Slice of Life 2023: 31 of 31- The future of writing?

   It's March, and March is for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

ATTENTION VISITORS: 

If you leave a comment, please include your name in it! So often all I see is "anonymous", and I REALLY want to know who is commenting! Thank you!

Last night I played around with Chat GPT. 

Write an adapted Cinderella story at a grade 3 level where Cinderella decides she doesn't like the prince and like the drummer better, I wrote, skeptical of what the result would be. 

In seconds, here's what I was reading. (You're welcome to skim or skip the story if you're not curious about the story. Take my word for it-- the story was more than decent.)

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Cinderella who lived with her mean stepmother and stepsisters. Cinderella had to do all the chores around the house and never got to have any fun.

One day, the king announced a big ball where all the girls in the kingdom could go and dance with the prince. Cinderella's stepmother made her a fancy dress, and her stepsisters teased her about going to the ball.

At the ball, Cinderella met the prince and they danced together. But while they were dancing, Cinderella saw a drummer playing in the corner of the room. She loved music and was curious about the drummer.

Cinderella left the prince and went to talk to the drummer. They played music together and had so much fun. Cinderella liked the drummer much more than the prince. They danced and played music all night long.

The prince was sad that Cinderella didn't want to dance with him anymore, but he saw how happy she was with the drummer. In the end, Cinderella decided she wanted to be with the drummer instead of the prince.

From that day on, Cinderella played music with the drummer and they had lots of fun together. She didn't need a prince to be happy.

I played around with other prompts as well. Throughout the school day, I had some moments to share some of the compositions with other teachers. One teacher who had not heard of ChatGPT yet was pretty jaw-dropped. 

"How is it doing that?" she kept asking. 

I worked with a student who has been learning English. Write a story at a third-grade level about a boy named A. who learns to shoot a free throw in Ukrainian.  His jaw didn't drop when the program whipped off a story in Ukrainian. On the contrary, his whole face lit up. Text that he could read was appearing in front of him in the form of a story with his name as the main character who was doing something he loved at a level he could read. Talk about responsiveness! 

It seems appropriate to write about ChatGPT for my final slice of March 2023. Something big is happening in the world of writing that will probably have greater impact than any other technological advance in my lifetime. Maybe next year, I'll tell my computer what to write and it will whip it off for me each day of March 2024. No, I won't do that. But, I do wonder how my instruction will look different and how I'll be talking about and sharing the developing tools and programs that change how people communicate. I'm programming a reminder to myself to read this post on March 1, 2024. This post will serve as my own personal time capsule.

And with that, March 2023 SOLSC is a wrap. I've especially loved this month since two of my daughters joined in, and reading about Larkin's and Clare's lives has brought me incredible joy. As has been the case every year, I've reconnected with people and I've also loved paying attention to moments and interactions with greater intention and reflection. 

I'll see you on Tuesdays,

Slice of Life 2023: 30 of 31- A time for precision!

  It's March, and March is for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

ATTENTION VISITORS: 

If you leave a comment, please include your name in it! So often all I see is "anonymous", and I REALLY want to know who is commenting! Thank you!

I was about to start a ride when Julia's text came through. 

While I love that my daughters ask for recipes and have good memories and associations with meals I've made them, Julia and I are very different cooks. She's a scientist. She likes measurements. Like my friend Jen who is a doctor, Julia who is headed for medical school doesn't want to hear "add some". The both want to hear 1.75 teaspoons or 2 1/4 cups or 341.78 grams. If I provided measurements like those, they'd be in chef heaven. (These sorts of measurements are impossibilities for me!)

Knowing Julia's tendency toward precision, I googled a recipe for Penne Buttero. If I didn't know the exact ratios of sausage to crushed tomatoes, someone on the internet must be able to provide it. Even if it's not with the exact ingredients I use. Maybe Julia and I could come to a stylistic compromise. 

