff, parents, and students.
• Contact your local media: it doesn't always work, but it is worth a shot. We've arranged newspaper coverage for two out of three visits. Everyone loves a story about kids having fun at school!
• Small considerations, like scheduling the 8th grade assembly later in the day due to testing, working around existing lunch schedules, or allowing the chorus to rehearse without changing locations are little courtesies that go a long way.

Front hallway: decked out and ready

 3. Make it real

By far, the biggest challenge I faced was to make this ABC Sports producer real for children who had never seen a single broadcast. Sure, I knew the Wide World of Sports theme song and was familiar with the moments featured in the opening montage, but we teach the ESPN generation.

This is where loving out loud pays off - my excitement about the visit inspired me to pour every ounce of energy I had into making this experience meaningful for my students and valuable for Mr. and Mrs. Wilson. Failure was not an option.

• books were purchased for every member of the staff (due to one colorful word and one reference to, um, another physical activity, we felt we were unable to distribute the book to students)
• I generated a page of "Classroom Connection" ideas and tucked it inside each book
• several videos were shown on the morning news broadcast, introducing the student body to Mr. Wilson and his work, teasing them with some splat-tastic highlights

4. Prepare the kids

It goes without saying that the kids who are prepared are more excited, more engaged, ask better questions, are better behaved, and get more out of the experience. Since we know the benefits, don't be afraid to require work out of your students beforehand. This will look different depending on your author's area of expertise.  For Doug Wilson, I encouraged my students to watch the broadcast moments chronicled in his book. This man was an audio/visual expert, so I let them learn by watching. 

An Art Club creation

I used our online learning portal (ItsLearning) to create a course for the Visiting Author and enrolled all 497 students; there, I posted videos, polls, and discussion boards that coordinated with passages from the book. Students could watch Evel Knievel, Dorothy Hamill, Muhammad Ali, and Secretariat. And Michelle Kwan. A lot of Michelle Kwan (hey, it was my course.) 

For Mr. Krasner the sportswriter, I ran off dozens of sports articles and sent an email that linked to a new one each day. The kids were encouraged to read his articles as well as non-fiction books of their choice.

For Mr. Golden the novelist, each student was required to read at least one book he had written. In addition to directing kids to local libraries and bookstores, we bought multiple copies of his books and sold them to our students at the school store.

Deck the halls!

5. Remind Harass  

Let's be honest: most of us are simply too busy to remember something we heard once. If you want faculty buy-in and well-prepared kiddos, you need to provide a lot of support on a very regular basis. Do you want teachers to assign YouTube viewing for homework? Then type it out, include the link, and send it to them.  One teacher even invited me into her classroom to write it on the board. If you can take something off teachers' plates, do it. And don't be afraid to repeat yourself!

My favorite poster

6. Take it on

This isn't a great tip for those trying to de-stress but if you, like me, are a bit of a control freak, don't be afraid to make things happen.  If you are worried about things getting done, do it yourself. Check and double check. Make phone calls. Confirm. Follow your gut. If you're worried lunch isn't going to arrive on time, you are probably right. Call your Principal and demand politely request that he deliver sixteen sandwiches to your room el pronto.

7. Party

I can fit 28 balloons in my car. In fact, after several book reveal assemblies, summer reading celebrations, and international literacy days, I can now strut into that store and state my mylar needs with confidence.

We Crazy Reading Ladies know a thing or two about spectacle, and it works. When you make something feel like a big deal, it is.

• Balloons, posters, student-made signage...do it all! Mr. and Mrs. Wilson even picked up on my color scheme.  
• Display a welcome banner signed by students and staff.
• If you are welcoming a novelist, create a graph or poster that features different book covers and have the kids sign what they read, owning their accomplishment.
• Have a book signing.
• Contests/small group workshops: we've rallied our kiddos to create non-fiction, short stories, and video montages depending on our author du jour.
• Food: if your school allows it, have it. Everything is better with food.
• Invite the kids to dress up or dress according to a theme (sports jerseys, ABC sports colors, etc.)
• Deck the halls - the art club was invited to create posters featuring "the thrill of victory" and "the agony of defeat." Last year, they made super snazzy book cover replicas. More than anything, I think this is what Mr. and Mrs. Wilson appreciated most. It was the warm welcome they so deserved.

