And some days are a total waste, useless, and extremely frustrating. Yep. That was yesterday.

I'm throwing the towel in on Wednesday and I'm blaming it on the moon. It didn't happen. Everything from the morning traffic, to the Internet issues at work, to the emails disappearing, to the meetings, to the addition of more meetings, to the massive confusion, to the addition of even more meetings, to the miscommunication, to the decision of my IPhone to take on the now-fixed Linda Blair personality of my Subaru (resetting itself, working only occasionally), to the failure to be where I was supposed to be when I was supposed to be there, to the complete neglect of groceries and work needing to be done at home.

It's the moon's fault and I pretty much can say yesterday was a total bust. I did, however, take out the trash. I guess that is good.

I'm hoping today is much, much better. I need some things to go smoothly.

The Tight Rope of Pedagogy/Practitioner Knowledge vs. Content/Expert Knowledge

I am commissioned to teach a content-area literacy course. In it, we read a fusion of research in the field and practitioner knowledge that works in actual classrooms. Perhaps I'm a jerk, but I really do wish there was a better balance between the two. In one world, there is a lot of language and citation, and in the other world, there's a lot of teaching tools with little substance.

It is as if higher education and K-12 schooling are in different universes.

Okay, they are. It is true.

We did a sticky note activity today as it was suggested by a practitioner-based text. This, too, was somewhat supported by a renowned academic text. Sticky notes help young people to communicate.

The problem is, human beings are imps. At some point, most students (kindergarten to graduate school) figure out the "teacherly" game of instruction and it quickly turns into a game of, "Why are we doing this? What's the point? Are you kidding me?"

I wrestle back and forth. My humor as a teacher often chose "game theory" to say, "Okay, here is what the researchers say. I'm a practitioner. I'm giving it a try. Now, what do you have to say? Are we learning?" From there, I learned what worked and didn't work.

My point? There is no solution that is effective with all learners. I can have all the teaching tools in the world to effectively reach learners in my class. At some point, however, there needs to be content. There has to be something that we're actually teaching and it can't be a pedagogical exercise alone.

Now, with that said, I had a man ask, "But how do we know what content to measure? Do we test students and say, know this, or you can't move on?" I added, "Do we ever have a test that actually measures what we know? Is that possible? Are assessments only a partial measurement of what learners to know?"

I ask this after three Masters degrees and entering at doctoral program. My question was, "How do I have all these degrees, but I 've never been trained in the realm of the "researcher"? This is noted only to point out that even as an educated man I remain truly ignorant. I am insure if tests or papers indicated my knowledge after a particular course. Portfolios, I might argue, were more robust in demonstrating my skills (and the dossier I must keep continues this particular story). Quizzes and tests? Term papers? Not so much...but I did them.

It's a language game, I guess. I had to learn it in the doctoral program so I could enter a new community of 'educated' people. I suppose that is what every teacher does --- provides the vocabulary for entrance into communities students desire to take part in.

BUT (big BUT), a teacher can't only have classroom skills and management. They also need content of what they're teaching. Determining this is the rub. What content? Whose content? And what about the politics of who decides? 42 years and I am still learning, often questioning, "how have I not known this before?"

I 've always put the questions into the minds of my students so they can wrestle with them. My colleagues and I always taught, "Learn everything. Keep an open mind. Stay inquisitive." This, however, contrasts with top down management of curriculum that decides, "You must learn this on this day. Know this on that day." It is silly, actually....if not frustrating and inane.

Where are the questions? How is it countered? What about resistance?

It's a tricky business. I meet people who know a heck of a lot of information, but they can't teach it to others. Then I meet practitioners who master a classroom, but really have nothing to teach. I guess I'm calling for a balance between the two. That's the answer.

So, sticky note pedagogy? It works....for some. For others it is an ultimate FAIL. But, it's advocated by practitioners and researchers....and it is what we have as "effective" at this time. So, last night we used sticky notes to hold our comprehension.

I was bound to POP eventually; I just didn't know I'd get so CORNy on a Monday night.

I will always associate Sunday nights with a bowl of popcorn while watching the Waltons. My mom never buttered popcorn because she worked at the Hamilton Theater and to this day, buttered popcorn makes her feel sick.

As we go older, and a microwave, it was easy to nuke a bag as we watched Roseanne, The Cosby's, or Kate and Allie. My mom, who watched Dallas and Knot's Landing could even be heard popping corn after we went to bed.

I also remember when Grandma Vera popped her corn in Sherburne, as her silver bowls were tinier than my mothers and the pot she used to pop the corn was not as large.

When I went to Binghamton, and in my senior year began to tutor in an adult education program, I made popcorn one night on a stove. A woman said, "I didn't know you could make popcorn without a microwave."

Last night, I came home, ran, looked in the fridge and said, "Ugh." It was already dark, it's cold, and I didn't want to go out to the store. I did, however, have a container of strawberries and horseradish cheese. I ate that, but was still hungry. I thought, "Man. I am going to do it. I'm making popcorn."

And I did. Technically, corn is off limits on this eating regime I'm on, but I walked on the wild side last night and ate a bowl (with salt). Okay, truth: I licked the bowl as if I was a deer treated to a salt lick.

I think popcorn will always be comfort food that makes me feel young and happy. It's not very filling and I'm sure somewhat pointless to eat, but it's delicious, easy, and perfect for those nights when there's nothing else to eat. 

Congratulations, Howard and Alisha! Yesterday was one of the most memorable weddings I've ever attended.