I imagined her questioning the rigatoni since I use penne, but it was worth a try. She was more concerned with how many it would feed, and I wasn't sure since I managed to find the one recipe on the internet that gave no indication for how many it serves. Looking at the recipe, I could give a decent estimate of about 4 people, but that always depends on who you're serving. 

Julia's next response was not what I was expecting! 

What? As post-graduate students taking all their pre-med courses at once and studying for the MCATS, those two girls' biggest breaks from studying involve workouts and an occasional game night. They're going to host a dinner party?!?! How great is that?!?!?

I made sure Julia wasn't standing in a Philadelphia grocery store aisle, and then assured her I'd write out the recipe when I got off the bike. I gave her precise measurements and directions-- she doesn't need to know they're my best estimates, although she probably does. 

Precisely, Julia! And once I hear how it comes out, maybe I'll share the recipe far and wide! 

All good things-- especially your doubled recipes! 

Slice of Life 2023: 29 of 31- Yes, I worry, too.

   It's March, and March is for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

ATTENTION VISITORS: 

If you leave a comment, please include your name in it! So often all I see is "anonymous", and I REALLY want to know who is commenting! Thank you!

As I parked by the back entrance to the technology center, I wondered if there would be anyone who would come and let me in. There have been times when I've arrived at this office for a meeting, and I've stood outside the door texting the various people I knew who had offices in this part of the high school building. In the past, I've waited a while. Today, I wondered if I should cut my losses and walk around the building toward the front office. They'd let me in. I like walking. After school, I'd choose to walk a lot further than the front entrance of the school. 

But a new thought crossed my mind. One I didn't like, but I couldn't ignore. 

I don't want to be in the front office of schools. 

Instead of walking to the front entrance, I rang the bell of the technology office, texted the two people I thought might check their phones and come let me in, and waited at the less traveled side entrance of the high school. I found myself wondering how many other educators were thinking about the spaces and the places they prefer to avoid and what they would do, where they would go if anything happened. 

On the way to school, I talked to my mother. "I worry about you in schools," she said. I didn't really acknowledge the statement because I don't want to be the cause of the worry. But I guess the truth is: I worry, too. 

All good-- and safe-- things,

Slice of Life 2023: 28 of 31- A hairy shower

  It's March, and March is for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

ATTENTION VISITORS: 

If you leave a comment, please include your name in it! So often all I see is "anonymous", and I REALLY want to know who is commenting! Thank you!

Black labs are the best. Okie is gentle, enthusiastic, and affectionate. But, he is one heck of a shedder. I find dog hair in the pantry. In the refrigerator. On the windowsills. The vacuum? Full of black hair. The dryer vent? Full. Of black hair. 

Recently, we brought Okie to the local pet store where he was treated to an anti-shedding bath for a whopping $78. Tonight when I came home, I concocted a plan to create a DIY treatment for my boy Okie. The two of us headed to my shower, the bottle of shampoo in hand. 

Okie wasn't so sure about coming into the shower with me, but with the help of his collar and leash, he complied. (He really didn't have a lot of choice in the matter.) I gathered up the old towels, stripped the two of us down, and turned on the hand-held shower attachment. For the next twenty minutes I lathered and rinsed, lathered and rinsed, watching the pile of black hair grow in the shower drain. 

If Okie minded, he didn't let on. He stood while I scrubbed at his backside-- a place where the hair seems to be particularly prone to coming out all over the house. He sat while I worked on his neck and chest, and he refrained from shaking when I placed a towel over him and rubbed him down. 

"You really are a good dog," I said many more times than once. 

Once I finished, I opened the shower door and let him out of the bathroom. He ran downstairs and I listened to my husband laugh at him as he ran around the house like a puppy. My work was far from done though. It might have taken me just as long to clean and de-hair the shower as it did to bathe and de-shed the dog. 