8. Do your research

Doug Wilson - 2014

I can't take credit for what made this day a real success: Doug Wilson. Oftentimes we are tasked with hiring a speaker or performer without ever having seen him or her "do their thang."  Mr. Wilson gave me the opportunity to hear his message and map out his presentation to the minute. We had several extensive phone conversations about content (yes, I will teach Jim McKay; no, we are leaving Munich out) which allowed me to better prepare our students and staff. 

We had a complete dry run (with technology) the afternoon before and made some final decisions about content and timing. The result was a day of positively seamless presentations. He spoke about The Power of Words; it was outstanding.

9. Accept help

• parents offered to buy lunch
• colleagues covered my classes 
• the Art Club moderator led two after-school sessions for poster making
• Mary took over Writing Club duties
• students served as a welcoming committee, escorting the Wilsons upon arrival
• a parking lot buddy made sure every balloon made it inside
• Mrs. Wilson and the Principal manned the controls at the back

Emmy-award winning Asst. Principal

The CRL don't do technical difficulties, so I dragged my Principal into that auditorium and had him make sure every button was lit and every switch was flipped. How was I supposed to know there isn't one "ON" button for the sound system? Apparently, there are six. And they have to be turned on in a certain order. I'm not kidding.

10. Say "Thank You"

When all is said and done, and you are basking in your post-Author Visit bliss, people are going to tell you how much they enjoyed the day. The kids are going to tell you it was the best day ever, that it really wasn't boring, or that it was the coolest thing they'd ever done. One 7th grade boy, after meeting Doug Wilson, said, "I think I found my place now." 

Encourage the students and staff to write their thoughts down and send along their words of appreciation.  Once again, I used the online course and created a gratitude thread. Over two hundred kids responded. The pages were printed and sent off to New York along with photos from the day's events.

"To Michelle Kwan, who brought us together."

Perhaps someday I will stop being surprised by this wonderful job or my miraculous kiddos...but not today. I look at this photo and can't quite believe it. The love of Michelle Kwan brought us together and the connection I made with the Wilsons won't soon be broken.

Is it August? Yes.

Am I already nervous about how I'm going to find another fabulous author for next year? Ohh yes. But in the last three years I have had three Author Visits that have looked completely different, and I know that is okay. Next year, it will come together the way it is supposed to, and our cherished tradition will continue. 

In Part 3, we'll talk about how we made this Author Visit a two-day affair; arranging our Skype session with co-author Jody Cohan!

Author Visit Part I: When Worlds Collide

Like so many wonderful things in life, my story begins with Michelle Kwan.

Told you it was awesome.
 And yes, we still have it.

My devotion-turned-admiration for this beloved athlete is no secret to my family, friends, colleagues, and students. In fact, it serves as a beautiful (and, at times, overwhelming) example of what we Crazy Reading Ladies hope to encourage, and what Michelle taught me long ago: love out loud. Wear your passion on your sleeve! Make signs! Gush! Let it out! OWN IT.  

Beaming behind MK's left shoulder.
World Championships, 2003.

Long before I was a Crazy Reading Lady, I was a Crazy Kwan Girl. My friends and I saved every penny we could and traveled to skating events around the world; I got my first passport to fly to the Torino Olympics. Each year, we counted down the days until her program music was announced and then burned CDs of her competition and exhibition pieces. I still tear up at the first notes of East of Eden or Spartacus. We bought tickets - several of us on the phone at once to guarantee the best seats - to competitions the minute they went on sale. Once there, we draped her hallowed arenas with bling-tastic signs and coordinated our outfits to match her dresses. Now card-carrying "grown-ups", we still associate cities with competitive memories (ahh, Atlanta. Oh, Crap Louis.)  Only recently - clinging to the safety net of YouTube - did I say goodbye to four dozen long-loved, meticulously labeled, color-coded VHS tapes. 

That's a Kwan Scream.
 Atlanta Nationals, 2004.

