One San Ramon, Our San Ramon

For The Mayor’s State of the City Luncheon, February 12, 2013
When Richard Blanco was named as the 2013 inaugural poet, the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Tracy K. Smith said that the White House had made an ideal choice, citing the scope of his poems and “their beautiful fidelity to private experience, to place, to community and to a complex sense of self.” Here’s my favorite section of the poem, the powerful last lines that Blanco delivered on that biting cold day in Washington last month.
And always one moon
like a silent drum tapping on every rooftop
and every window, of one country—all of us—
facing the stars
hope—a new constellation
waiting for us to map it,
waiting for us to name it—together.
Those words have been swirling in my head for weeks, and inspired this poem:
One San Ramon, Our San Ramon
by Kathy Moore, San Ramon’s Poet Laureate

Every day, I step outside under the blue-black sky of early morning
Bare feet, cold concrete
The local paper waiting silently
Flung there by some mysterious unseen hand
I pause to look above,
Count the stars, name the ones I know,
Polaris, Ursa, Orion
And whisper a grateful thanks to the ever-present moon
Changing shape each night as it dances across this winter sky

How lucky we are to live in this valley
In the shadow of Mount Diablo
Where pioneers and farmers and family men
Stopped to plant and build and grow
Laying the foundation for this time and this place we love
This place we know as home

Home to tenth-generation Californians, and next generation citizens
All united in our love of this place,
Quality schools, welcoming churches and a cathedral of fresh air
Here we give thanks for plentiful parks and fields and miles of trails,
Rushing streams that appear after big rains,
And hillsides flecked with wildflowers and families
We worship light poles dotted with sentry-like hawks
Shady-treed medians and wide-open spaces
festivals and fireworks and farmer’s markets
places to greet and gather and return to often
reminding us all of our shared sense of pride
Our community and commitment
Our San Ramon, One San Ramon
Home

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Making Connections

This morning, flying across the country to an education conference, I’m eavesdropping on the conversation between my two seatmates – strangers an hour ago, now steeped in a conversation about life and learning. He’s talking about transistors and electronics, and she’s asking probing questions, thinking in metaphor, and making broad connections to the way the brain works. He’s drawing models in her notebook as he talks, then she takes the page, and continues to question, covering the page with words. It’s a fascinating conversation and I’m suddenly grateful for this uncomfortable seat on this long flight.

Their conversation takes me back to the learning that I experienced at another conference I attended earlier this year. That was a gathering of more than 1300 University Professors and Educational Researchers from around the globe. The sessions offered a broad range of topics and disciplines, and although I am a literacy specialist, I found myself drawn to sessions outside of my field, outside my comfort zone. Curiosity is a powerful motivator.

At this conference, Sandy Gillis of Simon Fraser University in Canada taught a session on image and insight. There were only a handful of us in the room; Gillis sat in a circle with the participants, a marker in her hand, a white board beside her. Over the next two hours, she guided us through the process of solving mathematical puzzles, paying attention to the moment we discovered a pattern, or solved a problem, noting that we each felt a physical, visceral response in that moment. The puzzles grew increasingly difficult, but we continued struggling through the process until we would reach that moment of insight necessary for authentic learning to take place, a practice that has grown much less evident in public school classrooms over the past decade or so.

The following day, one of the sessions I attended featured a review of literature dealing with the process of concept mapping in mathematics, presented by Vito Ferrante of the University of San Francisco. He shared the pedagogical differences between expert and student generated concept maps, illustrating the research that shows how learning sticks when students make connections themselves. A concept map is a visual organization and representation of knowledge, showing the relationships among ideas. This is certainly not new thinking, but one that I’ve been exploring lately as I wrestle with the instructional shifts necessary to make the new standards, invoked by the language of the Common Core, meaningful and worth the effort for teachers. These shifts require a bit of faith – they veer us off course from the comfortable realm of the traditional classroom to the more uncharted terrain of inquiry and discovery learning.

