Somehow, I actually managed to finish my cross country and complete my PPL requirements, and -- thanks to some cooperative friends --pull off a birthday party and Bon Voyage Breakfast and get everyone out the door and to the airport to catch our first plane to Miami, enroute to Buenos Aires!

This is where I excuse myself from this Blog, and invite my readers to follow me here instead for the next few months.

Will be back here in December.  Have a great fall, everyone!

After supply teaching in a Grade 2 classroom the other day, I had a chance to catch up with a colleague from my old school at the end of the school day. 

Among other things, we commiserated about how so many students seem to be struggling in math.

Even with the availability of math manipulatives in the classroom, even with engaging lessons taught on the Smart Board, many of the students seem already by Grade 2 to have major gaps in their mathematical understanding.

And it's not just an "ESL student population" problem. I thought of the Grade 5 student I tutored this past summer, and how surprised I had been at her apparent gaps, too.  A native English speaker from an upper-middle class household, this child was an average-to-above-average reader, speaker and writer, but when it came to many mathematical concepts, she panicked, and had already developed a self image that included not being very "good" at math.

Math phobia seems to be at an all-time high, with students as young as Grade 3 proclaiming, “I’m no good at Math”.  Or maybe I am just more in tune with this phenomenon because of my own focus on Math last school year.  In any case, there seem to be a lot of missing pieces for a lot of students, and, as I become familiar with a wider variety of students’ individual situations, I am beginning to develop a better understanding for why that might be.

I used to think that a major problem with math instruction was that teachers themselves often don’t really understand the math they are supposed to be teaching according to the curriculum.  (That certainly applies to me, though in recent years I am becoming more math proficient.)

Increasingly, however, I am beginning to wonder if...

I knew I had arrived in the right classroom when I read the pink sticky note left for me by the home teacher: "Vera, chocolate is in the bottom right drawer -- please help yourself"!!  (I did!)  :-D

I was back at my old stomping grounds, filling in for a Grade 2 Teacher today; being on leave allows me to supply teach up to a certain number of days, and I've availed myself of this opportunity already before we head off to Argentina next week, teaching Grade 7 on Tuesday and now Grade 2, today.

It was a bit odd to be back at the school and not in my own classroom.  But the novelty was soon overcome with the busy-ness of the class I was covering, and the day whizzed by.

We read together, looked at some treasures I had brought from the beach in PEI, made some patterns in math, sang a song, and wrote a letter to the primary teacher.

I was pleased to have the opportunity to chat with some colleagues from last year, and I enjoyed working with the students.  But spending the day here confirmed for me how much I want to return to my Intermediate roots if possible, once I go back to a classroom full time.

Just a few days ago, I was waking up in a big, comfortable bed with a premium mattress after sleeping in the blissful silence and total darkness of the PEI countryside.  If I saw anyone at all during my days in St Peter's Harbour (and for many hours at a time, it was not uncommon to NOT see anyone out there), we smiled or nodded as we passed one another.

Now I am sleeping on a single air mattress on the floor, surrounded by light and sound: light from the master bedroom closet of our host, who likes to sleep with a light on, spills down the hall and interrupts my sleep, as do the endless city lights from the parking lot outside, the park next door, the street lights and lights from the apartments in surrounding buildings.  The streetcar whizzes by every 20 minutes... noisy revelers yell outside in the parking lot... there are no crickets here at night, or, if there are, the city soundscape drowns them out!  


My clothes are in boxes, and in suitcases (some marked "Argentina", others marked "winter/Vus/PEI") and in a pile next to my mattress.  My kneeboard is missing, and I can't find an empty surface on which to "stage" the next three days' materials.  The kitchen is not my own, and I can't find the groceries I need to make the food I want.  My chequebook is lost again (and there's no money in my acct anyway, since I am "unemployed" for the year), I can't find a clean pair of underwear, and there always seem to be doors opening and closing as people come and go.

I miss the gentle island, where there is space, and silence, and fresh air.

On the upside, I got to go flying today!

HOW?  How is it possible that in less than three hours, I’ll be airborne, and enroute back to Toronto again?

How, when the summer has only just started, when just yesterday I stepped off the plane from Toronto and into the fresh Island air, it is possible that I find myself sitting in a Muskoka chair on the deck one last time, one final grilled cheese with guac and tomato on multi-grain in hand, looking out into the distance, admiring the harbour set against the backdrop of multi-chromatic verdure of Greenwich, and the open seas beyond?

The house being built next door has a roof on it now -- when I arrived “yesterday”, it was just a one-storey frame.  The lupin have all gone to seed -- when I arrived, they were barely noticeable.  There is a definite fall chill in the air… when I arrived, the promise of summer was still on the horizon.

I gobble down my sandwich and head out to the music cabin for one last kick at my drums; I get to play so rarely; must make the most of my headphone-and-iPad-driven 80s throwback!!

And now, the laundry is done… I toss everything into the closet, latch the last window, lock the doors, trudge unwillingly out to the car to make my way to the Charlottetown airport…

But this year, I’m coming back!  I’m coming back at Christmas, to spend my first holiday on PEI.  The landscape’ll look a little different then, true enough... nevertheless, it’s a little easier to say goodbye this year, knowing I’ll be back a little sooner!

With the exception of the year I taught full time at Tyndale's Dept of Education (and that might not really even be an exception, since I still had a "class", technically speaking), this is the first time in my career that I have not spent the first day of school in, well, a SCHOOL!  Or at the very least, in a Board office, logged onto a Board computer, thinking about and planning for a school!

Particularly curious is the fact that while I was supposed to have been enjoying a final day at the beach before heading back to Toronto (I'm still in PEI) to do some last minute packing and tying up of loose ends before heading off to Argentina for the year, I am instead holed up inside on a wet, cold, miserable Island day, working on LESSON PLANS, LOL!!!

Yep, just spent the last three hours mapping out my first week of "school" for Argentina, where I'll be primarily home schooling Alex and Simon.

It is a singular experience to have such a long stretch of uninterrupted time to plan in peace -- no announcements, no colleagues coming in to borrow stuff, no custodians chasing me out of the building... kind of nice, but a little strange, too.