Ah, the glory days of Kwan. She gave us brilliant, beautiful memories, drew me to some of my dearest friends, and taught me lessons I desperately needed to learn. We were so, so lucky to be hers. 

Though I was never discreet about my love for Michelle in my professional life - I have a Wall of Kwan behind my desk and wear my "Got Kwan?" hoodie every sports jersey day - this year, my two worlds absolutely and completely collided into one big pile of literacy love.

In January, the US Figure Skating Championships came to Boston and my friends and I gathered for a fun reunion weekend. Out on the concourse, former ABC Sports director Doug Wilson was signing his recently published book, THE WORLD WAS OUR STAGE. As a skating fan, I knew exactly who he was. I recognized his hat, his voice, his smile. He had directed just about every skating broadcast I'd ever seen and had manned the helm of ABC's Wide World of Sports for fifty years. He was a legend. So I stood in line, bought a book, and struck up a conversation. Now, although it may surprise some of you, I consider myself a shy person. But this was the perfect storm. The chance to talk about books, my kiddos, and Michelle Kwan? I would not shut up. 

If memory serves, I was wearing my CRL shirt at the time; the man had fair warning.

C'mon Michelle, we know you 
still have skates!
Boston Nationals, 2014.

As we spoke about our mutual love for Michelle and waning interest in the competition at hand, I mentioned that as a reading specialist, I welcomed an author to my middle school each year. "Would you, by any chance, be interested in being our visiting author?" 

I knew it was a long-shot - I hadn't even spoken to my Principal - but sometimes, you just know. Wearing my passion on my literal sleeve paid off. We had a connection. Sure, Doug Wilson was an Emmy-award winner, published author, and sought-after speaker (and middle school is...an acquired taste) but what was the harm in asking?

The legend: Doug Wilson Boston, 2014

To my absolute delight, he said yes and we exchanged contact information right on the spot. I'm telling you, only good comes from being a Michelle Kwan fan.  

In Part II, we'll talk about everything that went in to making Author Visit 2014 as perfect as the Kwan spiral.

What a difference a year makes...

Hi, All. 

Mary here. 

My girl in July, 2013

These days I find myself marveling at how much things change and grow over time.  I know exactly what is sparking this sense of wonder: my 12 year old daughter.  One year ago she was a round faced cherub who couldn't reach the glasses on the middle shelf of the cabinet.  Today she bought sticky notes and notebooks in preparation for 7th grade and has plans to meet a girlfriend for lunch.  How time flies.

July 2014...all about selfies

It was just about one year ago that Erin and I put together our first Crazy Reading Ladies blog post.  So much has happened since then.  We celebrated reading with 280 students at Horace Mann and 180 at Southwest Middle School, our first satellite All In! school.  We presented at the annual NELMS and IRA conferences.  We wrote an article for Reading Today and were thrilled to be picked up by the Marshall Memo.  We're hearing every day from teachers all over the country, and even a few internationally, who want to help their students discover the joys of social reading. 

In the spirit of reflection (and to post something while Erin's away on vacation and I'm missing half my brain), I thought we'd re-share with you our very first blog post.  To those of you who have joined us along the way, welcome!  To those who have been with us all along, thank you.  We are so incredibly thankful to have your support. 

*******************************************************************************

TO OVERWHELM: to overpower, to overcome by superior force, to ignite, to empower, to engage.

Erin: 
We were seated next to each other at a round table in the Assistant Principal’s office. We’d recently aired a promotional video, and the unscripted sound effects of one 7th grade boy amused us so much we used it to punctuate humorous moments in the film.   Word had gotten around that said boy was getting flack from his friends, and we’d been called in to “fix” the problem.  Up until now, our entire experience had been filled with warm fuzzy feelings, weepy hugs, cheering kids, and once-in-a-lifetime teaching moments.  This was our first whiff of negativity and we were wrought with concern. 

“Do you want us to cut it?  Do you want me to re-record you?”

“What did those kids say?  Who was it?  Let’s get them down here!  Seriously, you are the star of that video, man.”