All good things,

Slice of Life 2023: 27 of 31- Extra grateful for food, warmth, and company

  It's March, and March is for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

ATTENTION VISITORS: 

If you leave a comment, please include your name in it! So often all I see is "anonymous", and I REALLY want to know who is commenting! Thank you!

Clare, Larkin, and I are all slicing this month. In the past, Larkin and I have had a few giggles when we both write about the same event but with our own interpretations of it. Somehow, this month has almost slipped by without any of the dual perspectives posts. 

Despite the long walk, the threat of rain, and the chill in our bones, the three of us had some good laughs as we headed toward the parking garage. My fingers wrapped around the parking ticket every so often, making sure it was still there in my pocket, available to remind us of the address (which we were likely to need in this unfamiliar city on this dark night in streets that seemed far too full of parking garages) and also to get put into the machines we'd checked out earlier in the night and pay too much money for a few hours of parking. 

"To be honest," Clare said, "I'm still super hungry." Dinner had been tapas a couple of hours ago. "Those plates didn't get down to my end of the table."

We stopped and placed probably the final order of the night at a Chipotle placed conveniently on our walking route. If the server could have moved more slowly to get Clare her rice bowl, I'm not sure how. Julia and I seized the opportunity to watch the UConn men's team widen their lead on the way to the Final Four. At least they were having a great night. 

Chipotle goods in hand, we continued to the garage, only to find that we were three of MANY who were also on their way to the same garage, forming a winding line that we couldn't find the end of in order to use the automated machines and pay for their parking. 

"I can't feel my legs," Julia said. She was wearing jeans with large holes, and we'd been outside for a while. The walking tour we'd been on (an R-rated historical tour of Philadelphia) had involved WAY more standing around than walking, and, even though we'd cut our losses and ducked out early, we'd had plenty of time to get cold. 

We made the seemingly wise decision to forego the line for a while and find a bar to watch the rest of at least the first half. Isn't is amazing how bars are EVERYWHERE until you're looking for one? The only one we found was loud and crowded. We could watch the game (not listen to it) from a dance floor that wasn't yet dancing. There were not tables or seats. Clare's Chipotle bag was even more tempting than it had been as we were walking in the streets, but we were pretty sure the bouncers and security people would be right over to confiscate any chips that might appear. 

Finally, we agreed enough time had passed to revisit the paying machines. Perhaps more seasoned garage parkers would have known that even though the lines at the machines were gone, there was still a lengthy wait to get out of that garage. At least the Chipotle goods were available and accessible!

The girls were pretty sure I should go right when we were almost out. Until the car in front of us went right, faced a blaring horn, and backed up almost into us since it was a one-way street. I was too stunned to even beep as I backed up in order to preserve my bumper. The person I slipped in front of to get out (okay, maybe even cut off a little) did not have the same horn avoidance, and he continued to blaringly let us know how perturbed he was that I was in front of him as we headed out of the city via crowded one-way streets as quickly as possible. 

We were happy to get back to the hotel for the second very successful half of basketball on a television with volume in beds with warm covers--- and in a room full of great company! 

You can read Clare's rendition of the night here! 

All good things,

Slice of Life 2023: 26 of 31- Looking forward to a meet-up and some dirt bombs

 It's March, and March is for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

ATTENTION VISITORS: 

If you leave a comment, please include your name in it! So often all I see is "anonymous", and I REALLY want to know who is commenting! Thank you!

I can't believe the conference is canceled, the text popped through my phone as I contemplated how hard to push on the upcoming Peloton hill. 

Truthfully, my legs were sore from a too-hard ride the day before, so I reached for my phone and responded, ignoring the instructor's instruction to turn up the resistance. 

The wonder as to why not putting it on a Friday was a good one, and I didn't disagree with the idea. However, as I pointed out, I was not in charge of the event; I was only involved with the event. There's a difference. 

I turned up the resistance and tried to multi-task more effectively, but I appreciated the final text. 

