Slice of Life August 27, 2013 – Searching for Fireflies

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hosted by Stacey and Ruth

There are almost no fireflies in Colorado, so when we travelled to the East Coast this summer, I was bound and determined to find some to share with my three year old daughter Clara.  I remember being a child, running around at dusk with my brother and cousins, watching the magical bugs blink on and off, the humidity heavy in the air and a feeling that I was someplace new.  I recall catching one and having it light up in my hands and my amazement of these little creatures.  I wanted to see Clara’s eyes light up brighter than the fireflies and see her face in that moment of surprise and wonder that I have grown to love when she “discovers” one of the joys of the world.

So as dusk fell at my aunt and uncle’s house near Boston, we went out every twenty minutes searching for fireflies.  We’d make a circuit around the house, over the lawns, through the gardens of flowers and along the path that we called “the secret passage” because it was so narrow and the bushes hung overhead almost blotting out the sky.  We found no fireflies, but we discovered frog lawn ornaments, flowers we had never seen before, new smells, pretty rocks and some great sticks that became magic spelling wands.

Two nights later, we were in a state park in Portland, Maine at my cousin’s wedding reception.  As Clara tired of the adult dinner conversation under the large lawn tent, I took her for walks on the grounds, looking for fireflies in the gathering darkness.  Once again, the fireflies were hidden away, but we stalked woodchucks and tossed them apples that had fallen from the trees so we could watch them eat.  A flock of wild turkeys, a mother and six juveniles, strutted out of the underbrush and chased down grasshoppers on the lawn.  The stars emerged from overhead and the reception tent looked like a fairy castle, lit up from across the way.

Tomorrow, twenty-two students will enter my classroom to start another school year.  We just completed two solid days of parent/student/teacher conferences, talking about goals, plans for the year, subjects to be covered and hopes and dreams for this year and beyond.  I know we have goals we may not reach, standards that may not be met, and dreams that may not be completely realized.  We are starting a journey, in search of our own metaphorical fireflies. 

If I were to measure my summer search for fireflies with Clara against the standard most public school teachers are held to, I was an “Unsatisfactory” parent.  We were searching for fireflies and did not find single one.  But was that wasted time?  We discovered and learned so much!  We explored, shared, touched, observed, laughed, played and loved where we were and the moment.  Fireflies were only the excuse for that exploration.  If we had found fireflies that first night, the first time around the house, would we have gone out again?  Think of what we would have missed.  I’m all for having goals in my teaching and my students’ learning, but I must remember to not be so myopically focused on what I hope to find, that I miss what we discover.

Slice of Life - July 9th, 2013 Starlight on my Birthday!

Ruth Ayers and Stacey Shubitz 
host "Slice of Life"  on their 
website twowritingteachers.com

On my birthday last week, I was lucky to be camping in the Sand Dunes, in southern Colorado.  That morning, at three AM, I had ignored my bladder long enough and stepped outside to take care of business.  I guess the days of sleeping through the night are mostly gone.

When we went to sleep earlier that night, clouds covered the sky and the gusting wind was causing the tent to shake violently.  Thankfully, climbing the dunes had tired out my wife, my almost three-year-old daughter, and me, so we fell asleep as darkness descended. 

As I fumbled for my glasses, a shirt and the zipper to the tent, I noticed the wind was still.  There is a certain feeling that a clear sky evokes on one’s senses while camping.  I tried to quickly but quietly unzip the tent, my anticipation of the night sky and my own natural needs, competing in their urgency for me to hurry.  Emerging from the rain fly, I was greeted with one of the finest bejeweled skies I’ve ever witnessed.  The moon was absent, and the starlight was bright enough to create silhouettes of the campsite, trees, bushes, and the sand dunes off in the distance.  It seemed that I could see each planet, star, galaxy, quasar, and satellite above me.  The Milky Way was spilled across the shimmering blackness and while I was being reminded of how insignificant I was, I rejoiced in remembering how significant the true nighttime sky is to me.