“The teachers are already fighting over who gets you next year!  We are so sorry this happened…”  

 When the dust settled and we took time to listen (silence is not one of our practiced virtues), middle school drama proved to be just that.  Our young literacy leader loved the video exactly as it was; in fact, he suggested we post it to YouTube saying, “It’ll totally go viral!”

After our young man left, we were left staring at our administrator.  And then it happened. 
 

“Do you two have any idea how overwhelming you are?”

With the intention of putting us in our place, our assistant principal had effectively christened us with our new identity.  

Me? Overwhelming?

We are overwhelming.  Overwhelmingly excited, overwhelmingly passionate, overwhelmingly talented, overwhelmingly successful. 

We couldn’t have come up with a better moniker if we tried.

Mary and I are literacy soulmates.  Although different paths led us to our present teaching positions - an Elementary classroom for me, the publishing world for her - we both landed at Horace Mann Middle School in the fall of 2010.  We had such similar personalities and professional ideologies that we found ourselves brainstorming without even thinking about it.  We could (and would) spend hours talking about kids and teaching.  Not only did she encourage my crazy ideas, she had most likely thought the very same thing.  We are each other’s biggest fans.  We finish each other’s sentences, love and hate the same books, appreciate a well-placed semi-colon, understand the importance of fashion when teaching a novel, and both thought being called “overwhelming” was a huge compliment.

Cornucopia Relay Race - our take on a "book club."

Mary: 
Our journey of school-wide reading adventures started serendipitously. We were both at an 8th grade ELA department meeting where the conversation was meandering and the agenda loose at best.  

“So, Shawn (our Gandalf, aka Principal) mentioned that he thought it would be cool to have the whole school talking about one book.  What do you guys think about taking on a book club?”

“Half of my kids did their Summer Reading book talks on The Hunger Games.  It’s popular.  And there’s a movie coming out…”

“Hey, you don’t think he’d let us do a field trip to the movie, do you?”

OMG, Peeta so dreamy.

Turns out he would, and the weeks that followed were filled with marathon planning sessions, feather boas, reapings, kids reading in the cafeteria, and “Peeta or Gale?” posters plastering the hallways.  Letting passion and ridiculousness be our guides, we threw together a massive (and, dare I say, overwhelming) school-wide reading initiative that included taking half of our student body - 221 students - to The Hunger Games movie on a perfect Monday in March of 2012.

The movie was followed by full-contact trivia competitions, talent shows, cornucopia relay races and scavenger hunts.  Along the way there were costumes, district theme songs, and a whole lot of kids crossing social boundaries and having fun together.  They let us know that this worked.  It worked well.  And it just felt right. 

When the year ended and we had a chance to catch our collective breath, we marveled at what we’d helped unfold.  We thought we’d caught lightning in a bottle – the perfect book at the perfect time.  But what we’d found was so much more.

Middle Earth Runs on Dunkin

We found passion.  We found purpose. We found our calling, and we found each other. We are the crazy reading ladies.

Now with two successful adventures behind us (we followed a certain hobbit on an unexpected journey in 2013), we are more than ready to go all in for 2014.

We are honored you’ve decided to come along for the ride.

And we promise to be as overwhelming as possible.    

Erin & Mary

Blogging...Tweeting...are we hip or what?
Follow us at @allinoleary & @allincotillo 

Good Things Come in Threes

Throughout our journey we have learned a lot about the adolescent psyche, including:

1 - the magic of positive peer pressure

Headed to the Boston Premiere!

2 - the power of the tease
3 - the importance of belonging
and
4 - the honor behind a name

You've heard us wax poetic about the first three, so that means it's high time we give due diligence to #4.

There's just something about a name; they have an almost mystical power.  To name a thing is to make it real, to lend it legitimacy.  And, lame as this may sound, kids like names.  The first two years of All In!, we were called all sorts of things.  The Hunger Games club, The School-Wide Read, The Hobbit book club, that thing Ms. O'Leary and that other lady do after school.  Then we picked a name.  Whoo boy!  Stand back!        

