Plant it, and they will come.
Soup and Sandwiches
Tue, 24 Dec 2024, 11:53 AM (-06:00)
1. Lunch
The Soup Peddler is a small place — just a shack on a busy corner beside a strip center with a small covered patio and a small fence-enclosed greensward. There are picnic tables on the lawn and a ping-pong table under open sky. It’s an Eden in the city.
Trudy and I stopped there for lunch yesterday. We ordered soup (of course) and apple/muenster grilled cheese sandwiches.
The Mulligatawny made me think of Akshay. He and I used to go there for a break from writing Scala code. He and his family moved to Costa Rica years ago where he lived the dream, put his computer aside for years, and is now a true believer again.
2. The Tutor
The air was a bit brisk, so Trudy and I sat on the patio under deliciously warm propane heaters. To be fair, our notion of brisk likely differs from many. Still, the warmth felt good, and in the event we weren’t alone.
After ordering her lunch at the walk-up counter, a woman smiled and sat down beside us. I was on a bench holding Izzy on a short leash. Trudy was on a bar stool.
“May I pet your dog?” the woman asked.
“Of course,” Trudy said. “Her name is Izzy.”
The woman smiled and whispered to Izzy. She mentioned her dogs and parenthetically a cat. Gradually the conversation revealed that she was a math tutor. (Like that’s just how a conversation with a stranger would go, right? Are you a math tutor? Why yes, I am.)
3. Shared Thoughts
I looked at the woman in silence for a moment. She waited for me to speak.
“Do you…,” I started out, thinking it silly. “Do you tutor Austin High students?”
“Yes I do!” she said after a moment, and she mentioned a name. “Is she a student of yours?”
“She is!”
We talked about the student. We talked about teaching high school students. About the importance of taking notes. Staying organized. How it’s hard for them to catch up if they fall behind.
We could have talked about so much more, but a face appeared in the window at the counter, pushed out a to-go bag, and called out a name.
“That’s mine,” the woman said as she stood up. “It was nice to meet you.”
4. Small World?
Who would think it? I thought at first. What a small world, right?
Except no. This happens frequently now, unlike when I taught in Bastrop County.
One of my students lives five houses down the block and honks as she drives by. Another works at the YMCA where we go. We have found ourselves sitting next to my students and their families at a pizza place. A student of mine has said hello from the corner of a sandwich shop. I saw one in Pease Park in the dark with his family as we all carried our lights at the solstice celebration three days ago.
The wonder of working close to home.
Golden Oreos
Mon, 23 Dec 2024, 02:07 PM (-06:00)
After all the students had the final exam, scratch paper, and the factor sheet. After they got out their cheat sheets. That is when the test started.
I slowly walked around and between their desks, looking over their shoulders, gazing across the room, turning to look behind me. And then I added a word of caution.
“If I see any wandering eyes, I will give zeros to both people.”
This is generally sufficient. (Well, that and the fact that adjacent students had different versions of the test.) With that warning in place, they all seem to focus just one what’s in front of them.
“And another thing,” I added. “I’m going to pass out Oreos.”
They turned to look, most with smiles on their faces. I held the blue and yellow packages up in the air.
” I have regular and golden. When I come by your desk, if you’d prefer Golden Oreos, the code is I’m golden.”
They laughed.
In the end, only a few wanted Golden Oreos—out of 150 students, maybe a dozen. This is consistent year after year. They love the chocolate, and I confess I just don’t understand it.
As a result, as I speak, a open leftover pack of Golden Oreos beckons from the kitchen counter.
Not-So-Silent Solstice
Sun, 22 Dec 2024, 10:03 PM (-06:00)
photo credit : The fair and industrious Trudy
Not-so-silent Saturday sunset on the solstice with Minor Mishap.
The Value of Q
Sat, 7 Dec 2024, 09:26 AM (-06:00)
I dashed out of my room heading to a meeting and almost bumped into two girls in the hallway.
“Hello Mr. Hasan,” one of them said, waving her hand with a smile on her face.
I tilted my head. “Do we know each other?”
Sadly, this happens often. So I just ‘fess up to not remembering students when I don’t. And if I should, I further confess that it usually takes three embarrassments to force the neurons to finally retain names. We all get a chuckle out of it.
“No,” she said, “you don’t know me.”
“So… how do you know my name?”
“I’ve heard about you.”
Oh oh.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Irqat,” she said (or something like that).
At this point we were in the main hall. They were going left. I was headed to the stairs in the other direction.
“Is that with a q or a k?” I asked loudly as the distance between us grew.
“A q,” she said.
I stopped and turned and pointed. “And it’s the q that makes the difference!”
“Mr. Hasan,” she shouted. “You get it!”
On the value of q, I suppose I do.
Googling Around or Not
Wed, 4 Dec 2024, 07:18 PM (-06:00)
“Can you help me with test corrections?” he asked.
“Of course,” I said. “But I’d like you to do some work, first.”
Then I gave him some examples of what I meant.
You may use your notes, or the copies of mine. You may work together with friends. You may use the Desmos graphing calculator or one of the TI-84s here in the room. You may use any online resources you can find including Googling around …”
“Mr, Hasan,” he interrupted. “What does Google around mean?”
Wait. What!?
© jumpingfish by David Hasan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License