Jeni Ann Flores

                Six to eight weeks. That’s how long I need to wait for my Flip. Flip is a camcorder smaller than my hand with a USB port that will allow me to take up two hours of video. I will enlist a 9-year old to help me learn to use it.             Nine year olds. Their worlds are digital and global. It’s a scary thought, especially for teachers and parents, that the world these children will face will be vastly different from the world as we know it. Howard Gardner, best known in educational circles for his theory of multiple intelligences, in 2007 wrote “Five Minds for the Future” (required reading in Dr. Maria Ciriello, O.P.’s University of Portland graduate class.) In the book Gardner  mentions four unprecedented trends of globalization that have implications on how we prepare children for the future: daily instantaneous movement of capital and other market instruments; movement of more than 100 million immigrants across borders around the world at any one time; movement of a

Maybe it was the movie “Julie and Julia”, where a young wife cooks daily from a Julia Child cookbook. And watching   too many TV episodes of   Top Chef, Barefoot Contessa, Rachel Ray,   and Next Food Network Star (“I’m plating now,” I would shout to my husband from the kitchen).   Or simply   a desire to meet the special dietary needs of my family. The result was   a summer kitchen filled with the aroma of Three Pepper Quiche, Fruit and Oat Pancakes, Chili Con Carne, Scampi Linguini, Zucchini Bread, Pasta Salad Nicoise, Meat Loaf, Broccoli- Cauliflower-Carrot Bake, Salt-Free Pizza, Sweet and Sour Chicken, Egg Fried Rice, Chinese Almond Cookies, Lemon Curry Chicken Salad, Pineapple Fruit Whip, Cajun Pork Chop, Hot Fruit Compote, Barley-Rice Pilaf, Raspberry Streusel Muffins,   Sunshine Carrots, Herb Topped Fish, Moroccan Couscous, Country Biscuits and Gravy, Grilled Chicken Sesame, Cottage Cheese Salad, Strawberry Ice Cream , Chicken Veronique. All these I cooked or baked this summer

           “Teacher may I borrow it again?”             “Again? But Joaquin (name and details have been changed), don’t you want to borrow another book? I have lots of other books you may borrow.”             A thin, six   by eight inch, 18-page book copyrighted by Harper and Row in 1942, “The Runaway Bunny” by Margaret Wise Brown was the only book Joaquin wanted to borrow. It’s old grungy cover belied the dramatic impact it made on the tempestuous seven year old boy. As he quietly went back to work, I wondered what happened to   the boy who used to vehemently push his desk away from him in our daily battle of wills? Where was the boy whose brain used to have a sign that said “Closed”? Or even yet, “Go away”?             It was not until I learned about brain research that I understood what might have happened to   the old Joaquin. It has been said that the brain is like a computer which receives information from the outside. But I believe it is more like a telephone operator of bygone

Epiphany. An appearance of something other worldly or divine. It happened to me one dreary November night at a fast food place. It had been a long day of work, but I had an evening graduate class, and afterwards a meeting. I stopped somewhere for a bite to eat, glad the day was over. But it was not, for there was a surprise lurking between the pages of “Portland,” the award winning University of Portland alumni magazine I had pulled out and started to make greasy as I ate and read. The magazine had reprinted excerpts of the article “In the Abbey” by Brother Todd Koesel, a Trappist monk who wrote about the men of Our Lady of Guadalupe Cistercian Abbey in Oregon’s wine valley, and their labors as book binders for universities, libraries, authors. For over 50 years books arrived which the abbey monks checked, collated, cleaned, marked, measured, trimmed, notched, glued, flannelled, stacked, dried, and covered books. Two million times, and counting. Koesel wrote of the mo

I was going to write about brain research and a runaway bunny. But my brain isn’t working well these days, and my stress level is like a runaway train. And the reason is I lost my cell phone. It was a 2G iPhone I bought from a friend in LA. To the best of my recollection of things I did last week, I most probably lost it as I dropped a friend at a hospital on Tuesday, March 2, around 11:30 am. An honest person would have returned it to me by now. That phone was so important to me. It had all my important numbers and the numbers of fellow teachers at my school. Peer mentoring and collegiality is so critical in my profession. I need to be able to call a teacher friend and say “Johnny did that thing again. I think it’s time to set up a Child Study Team.” “I can’t attend the focus group meeting because I have another meeting.” “Can you watch my class while I run to the bathroom?” “Do you have extra strength Tylenol?” That phone was important to me because I use it to call my students’

Matthew was the Bouncer. His fist was ready to settle all and any problem. Mark was the Scowler. He could hold a scowl a full hour when offended. Luke was Despair personified. He dealt with difficulties by bowing his head on the desk in woeful despair. John was Paralysis – he would sit and pout all day, even skipping lunch, when something upset him. Obviously there were other things going on with these children than just having a bad day or waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Making these children learn was a daily challenge. And for the first four months of one school year nothing I tried by way of incentive – positive or negative - worked. I scowled back. I offered tickets to redeem for free play time. I gave them stickers. Some days I was so angry and frustrated that I stood in front of the class, and, as James Thurber would put it, begin “to quiver all over like Lionel Barrymore.” Rewards and incentives. It seems a simple matter. But what does research say? There are some

The teacher had been waiting all year to get to that part of the Science book. Finally, there it was for all to see - the picture of a sprouting seed, and inside the seed was what looked like a tiny tree, a harbinger of what the seed would become in a few years. The picture was very much like the seed the students had seen sprout in their paper cups. Only the picture was bigger and more colorful. Then the teacher put a surprising, non-Science spin to it all. “Yes, boys and girls, you are like this seed. Inside you is a great big oak tree waiting to come out,” the teacher said. The students’ eyes grow like saucers. “Someday you will be firefighters, soldiers and pilots, doctors and teachers, presidents of your own companies, artists and writers and columnists.” The children murmur among themselves. “You will get a job. Some of you will get married, be mommies and daddies, and you will buy Pampers for your babies.” There is a ripple of giggles. Boys start punching each other sh

Alex Sablan came up to me hugging a big plastic container. The first grader was willing to share some of his cherished possessions with me. I bent down to look. Inside were five happy geckos. “Which one do you want, teacher?” It was that kind of school and I was that kind of teacher. So without batting an eyelash, I pointed to the smallest gecko. So I can grow him myself, I said, winking at Alex. You might find yourself with some spare time this Christmas break. Here I am as Alex, sharing not prized bugs, but suggested reading for the holidays. 1. Lateral Thinking: Creativity Step by Step by Edward de Bono There are two kinds of thinking – vertical and lateral. With lateral thinking you do not eliminate any idea, no matter how wrong or outrageous it seems at first, until you come up with a solution to a problem. The author helps the reader, especially teachers, use lateral thinking for personal interest and as basis for classroom teaching. He helps teachers come up with bette