That's right.  Identify behaviors you like, slap a snazzy label on it, use it repeatedly, and watch it spread like wildfire.  The kids used the name and it made us real.  A sweet 7th grader passing her reaping whispered, "I got it?  I'm All In?"  An exuberant 6th grader shouted to the secretary, "Do you know what today is?  Today is All In!"  

Year three was the first year for another name as well.  We're not quite sure where we heard the term "Three-Peat" first…most likely it was a sports reference and since the CRL are admitted word nerds, it's not surprising that it stuck.  

Because our middle school consists of three grades and this was our third annual All In!, these eighth graders held a special place in our collective CRL heart. They had borne witness to literary shenanigans each and every year of their middle school careers and we were eager to discover just how many kids belonged to our trifecta. So one Saturday morning in January, we sat in front of three years' worth of reaping slips. We cross-referenced attendance sheets, checked names, and then checked again. As we wrote each name in a notebook, we could hardly contain our squees:

"Oh my gosh, he's one!"

"The Elizabeths!"

Right in front of our eyes the list came together, and we were overwhelmed. It was not the first time we looked at each other and said, "We do good things."

Our very first class of "Three-Peats"

There they were. Twenty-two of them. Eleven boys and eleven girls. Their educational needs ran the gamut: honors-bound, Special Ed, regular ed, 504, sub-separate.  They were athletes, mathletes, theater kids, and writers. They were honor roll students and struggling readers. They were members of the 6 Pillar Society and self-proclaimed "loners." Our three-peats.

They were the ones who said "Yes" when two teachers threw together a school-wide reading initiative during their sixth grade year, and blindly followed the CRL to destinations unknown. 
They were the ones who said "Yes" to reading THE HOBBIT in seventh grade.
And they were the ones who decided going All In! was cool enough for an eighth-grader.

Though 890 readers have followed, these kids were the very first to go All In!  They were brave. They allowed themselves to get excited about a book. They loved out loud. They taught us more about what motivates children to read than our combined two decades in the classroom.  And, at the risk of sounding overly emotional, they made us make sense.

Love out loud. And on a bus.

Reactions to the "Three-Peat" honor were just as unique as the children themselves, ranging from Mariah's "My mom is so excited for me!  We were jumping around and screaming last night!" to Luke's "I just did it all three years because I thought the books looked interesting." to Jake.  A child who, in 6th grade, had moved across the country and landed in CRL territory. He had always been an enthusiastic participant and plain 'ole good kid, but we never realized what this social outlet meant for him until recently. One day this spring, he handed us each a cupcake, took a breath, and said, "You have no idea what you've done for me. I guess good things were meant to happen."

Though we had discussed (at length) possible ways to honor these superlative teens, we had our secret hopes set on one thing; and, in an eleventh-hour miracle, our movie insider came through (again!) with tickets to the Boston premiere.

Now, how best to reveal the news?  Let's think...
We love spectacle.
We love surprises.
We love honoring our kids.

We quickly decided that an assembly was the way to go.  Balloons, posters, and flashy music aside, it was very important to us that those students receive recognition in front of the other participants. Bank on that positive peer pressure! We wanted the auditorium filled with students thinking, "I want to be up there next year."

And it worked.

After the assembly, Erin returned to her 7th-grade Wilson literacy class, which consists of children who require specialized instruction in reading and writing. As one young lady got up to retrieve her notebook she said, "I'm going to be a Three-Peat next year, which is so weird because I don't even like reading…"

March 18, 2014 was the US premiere of Divergent. Our generous principal paid for a coach bus to drive our cherubs into Boston to see the movie the night before the rest of America would be able to.   
That magical night out was our way of thanking them. We sat there grinning like idiots, hearing nothing but adolescent giggles, incessant chatter, "Is this Boston?" inquiries, and shrieks of "There's a bathroom on the bus!" We live-Tweeted the affair and found it amusing that, due to the time difference, we were *technically* seeing the movie before Shailene Woodley and Theo James. Joined by several staff members and Three-Peat parents, our evening was as fabulous as the honorees themselves, and well worth the sleep-deprived haze we all experienced when we tried to function the next morning.  