These conference sessions got me thinking about the graphic organizers (a form of ready-made concept map) that we often give to students to scaffold their learning. I was considering how they might in fact be detrimental to the learning process, limiting understanding and disallowing insight. This thinking supports work I did last year with elementary math teachers where we were introducing students to the idea of equation without numbers based on the eight mathematical practices in the Common Core State Standards. At first we gave the students this type of organizer, _____ + _______ = ___________. In the second go round, when we instead gave them a blank sheet of paper, they began adding many variables and doing much more sophisticated work than just filling in the blanks (for example, a fourth grader wrote “rythem [sic] + sound + mucseles [sic] + mind + tap shoes – music = acapella (tap dancing without music. You ARE the music.) Students were experiencing the relationships among variables in a math sentence prior to working with the numbers, a process that supports understanding beyond rote memorization.

Back to the conference. When it ended, while waiting in line for the shuttle, I was eavesdropping on a different conversation between two college professors from the Midwest. I was struck by their passion and their intellect. One of the professors was holding a book, and I strained to see the title, which turned out to be Creating Innovators by Tony Wagner. If someone so smart and so passionate was reading that book, I thought, it certainly merited a look. Based on her unspoken recommendation, I bought it the next day.

That, I think, is education in its truest form. We’re curious, we pay attention to the world, we act, we learn, we grow.

These days, all across the U.S. we’re working hard at making sense of the Common Core. I’m heartened by the lively conversation around instruction and student learning, but at the same time, I’m wary. There is much room for misinterpretation and misappropriation. The challenge for all of us will lie in how to foster curiosity, how to teach the art of paying attention, how to inspire students to act with intention, how to encourage them to be responsible for their own learning, and how to support an environment where we all continue growing as learners.

It is by no means an easy task, but it is crucial.

In the Wagner book, he explores many interesting questions and shares stories of the paths that led innovators to innovation. For me, one of the most innovative concepts is Wagner’s placement of QR (Quick Response) Codes throughout the text. There are numerous embedded codes linked to supplemental information, beginning with a short video clip of Thomas Friedman and ending with a link to a regularly updated website of information beyond publication of the book. I started thinking about the changing face of literacy, our broadened definitions of text, and the power that we could give students by introducing them to the idea of creating codes and embedding them into their work; for example, an argumentative essay with embedded statistics, articles, videos to substantiate their claims, much as Wagner does in his book.

Recently, I was working with a group of eighth grade teachers. They teach the book Whirligig at the end of the year, and they were thinking about how to make their teaching more aligned to the standards. We had done some work with concept mapping, and they started exploring ways that they could incorporate that into their teaching – perhaps growing a concept map together as a class, or maybe by letting the students explore their thinking and the connections that occur to them as they move through the text. They could start with a character, or a theme, a question, or anything else that they were interested in exploring. The teachers were having the same kind of insight in their collaboration as the afternoon wore on that I experienced in Sandy Gillis’s session at the education conference. They started concept mapping their own thinking and the room was filled with energy and wonder.

At some point, I mentioned the Wagner book and I explained a little bit about the thinking I had been doing with embedding QR codes into student work. A proverbial light bulb went off in Jordan’s head and she blurted out, “They could add these to their concept maps if they want. “ Two great things were happening in that moment:
1) A group of teachers were actively engaged in the kind of work that they should be doing with students – learning based on inquiry, discovery, insight, synthesis, analysis, exploration…
and
2) “…if they want,” Jordan said, supporting that foundational idea of choice as a motivator, and of doing the work that authentically supports learning, rather than doing an activity to simply perform on a test or meet a teacher requirement for a grade.

The work we’ve done with the standards to date highlights the radical shift in instructional practices that ALL teachers are being asked to make. We’re asking teachers to see themselves as scholars and researchers; in order to move their students to higher levels of thinking, they must engage in higher order thinking as well. This is less about materials and more (much more) about instruction. It requires time for thoughtful collaboration and inquiry.

Recently our district office received a box of materials that purport to support common core. Reading through the texts, it looks a lot like the same old same old to me. I noticed several short reading passages followed by a page of questions, with little effort to introduce higher order thinking or collaboration. As an educator, this worries me. Business as usual will not help our students become thoughtful, involved, informed, empathetic contributors to the human race.

These are exciting times in education. Our job is to live wide-awake lives, to pay attention (perhaps to eavesdrop), and to teach our students to do the same.

