Slice of Life- 8 of 31: Uncovering the news and the moments

      It's March! That means that I am participating in the Slice of Life Story Challenge. I am happy to co-host this event with the team at Two Writing Teachers. Everyone is welcome!

I wish that I had put on a little blush, maybe a little mascara as I stare at myself on the Zoom screen. I almost always have a lipstick nearby so that when I have only myself to look at, my entire focus is not on the wrinkles. I'm sure others can relate to the fact that I've never stared at myself so constantly in a year! 

S. logs on, and I recognize her from the summer workshops. She signed up late for our writing program, and I agreed to meet with her tonight to catch her up. As I remember, she was quiet and took a while to talk last summer. I didn't want her to be intimidated by coming in to the second session without the knowledge from the first one. My memory is spot on. She's quiet, even when it's just the two of us. 

I show her the document. I explain it. She's reading. I can tell from her eye movements. I'm talking a lot. Too much. 

"How about I be quiet, and you read," I say. "I think you'll get the idea."

I resist the impulse to talk for a bit. 

"Does it make sense?" I finally can't help myself from asking. 

She nods. 

I show her the Padlet with several articles students can read as choices. I show her the comments other people have made. I show her how she can make her own comments. 

"Have you used Padlet?" I ask, fairly certain that she has because her classroom teacher has become a friend over the last year of sharing ideas. 

She nods. 

"How about you try filling in a row or two on the document," I suggest. "That way you'll have ideas ready to go on Tuesday."

She looks ready, and I half expect words to start appearing on the document that is open on my screen, shared with her, co-occupied by the pink anonymous antelope. Nothing's showing up, though. 

I have a flutter of uncertainty, and instead of sending her off, I suggest that I give her ten minutes to work on it. I'd stay on so she could check in if she needed. She tells me she's all set. She knows what to do. But she'd like to work on it a little with me still there. 

A couple of minute go by, and she breaks the silence. 

"I don't really have anything to write," she says. "There's not really any news in my world right now."

I nod, appreciating how hard it can be to find news in my own world these days. Husband is painting the basement? Daughter at college sent photos of herself getting ready to go out but the party would be at the house with her housemates? Another daughter worked the all night EMT shift and had her first transport? First vaccination has rendered my left arm useless for the day? 

Together, we talk about some of what's been happening in her own world, in her own community. She talks about her virtual piano recital, the emergence of daffodil tips in Central Park, the practice ELA tests on Zoom settings that are making her nervous, the cookies she baked yesterday. And gradually she uncovers newsworthy stories from her own existence...even now. 

There are many things I love about the SOLSC, but maybe this year, more than any other, it helps me pause, notice, and appreciate the news and the moments that would otherwise slip through my hard drive. Thank you to all of you.