Standing at the helm of our swanky bus the night of the premiere, we took a moment with our DIVERGENT t-shirt-clad darlings. We would never have had the same success if not for our superlative eighth grade leaders.  We got teary and admitted that teachers often have the same fears as students: What if this doesn't work?  What if they don't like me? The energy and enthusiasm these kids brought made our jobs easy and ridiculously enjoyable. They made it worth every single second of confusion, panic, and late-night planning. Because they bought in, the rest of the school went All In! We were truly blessed with a phenomenal group of young people who trusted us and made this program exist.

Cheers to the Three-Peats.

We love you.

A work of heart

Warning: this post is about love.


I'm not talking about feeling passionate about my profession or developing a meaningful relationship with my students.  I am talking about plain and simple love.  See, I am a girl who loves freely and easily.  I'm a Polly Anna, a glass half full kind of person.  An optimist.  That means, typically, over the course of the year, I learn to appreciate all of my students, and feel sincere affection for most.  And there are a handful every year that I really and truly love.

This is uncomfortable stuff.  This is the kind of thing that raises eyebrows and leads to awkward conversations about professional boundaries.  I hope you'll trust me enough to understand what I mean.  I love these darlings like a mother.  I feel compelled to nurture them, I feel proud of their successes and ache with their struggles.  I feel more than just a general sense of concern.  I worry about them when they aren't with me.

I'm sure I'm not alone in loving my students, but here's the thing.  I'm not supposed to say it.  Teachers, especially teachers of older students, are not supposed to use the "L" word.  We are not supposed to touch students.  Hugs are verboten; even high fives are suspect. I should, for my own job security and need to C my own A, not acknowledge in any way that I feel emotion...even one I consider to be a completely human and 100% normal.  This is hard for me.  I've been a nurturer all my life - I parented my friends in high school and college until I had children of my own.  I can sense what a person needs - whether it's affirmation, tough love, or a turkey sandwich.  So when you put 85 kids in my room, it's like taking a compulsive gambler to a casino but telling them not to place a bet.  It's HARD.  But, as is the case in so many aspects of our job, teachers are held to a higher standard than other people.  While I understand the stakes and respect the circumstances that gave rise to the hands-off rules, I must be honest and admit that it's difficult.  But I do it.  I force myself to go against my instincts, rein myself in, and keep my cherubs, literally and figuratively, at arms length.   

Never is this ban on affection more difficult than at the end of the year.   Kids cry and the mom in me would love to wrap them up and stroke their hair while I reassure them that they're going to be just fine.  Instead, I hand them tissues.  They want to hug goodbye.  The mom in me would love to give big bear hugs.  Instead, I offer an exploding fist pump.  Is it the same?  No.  Is it enough?  I honestly don't know.  However,  I recently discovered a lovely little outlet that both gives the kids what they need and allows me to feel more honest in the way I'm interacting with my darlings: The Yearbook.

For years, my go-to strategy was to draw devil horns, mustache and goatee on my own picture.  I started adding a signature when kids got sent to the office for being disrespectful.  (That was a fun conversation. "No, Paul.  Tucker didn't do anything wrong.  I drew that. ...  Yes, the hairy mole, too.")  But that was back in the days when it was still okay to lay a gentle hand on an unfocused child's shoulder as a way to redirect them.  This was back in the days when I gave and received daily hugs and I didn't feel the emotional void that I do now.  So now, my yearbooks messages are significantly more personal. 

Please don't misunderstand:  I haven't given up on the devil horns completely.  There are still a good handful of kids for whom it would be almost insulting if I *didn't* deface my picture.  They LOVE devil Cotillo.  And I certainly don't mean to imply that all of my yearbook messages now are inspirational missives that will lead the US to victory in the next Olympics.  Quite a  few boys in my B period this year got "You were a pain in the butt in class.  Don't ever visit me.  EVER.  jk.  not really."  But I have decided that these yearbooks are too good of an opportunity to simply let them slip by with a playful scribble.  If I'm going to inspire my kids to love out loud, then I best lead by example.

This year, when our 8th graders were herded into a courtyard and set free to graze and sign yearbooks, I made a deliberate decision and wrote about the uncomfortable stuff.