At the end of the ride, I thought about how we didn't need a conference to get together, but life got in the way, and I forgot to respond. Then, as I relived and wrote about the moment, I texted him again.  

We'll get a date on the calendar, and it'll be on our terms, on a day that works for us. I can share my ideas about sentence construction if he's interested, we'll catch up on life and kids, and I'll probably get some great new ideas from him that I wouldn't have gotten if we were only seeing each other at the conference. 

And the extra great thing? I'll get some of those delicious dirt bombs. (Thank goodness for the Peloton!)

* Thanks to Dawn Sherriff for the idea of weaving in text messages into a post. 

All good things, 

Slice of Life 2023: 25 of 31- How I'll miss her

It's March, and March is for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

ATTENTION VISITORS: 

If you leave a comment, please include your name in it! So often all I see is "anonymous", and I REALLY want to know who is commenting! Thank you!

My thoughts spin as I walk toward my car. I've been teaching in a second-grade classroom. The children were enthusiastic. Responsive. Excited to see me. Hanging on my stories and grateful for any feedback I gave them. Instead of teaching small groups, I'd pulled small groups to offer complimentary feedback. 

Look at the transition words the four of you have used in your writing. Between these pieces, I say words like when, a little later, after a while, and next. 

Look at the complex sentences you're using in your writing. You've written long sentences, combining short sentences with the little word and. That's an important thing writers do. 

Listen to the word choices you've made. You've brought your story to life by carefully selecting the exact word to make readers understand how your characters moved or talked. 

Students waited for me to tell them what they should do, and I didn't. Instead, I encouraged them to keep doing the wonderful things they're doing with vocabulary, transitions, and sentence structure. I loved the surprise on their faces for receiving only positive feedback. 

I think about this as I walk to the car. As well as the science teacher who doesn't like the current unit and is rewriting it, but I don't know how to enlist her to support a new teacher who needs a mentor. And I think about how I've been as a coach and if I've done a good enough job teaching a different teacher the components of a minilesson so that she isn't handcuffed to the curriculum, but instead is empowered to teach a purposeful and intentional lesson with clarity which is just what students need on that day. And why are all the students writing the same basic story and filling out the same basic graphic organizer? Thoughts continue to whip around as parents file toward the school, eager to pick up their children and begin the weekend. Everyone is familiar and no one is known, so I stay within my thoughts. 

I am only partially aware of a figure in a green puffer coat approaching me, and my busy brain dosn't pay enough attention as the figure walks into my path and stops short just before I would have crashed into her. 

"Hi!" says S. a favorite parent and a part-time tutor. She smiles, and then laughs when I stop short and gasp for a breath.

My heart races with that feeling of surprise, shock, or fear. "Oh my goodness," I say. "You scared me."

She laughs and puts her arms around my shoulders. "You were in your own world," she says. 

I was! 

"You gave me the story I'll write for tomorrow," I say. "Have a wonderful weekend."

It occurs to me as I watch her walk away from me how much I will miss her when she returns to Ukraine next week. How much I've enjoyed getting to know her. How much I hope she stays safe. 

All good things,

Slice of Life 2023: 24 of 31- A pair of atomic bomb specialists

 

It's March, and March is for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

ATTENTION VISITORS: 

If you leave a comment, please include your name in it! So often all I see is "anonymous", and I REALLY want to know who is commenting! Thank you!

As I walked through the hall headed to the exit doors and my car, two boys were setting up their green screen. The fourth grade has been working through some independent writing projects, and they've had a lot of options in terms of final presentations. 

"What's the topic?" I asked, unable to resist the conversation about anything to do with writing. 

"Atomic bombs," one answered. 

"Whoa," I said. "That's quite a topic."

"We're definitely not sharing it with the little kids," the other boy said, as they continued to prep the video apparatus and test out the image in front of the green screen. 

He held up the paper of writing he was planning to read. A full page of very small print with not a single semblance of paragraphing. (I may or may not have been working with him on paragraphing in his two previous writing units.)