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SPARE CHANGE

NOTE: I wrote this in January, 2004. With the exception of the long-cancelled tv show reference at the end, it remains timely and relevant…

The day after Christmas, my daughters and I went to San Francisco to ice skate.  In years past we had so much fun in Union Square during the holidays, and so we had planned a day. What we didn’t know was that the rink had been moved to a new location. When we climbed the steps and saw people walking where the ice should be, we laughed at our foolishness and decided to move to Plan B.

We came to skate, but it didn’t matter. This was Christmas. This was San Francisco. Blessed, unpredictable life!

We posed for pictures by the decorated tree, pretend-skated across the square, stopped to watch the silver men, and looked in vain for the San Francisco twins. Then we went wandering.

We wandered the streets like the tourists that we are, looking in the store windows, caught up in the jostle and joy of the season. Threading our arms through each other’s like skaters, we glided down the city sidewalks. We needed nothing more than just being together on a crisp blue day in this crowded city, a BART ride away from our quiet suburban lives.

We headed up Geary.

The homeless are everywhere,

Sitting on the sidewalk with their cardboard signs.

Propped in open doorways, wandering the drugstore aisles.

I forget.

I live my quiet life. I raise my family. I take care of my business, and I forget.

The homeless are everywhere, hands out, piercing me with their looks of hunger and need.

When I go back to my quiet life, they will still be here.

Waiting. Hands out.

After the first few encounters, I start to harden.

I feel winter’s sharp sting.

I am not skating.

An old woman approaches. She is so wrinkled and frail, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She makes eye contact and I reach into my pocket, pull out a handful of change. I press it into her hand, so small and warm.

She holds my stare.

“It’s not enough.”

So matter -of -factly, she says it.

I pull my hand away, herd my daughters up the street.

“It’s not enough.”

She follows after me.

When I was young, my grandfather used to tell us the story of how he fed the beggars at the back door during the Depression.  These beggars would leave a mark on their way out, alerting others that this was a home where you could get a bowl of soup or a hunk of bread. He had us all convinced that one of the beggars who came to his door was St. Joseph. For years, our family celebrated March 19, St. Joseph’s Day, with a simple meal and a retelling of the story of his visit to my grandfather’s house. As I grew older, I doubted the story, but embraced the message of sharing what little you have.

Now I don’t have a little, I have a lot.

And I gave an old woman a handful of coins.

A few days later, my daughter Kerry was re-reading the family Christmas journal that we add to every year.  She called to me when she got to a familiar place.

“Listen to what you wrote when I was little,” she said.

There in the journal, years ago, I wrote about all we have to be thankful for. Then I went on to recount all we were doing for others during the season of Christmas: the giving tree at church, the adopt-a-family at school, all the little rituals we do to feel like we are making a difference. At the end of the passage, my words echoed in my daughter’s mouth, “It’s not enough.”

“Mom,” she said, “maybe she was a messenger.”

Maybe we’ve been watching a little too much Joan of Arcadia, but when I close my eyes I see her looking at me so directly.

You have everything, her eyes say.

Remember me.

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Monarch Grove in Winter

monarch

It’s the first day of the new year. Last year I greeted the morning with a walk on a labyrinth, repeating my new year’s mantra, “Peace. Patience. Kindness. Strength.” A phrase I repeated over and over throughout the year. But, this is a new year. We went to the Monarch Grove at Ardenwood, to see the place the butterflies winter. A miracle of nature.

This week I read Barbara Kingsolver’s new book Flight Behavior. I read it, reflecting all the while on human nature, insect nature, the power of love, forgiveness, family, determination, science, nurture, patience, and faith. It’s a unique and talented writer who can layer and weave so many stories into one compelling tale of past, present and future, rebirth and redemption. When I finished it, I had a new appreciation for the power of the written word to reveal the deepest truths about our own flawed and salvageable hearts. And I was in awe of the amazing, migratory creatures who follow a predetermined path for survival. What do their lives reveal about us?

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Thoughts Around the Tree

San Ramon Tree Lighting

One of my first duties as Poet Laureate was to present a poem at the annual tree lighting, a night of caroling, light and laughter. Here’s the poem.