I told a few that they are beautiful and begged them to believe me.
I told some they were smarter than they let on and begged them to stop hiding it.
I told a handful that I hope my children would grow up to be like them.
I wrote that I admired their courage, compassion, friendships, independence, insight, sense of humor, effort, and growth.

Most of my inscriptions ended with a drawn heart.  Some ended with the word "love."  In the books of three students I went all out and wrote the words "I love you."  

There is a very real possibility that I'll never know what impact those words have on my kids.  Maybe they don't need it as much as I sense they do.  But then again, maybe it really helps.  I can, however, share this wonderfully timed story.

I began writing this post on a Tuesday night.  It began as a jumble of unrelated thoughts about the end of the school year and somehow I found myself writing about the "L" word.  I left it unfinished and sent Erin a text to let her know that it was "more a brain dump than anything."

The next morning I took my son to swimming lessons at the YMCA.  (Living in the town where you teach is not for the faint of heart.  I once had a former student sell me a pregnancy test at CVS...no lie. But there are moments that make it all worth while.  This is absolutely one of them.)  So I'm sitting on the bleachers next to the humid indoor pool, wiping sweat from under my glasses, when I hear a voice ask, "Are you crying?"  It's Mia, a girl I taught six years ago.  She was my student "back in the day," and that girl loved to hug.  I will never forget how she would barrel into me.  I swear she got a running start.  When Mia hugged, she hugged HARD.  Just writing it makes me smile.  How could anyone be in a bad mood after one of Mia's hugs?!  But I digress... 20-something-year-old Mia stood before me that Wednesday morning, and she's no longer a bubbly 7th grader.  Instead I found my self chatting with a very confident, well spoken young lady who plans to work in the field of music therapy.  We spoke briefly, she caught me up on her life and I told her how proud I was of all she was accomplishing.  We hugged.  

As Mia bounced away from me, she threw a casual "love you!" over her shoulder.  I called back, "love you, too!"  She turned around, walking backwards so she could see me, and said, "I know."

"Can't"

Erin Explains It All to You. 

You know us pretty well at this point, dear reader.  And one of the first things you probably came to realize about the CRL was either:

1 - we love a good show
or 
2 - we'll do just about anything to get a child to read

Bearing that in mind, Mary and I thought you'd enjoy these two little stories about our recent experiences with the word "can't."

The Good Stuff
Last week, I had the privilege of meeting the new recruits.  Our two feeder elementary schools came to HMMS for the afternoon with the purpose of uniting the present 5th graders as an incoming class, and talking a little bit about what happens in middle school.

Days earlier, the CRL had talked about how best to introduce the new cherubs to the All In! experience.  Certainly, there would be teasing involved.  It's all about The Tease.  Gotta start early to get 'em good and hungry. We weren't sure what our schtick should be this time around.  Last year, I whipped out a sealed envelope during my presentation and told the kids that it held the title of the next book.

The kids LOVED it; the Principal - caught off guard and thinking we had decided on a book without telling him  - was none too pleased.  (He got over it.)

We went back and forth a bit, trying to figure out what to do with an audience full of incoming 6th graders.  We went our separate ways with an agreement to ponder.  Whilst I pondered, a student inquired, "Are the 5th graders coming on Friday?"

"Yes they are!"

"Wait, do you know the title of the book?"

I swear I uttered nothing, but apparently my eyes gave something away, because he stopped in his tracks and said,

"Oh my gosh you know don't you!  The envelope!  Oh you're gonna show them the envelope! That drove me nuts last year!"

And there it was.  We had to do it again.

So on Friday, decked out in my blingy CRL shirt, I spoke about my pet dragon and the Gollum Slalom, of factions and field trips, of toilet paper and exploding muffins, of 689 readers and three unforgettable books. 

And then I showed them what they could not have.  

Sometimes we wish there was a camera following us around, so when we tell you two-hundred kids leaned forward in their seats and all of a sudden wanted something so badly they could think of nothing else - one child literally started pulling his hair out - you could see it for yourself.  It was just magical.  We have them primed.

