Art, Poetry, Politics, RattleBag and Rhubarb

Shirt

March 25th marks the anniversary of the 1911 Triangle Shirtwaist fire. In Shirt Robert Pinsky weaves in the Triangle Factory fire as he broods over the purchase of a shirt. He dwells with careful loving attention on the technical terms for shirt-making. His lists of esoteric terms and trades lead to moral digressions on Asian sweatshops, the Triangle fire, Scottish…

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Art, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

About Suffering They Were Never Wrong

About suffering they were never wrong, The old Masters: how well they understood Its human position: how it takes place While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;                                                    …

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Poetry, Politics, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

Treasons Greetings: The Ghosts of Happy Holidays Past

It’s politically incorrect to say Happy Holidays these days. We must all say Merry Christmas. No word on the acceptability of Treasons Greetings so I’ll play it safe and stick to Christmas. Religious freedom – it’s a wonderful thing. Just like freedom from religion. Part of making America great again is that we don’t have to worry about other people’s…

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Education, Poetry, Politics, RattleBag and Rhubarb

Two Cheers for Diversity and the Unfinished Work of America: Stronger Together

The NAIS Annual People Of Color Conference opens this week in Atlanta. It will draw independent educators from across the country. They will gather in groups small and large; renew friendships and make new connections; listen to speakers and attend, participate in, and lead workshops and meetings. I am sure it will all be a necessary time of re-dedication, renewal and affinity.…

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Books, Education, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

Goodbye to all that

The first day of my new life as an idle good-for-nothing superannuated coffin-dodger (my brother’s description of retirees) coincides with the centenary of the first day of the Battle of the Somme – a day – and a battle that has long held my interest. Not so much because of the military aspects – fascinating as they are – but…

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Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

The Barrage Lifts

After forty five years it’s time to re-wire! And the start of my re-wirement coincides with the centenary of the first day of the Battle of the Somme. Tomorrow – July 1st 1916 at 7.30 am  – 100 years ago. When I started teaching in 1970 that day, and that war – that cataclysmic break in human history – were…

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Art, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

1915 and The Midnight of the Nations

On Christmas Day 1915 David Lloyd George the former radical liberal,then Minister of Munitions and soon to be Prime Minister addressed a crowd of restless shop stewards and trade unionists in St. Andrew’s Hall, Glasgow. He was there to try and forestall strikes in an area where labor relations were contentious and complicated. He also needed to make the case…

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Education, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb

School Leadership: Working Together and Birds in Flight

Have you ever seen a ton of starlings or red-wing blackbirds swooping about in unison as if they were in some kind of  mechanically choreographed mass ballet? Of course the correct and archaic collective nouns to use there would be murmuration for the starlings and  cloud, flock, grind, or merl for the blackbirds. But whatever – you know what I mean –…

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Books, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb

Paper Cuts: Josh at the Sewing Machine

The first day of alleged spring and another day disrupted by the rituals and routines of early dismissal. By  mid afternoon the buses had come and gone and all after-school activities and athletic practices cancelled. Students and faculty had wisely left ahead of the icy roads. Luz – our wonderful cleaner –  was vacuuming the Kenyon staircase and apart from…

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Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb

The Night Mail

This is the Night Mail crossing the border, Bringing the cheque and the postal order, Letters for the rich, letters for the poor, The shop at the corner and the girl next door. Just watch this clip from “Night Mail” –  the documentary film from 1936 – and be transported to another time, another place. It’s the London, Midland, and…

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Education, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

Modern Learning and the Shock of the New

Here’s something terrific for free: It’s an E-book of great articles from the always useful Educating Modern Learners, an online source with which I am proud to be associated. I’m still working my way through the content – and in some cases re-reading – but no disappointments. These people write well about important and useful topics. See the list below.…

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Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

A Darkling Year or Joy Illimited.

BBC’s Radio 4 first tweet for 2014 was a thrush with a bright blue sky background and a quotation from The Darkling Thrush – a poem that Thomas Hardy dated December 31st, 1900. It’s all rather grim and gloomy. The poem records the desolation of winter, the dregs of the day and the end of the century. This is no…

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Education, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb

The Edge: A sudden unplanned flight of fancy

         Come to the Edge We might fall. Come to the edge. It’s too high! COME TO THE EDGE! And they came And he pushed And they flew. Christopher Logue “Come to the Edge” frequently misattributed to Guillaume Apollinaire Sail in a new direction Simply by sailing in a new direction You could enlarge the world Allen Curnow ‘Landfall in…

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Education, Poetry, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

Darkness and Light

What 60 schools can tell us about teaching 21st century skills. Here’s the TEDx Denver version of the talk Grant Lichtman gave at #naisac13 in Philadelphia. I take my title from an extraordinary compliment that Grant paid Poughkeepsie Day School on his blog where he wrote: “…Poughkeepsie Day School, a school that has preserved the fires of the Progressive Era, un-extinguished, for decades,…

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Poetry, Politics, RattleBag and Rhubarb, WW1

My First and Last Poppy: Evermore and Nevermore

In Memory of Lance Corporal Frank Herbert Sims. Royal Army Medical Corps who died on 28 January 1919 Age 34 Son of Albert John and Rosa Sims, of Streatham, London; husband of Frances Sims, of 115, Strathyre Avenue, Norbury, London. Father of Edith and Kathleen. With the a brief two hour exception last Friday, I have never worn a poppy. This…

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