"What happened to paragraphs in that piece?" I couldn't resist asking. 

"Don't worry, Mrs. Meehan," he responded with a grin. "I'll be speaking in paragraphs. I know how to do that even when they're not in the writing." 

"I can't wait to watch it," I said.  And I meant it. 

Walking away from them toward my car and meeting across town, I wished there was someone to talk about their curiosity, awareness of audience, technological savviness, and ability to recover with a response that was more than satisfactory to this writing teacher. At least I can slice about it. 

All good things,

Slice of Life 2023: 23 of 31- My slice wasn't ready, but I guess it is now

 

It's March, and March is for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

ATTENTION VISITORS: 

If you leave a comment, please include your name in it! So often all I see is "anonymous", and I REALLY want to know who is commenting! Thank you!

For the first time this month, I got into bed and realized that my slice is not ready for publishing and sharing tomorrow morning when I wake up. 

My slice isn't ready!! 

I have not even written it or thought about it or verbally rehearsed it. Okay, maybe I thought about it. I had several slice-worthy moments. 

I made scones, and I know Clare would appreciate that. In fact, she'll also get to appreciate them because it looks like I'll see her on Saturday. I helped Cecily with her essay and its focus is on how she wants to be a teacher and I'm scared for her and I'm proud of her. I missed Julia's call and then got Julia's call and then had to make a very long call for her because of a missed payment that had been missed one too many times, resulting in the involvement of a collection agency (WAIT---WHAT?!?!?) Have no fear--that  one got cleared right up, and then, yes, I joined Larkin for a Peloton live ride in the hope that one of us would get a shout-out for #700 and #300. (Neither of us did... ) 

Those were several slice-worthy moments, and there were more, as well. A welcome and surprising email, a cute interaction at the grocery store, a debate over whether or not to make a u-turn in front of a police officer. (I did... are u-turns illegal? I don't think so, and his reaction validated my thinking). A very loud interaction between my should-be-more-fearful small dog and the neighbor's good-she's-gentle larger dog. The latest Ted Lasso episode.  And still... 

My slice isn't ready. 

But maybe it's as ready as it's going to be. 

All good things,

Slice of Life 2023: 22 of 31- There are some issues with Google Translate

 

It's March, and March is for slicing.  Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices! 

  

ATTENTION VISITORS: 

If you leave a comment, please include your name in it! So often all I see is "anonymous", and I REALLY want to know who is commenting! Thank you!

I've been fielding a lot of questions about Google Translate and its shortcomings. Of course it has shortcomings...it's technology! However, for the most part, the good far outweighs the bad. I've been able to communicate far more with A. than I ever thought possible because I can speak into my phone and have my words translated instantly into his language. We use it less and less as he understands more and more, but sometimes, we need to figure out the answer to a question and we can do that fast with a handy little app. 

I was running late this morning, and when I got to A's school to work with him, his class was about to head to P.E., a part of the day he really likes. 

"They're doing presentations in class today," his teacher said. "He might rather work with you. It's going to be a lot of sitting and listening."

I didn't disagree, and I beckoned for A. to come with me. He grabbed his iPad, gave me a smile and thumbs up, and headed toward me. 

We sat down, ready to get to work, but I wanted to make sure he was okay with missing P.E. I'm not always sure he understands "would you rather" questions, so I used my translate app. 

"Would you rather work together or head to P.E.?" I asked. "They're doing presentations so it might be better for us to work together."

"P.E.," he said. 

"You'd like to go to P.E.?" I said, wanting to make sure he understood, but not realizing that the translation app was still in play. 

You'd like to pee? flashed across the screen with the voice in Ukrainian asking the question. 

The two of us burst into laughter. 

"I said P.E., and not pee," I said. 

He knew exactly what I meant, and I walked him to the gym with both of us still sharing a good giggle. 

All good things,