The first step has been taken for All In! 2015.

We know how to use the word "no."  By telling the kids they can't have something, it makes that "something" so ridiculously tempting, they will focus on little else.  It reminds us very much of last year.  Perhaps the long, drawn-out tease fed into our record-smashing number of participants?  

For now, the envelope sits in protective CRL custody.  We won't tell you what's written on the slip of paper that is tucked inside...but we will have to start locking our doors.

The Terrible-Awful
After that very same presentation, I was approached by one of the 5th grade teachers who pointed to the pile of All In! books in my arms.

"Do the kids read these books independently?"

Nobody tells these girls they "can't."

"Yep, it's all voluntary!"

I heard her exhale. 
Then she said, "But, what about the kids that can't?"

I channeled Mary, laughed a little bit, and said, "Oh, we've never had that problem!"

Unsatisfied, she kept going, "Well, they can't."

Now I knew what this was about.  We've heard it before.  A surprising number of parents and teachers are eager to tell us that their child can't read the book; but for some reason, her comment caught me off-guard.

Things I could have said but didn't:

• We have numbers. Lots of numbers, and a large number of students on IEPs participate in the school-wide read.  

• All In! gets kids reading.

• Positive peer pressure is extremely powerful.

• I'm not in the business of telling a child "You can't."

• Extrinsic motivation begets intrinsic motivation. We call it The CRL Effect.

• Have you READ our blog?

• Um, actually...it's the most popular club for Special Education students.  

• I could fill the next three hours with stories about students' experiences with All In! that would make you weep.

• This works.

• Just go to our website.

• Yeah. We got this.

Instead, I think I said, "Oh, I'm sure they can.  We have discussion groups, and calendars; some kids use audio, or read with their families..."

She wasn't done.

"Well, they don't understand it then."

"Yes; actually they all pass a test. That's one of the key elements of our program. It's really important that they get to have that success."

At this point, I'm sure she looked at my shirt and thought I really was crazy.  Not only do I think kids will read a book for fun, but they are also lining up to take a test?  She turned to leave.

"Well, good luck."
 

Parked outside the IRA14 convention center

I was absolutely boiling, and I couldn't wait to tell Mary.  See, she's usually the one tasked with talking me down when I get fired up about something.  Only that didn't work out so well this time.  See, Mary and I spend an awful lot of time together.  We're totally in sync.  She's a fiery one, that Cotillo, and if her "How DARE she?" and "Why exactly is that woman a teacher?" diatribe made me feel better about my own emotional reaction, it didn't really help shed light on the bigger question: Why did this bother me so much?

  

What, you don't post your notes on Instagram?

We've been reading To Kill a Mockingbird in 8th grade this past month, and these experiences got me thinking about Mrs. Dubose and her advice to Jem about killing camellias.  "'Next time you'll know how to do it right, won't you?  You'll pull it up by the roots, won't you?'"  Mary teaches her students that the camellia represents the growth of racism.  The older generations are the heads of the flower, and the children are the roots.  If you want to rid the world of racism, targeting old folks who have one foot in the grave will do you no good.  You have to go after the kids.  

If this experience doesn't dove tail perfectly, I don't know what does.  The KIDS are perfectly willing to buy in; it's the adults who have prejudices that are hard to over come.

By telling us that we didn't know what we were doing - and already doubting the abilities of our darlings AND our program - this teacher was simply showing her prejudices.  And we took it as one mighty insult.  "How DARE she?"

Now, let me channel my inner Atticus Finch and say maybe she was having a bad day.  Maybe she's come off of a very difficult year and struggling to keep her head above water.  Maybe she has a hard time with social cues; perhaps her question was sincere and she would be horrified to know that we are insulted.  Whatever the case, I don't think she was expecting a response, not one that she was prepared to agree with anyway.  By wishing us well, sincerely or not, she did have the last word.  And that's okay.  While the petals fade and fall, we'll be nurturing the roots. 

Now we'd better run.  We have another school-wide read to plan, and a few hundred middles to get ready for their biggest challenge and greatest victory.

Just watch.