Last Day (Ground Up)

I leave in 45 minutes for the last day of school.
Connections with several students have just started to bear fruit, so it's not great timing for me, but next year I'll have the full run.
At least I'm ending my first quarter-year on a high note.

Example: In my first week, I'd drawn a bookmark of a student’s favorite video character and gave it to him. I never work with this student, but I see him in passing.

On Monday, he said to me in his Mr. Spock-like way, "I have a request. I seem to have misplaced the bookmark you gave me. Would you make me another one?"

I said I would. Yesterday I gave it to him. He said thanks and immediately tucked it into a book in his backpack.

At the bus stop at the end of the day, the aide who works one-on-one with him was all teary. Not only is this kid's family moving out of town, but his parents had called him that very day at noon to say they were leaving tomorrow.
That's today--so he’s missing the last day of class. 

I'm sorry because I like this student—and the aide said he wanted to stay for his senior year.

My contribution, the bookmark, is small but real--a physical reminder that he was seen and liked at this school. (Not by everyone though--he was a Mr Spock who hadn't learned emotional regulation yet.)
__________________

Broken Pencils

Marz wrote me this letter, below, from canoe camp describing the kind of people she loves--and specifically here, me and another friend.
The letter arrived on the same day I'd cleaned out my school locker and brought home the broken pencils I'd picked up. (I'd planned to use them to make art with the students, but I realized that didn't fit them.)

If I were a teacher, this summer I'd be busy planning my class project for next year. I've come up with a year-long class:
"Post-Apocalypse."
Wouldn't that be fun?
 I'd call it something less predictable. Maybe...
Things Could Be Different.

Or, Ground Up. Yes! Double meaning.

It'd cover everything---basic survival (food, fire, and sanitation) to political philosophy.

And education! How--and what?--would you teach kids if society was devastated?
In the book Earth Abides, the protagonist tries to teach reading to the children born after a mysterious human wipe-out--in a schoolroom setting-- but without a larger society, most just don't care.

And entertainment. In Station Eleven, the characters are a traveling band of performers.

I'd want to steer away from the default of "society devolves into cruelty"---everything from the Bible's Revelations to Lord of the Flies to the Walking Dead.

Even though I didn't like A Psalm for the Wild-Built, Becky Chambers does offer a different possibility--
that human society after a die-off could be better.

Could I make this my personal project?
I don't know...
It wouldn't be as interesting as playing it with a class of 15 year olds.

Naw. I'm going to start with the Toy Spaceship--which I have meant to build for YEARS.

Also, next week, June 20, is Solstice. Last year there was a toy parade--they want to do something this year too.
What?
Things could be different!
But then, each parade is different.

Circus parade!

Also, I have a dentist appointment for a broken tooth.