Winter, dark winter, comes again to us all
To remind us of what is about to unfold,
This magic connection we share round the tree
Brings us close as we wait for a sign

Our celebration that’s now about to begin
Sets the stage for this season of light
We wait here in joy and in wonder
Celebrate life with family and friends
And all that we have in abundance

We stand here together filled with the hope of those things
Still unknown, still unseen, yet inspired
The promise of wishes granted
Hopes realized
Kindness repaid
Generosity offered
Hearts warmed
Promises kept
Prayers answered
Lights lit
We embrace this festive festival
So peace and love might light this special night.

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Boston Reflections: Through The Looking Glass

Where have you been?

Where are you now?

Where are you going?

Where do you want to be going?

Remember

Story is the most important technology

Stories that matter

Stories that move

This Story, like my daily prayer

What’s your mission?

You need permission to be braver

Storytelling makes the mission transportable

Creativity is generosity and kindness

I dare you to be original

Be ready for your mistakes to turn into wonderful ideas

Ideas dipped in story

Mapping the world by heart

Constellations

Guiding stars

Set your course

Creativity demands constraints

Disciplined freedom

Habitudes

I’m your empowerer

Worthy of the world

An intentional superhero

Failure is my to be list

Can you be incredible here?

We rise and fall together.

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From Here to There and Back Again

This morning, I changed into sweats, laced up my sneakers and headed out the door for a breezy, sunny morning walk. Last Saturday morning I did the same, 3000 miles from here. I walked from my sister’s house to my hometown high school. Stood outside the classroom window where I taught English 32 years ago, Stood for a few moments in the “smoking area” where I hung with my high school friends more than 40 years ago. Then I walked across the street, and headed back to my sister’s home. Time and place swirl in my head.

I had flown East with my youngest daughter to visit my folks over Memorial Day weekend. On Monday morning we headed to the local elementary school to watch the town parade by. I sat between my mother and my brother, both of them shouting out to the passers-by, waving, and smiling and laughing. I hardly knew a soul. And I can’t stop thinking about that.

We left town for California nearly 30 years ago. Raised four children here. Pursued careers here. Made a life here. And I keep wondering. Who would we be if we’d stayed in one place? Which of those people in the crowd would I know, or call friend? What paths would my daughters have taken? Where would they have gone to college? Where would we be now?

It’s unanswerable. In many ways, it’s unimaginable, this other life. We are who we are in this time and place. There and then + Here and now = This life.

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Birchwood Place

Birchwood Place

You can’t go home again

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Another Kind of Marathon

For years I’ve been envious of people who run marathons. Envious and a bit incredulous as well. I mean, the kind of normal coworker, neighbor sort of folks who have regular lives and then decide every once in a while, “I think I’ll run 26 miles just for the thrill of it!” What? Really? I just can’t seem to imagine that.

A few years ago my daughters and I were in Manhattan, staying at my brother Dan’s apartment on Central Park West, right at the finish line of the New York City Marathon. I stood in awe, watching people older than me, and in less than great physical shape, cross the finish line, grinning or grimacing, wrapping their shivering bodies in metallic blankets, one after the other for hours.

All of them had decided at one point that they could do it, should do it, and they did!

Bob has always said that I could do it too if I really wanted to. All it takes is discipline and determination, two things I have in abundance. Nice thought, but it’s just not true. I could not do it no matter how much I willed myself to. I don’t believe I have the right stuff. I’m not up to the challenge.

But lately I have been thinking about a different kind of marathon, one I’ve been training for nearly a lifetime. I’m at mile 25, the finish line so close I can see it from here. I’ve been running an academic marathon, sprinting towards a dissertation defense for the past three years, and next Friday, I will be victorious!

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Winter Conversation

Time is running out
my father said last night
his words dropped with regret
into our casual conversation about the weather

It’s the hard, inevitable truth
that lives in every moment,
propels us forward
with such urgency
and denial, as if we could outrun the clock

On my walk today I imagine
this neighborhood a thousand years from now
tourists scavenging for a shard of glass, a remnant
of this time

They’ll piece together what they can of us

All of this means so much
and nothing at all

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