I had the honor of being invited to Howard Jeandenis and Alisha Smith's wedding yesterday in Hartford, Connecticut. Alisha was one of the first individuals I collaborated with upon my move to a new state and we instantly formed a friendship that transcends careers and work. She is an amazing individual who moves, shakes, and realigns the worlds in which she belongs.

Over the last couple of years, too, it has been great getting to know Howard and, more recently, being a part of their son, Hayden's, introduction to the world. The wedding yesterday, however, was one for the record books. When Alicia walked down the staircase singing, "At Last," I knew we were in for a miraculous day. Attendees were instructed to come wearing their best black and gold, and the facilities were stunning for nuptials between two  people dedicating their lives to one another.

Howard's words at the alter, in French and in English, were one inspirational and all who were in attendance could easily see that the two of them found their soulmates. Their families, their friends, and their co-workers appreciated the party.

Even on a Sunday. Even on a Sunday.

Here's hoping that their commitment to one another stands up to the spectacular event they hosted for their wedding. The bride was beautiful, the planning perfected, and the ceremony one of a kind.

I will have more pep in my step for the next few weeks because of the love I witnessed on this very special day. I wish them the best.

Weekend Highlight Thus Far: Running Across a Rubber Spider in My Alma Mater Colors, Blue and Green

I've been caught in a web since summer. The beauty of my job is it's exactly what I want to be doing, but the tragedy of it is the fact that besides my daily hour run, I rarely have time to simply chill out and relax.

This is why I was pumped to run across a blue and green spider today around mile four. Who left this? Is it a remnant of Halloween? Does it know that America totally bypassed the Thanksgiving season and already has all of the stores decked out in boughs of holly? I think Santa Claus is already sitting in the mall taking photographs with snotty-nosed kids.

I had to pick the little guy up- a friend - and I ran with him the rest of the way home, putting it with my other toys and knick knacks that Lois used to laugh at me about: "Seriously, Crandall. There could be a pot of gold or a bag of gum ball machine paraphernalia and you'd go for the junk every time."

Actually, it's the playfulness that keeps me sane in the insanity of all the work always needing to be done. I did attempt an Indian chicken dish, bought Borox to clean pillows (read about this online and had to hunt for Borox at the Big Y), and edited a couple of chapters before I began to plan for the week.

I'm happy about my new friend and I'm sure he will make buddies with all the other plastic junk in my house. Either that, or he'll mate with the real spiders living in all my corners.

Ha! I just noticed that the painting ALICE is behind me in this photo. Kirsten bought that me for a dollar when I first moved to Kentucky - a Salvation Army find...and I still have it hanging up in my bedroom (of course I'm in Connecticut now). Always loved that gift...so simple and easy. So kind. And this was before I met Alice!

Every Once In A While Your Mother Shares a Memory You've Never Heard Before and You Think, OKAY....I Guess

My mother and father are having their upstairs bathroom redone. For a month, my sisters and I have heard about the oddity that it will be that my mom can't take a shower. Then Cynderballz reminded her that she will also have to walk down the stairs to use the bathroom at night.

Uh Oh. She didn't think of that.

This, of course, triggered memories of when my mom lived on Milford Street in Hamilton, New York and how she had a chamber pot to use at night, in which she emptied every morning. I didn't know this until my mom shared a story of the time my Grannie Annie decided to scare my mom coming down the stairs after a long night's sleep. My mother's evening dew flew in the air, soaking my grandma and her and my grandmother sang,

Never say boo, when she comes down he stairs, or else you get pee in all of your hairs (I don't think I caught this exactly, but will change it when I get the right rhyme - I was simply in shock that peeing in a pot was my mother's norm.

This just in (the official AnERip quip):

Never say boo to thee coming down the stairs with a pot of pee. 

Then Cynderballz clarified for me that she and Casey used to pee in bowls upstairs, too, and loved to dump them in the morning. "Um, Bryan. You don't remember? That's the reason we really loved spending the night there. So we could pee in bowls."

I have zero memory of this, but I'm mesmerized at the truth of it. How could I, Bryan Ripley Crandall, not know about this piece of authentic family history? I want to know more. This is the kind of genetic magistracy that keeps me alive and well. I've decided I need to drain my mother of all her stories this holiday season: the good, the bad, and the pee pee. I need to know more.

Peter, I Really Dig the Socks. Actually, I Admire The Work You're Doing With Connecticut Police Force, Too.

Last night, I attended Dr. Diana Hulse and Captain Peter McDermott's book talk on their most recent publication, Policing in the 21st Century. I teased Peter than he purposefully chose a sweater to color coordinate with the Fairfield University backdrop, but then when he sat I realized his socks were even better coordinated. Not too shabby for a retired police officer. And he has competition, too. Diana is one of the most impeccable dressers on Fairfield's campus.

Actually, Peter and Diana have been collaborating for several years on writing a manuscript to fuse law enforcement with best practices in counseling, dialogue and listening - areas really needed in police training, they claim (and I imagine a vast majority of the United States would agree).

Diana and Peter have their presentation down to the "t" and engage audiences with practical advice that works - advice I'm hoping will carry over to Abu Bility when he leaves SUNY Brockport this year with his college degree and looks to build a career in law enforcement (I am thankful to the advice Captain McDermott has been willing to share with him, too).

Of course, the entire drive home from the presentation, I was thinking I would inevitably be pulled over having to deal with an irate officer that I'd have to suggest the book for. It, thankfully, didn't happen though. Instead, I came home, graded, and wrote recommendations.

And now it's Friday.