Youtube novice

I just put a 2-year-old video on youtube. A few years ago I was experimenting with a webcam and wrote a song and recorded it. It is about the downside of high-stakes testing such as the PSSA in Pennsylvania and the pressure teachers feel to "teach what's on the test." Here is the url: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4Cec48Mfuw

I want to use youtube to record my parent orientation so those who cannot attend can "meet" me also, and hopefully be more at ease about to whom they are entrusting their children.

August Birthdays

My daughter, Mo, just turned 21 ten days ago. She was born on a Sunday evening, July 31, after 9 pm. Three more hours and she would have been an August baby. My mom said that wasn't allowed--too many August birthdays in our family. Today would have been my dad's 91st birthday. Saturday is my mom's 85th. Both of my grandmothers also had August birthdays. So do a brother and a sister, three nieces and a nephew and my husband. One of my sisters was married in August. It is a great month for celebrations in our family, but today, I am missing Dad.

blackandgold

Each week in elementary classrooms across the country, students are featured as "Star of the Week" or "Student of the Week" and share photos, collections, favorites. My student who was presenting today came to the item of his favorite color and without hesitation said, "blackandgold." None of the students who normally might snip that "That's two colors!" said anything. There was total acceptance of this answer. I looked at the support teacher-aide and said, "Well, in Pittsburgh, that's one color." She agreed.

Aunt Nancy's Chair

It was full of money--so Suzanne said.

She had cancer--Nancy.

She beat it for a while--ten years.

But the osteoporosis caused her so much pain, the fractures just for turning in her bed.

She sat in her recliner.  A lot.

She could get comfortable there.

I don't know how with the 'bulges.'

My husband, Ed, would tease her,

"Can I have your chair when you die, Nan?  You don't weigh much.  It won't have much wear."

He got the chair.  Suzanne, Nancy's daughter, gave it to him, and Ed's addendum of,

"If I'm still alive, Nan, since I know you'll be at my funeral" didn't come true.

We got Nan's chair.  

She used to keep her money in that chair.

She and Jack, her young husband, who died at 52 and left her a widow of 50

had never had more each month than most of us hand to the pizza delivery guy.

But when Sue and husband Dave came to live with her they paid the bills.

And Nancy had dollars to stuff in her chair

And give to the needy.

Hurricane victims, cancer patients (as if she wasn't one),

the home care nurse whose daughter was a single mom struggling to get by.

Nancy had tens of dollars to give.

She was lucky, Nancy was.  She was rich.

The dollars from the chair were dispensed with alacrity--

"Your daughter needs a communion dress.  Take this $20 to help with the cost."

Out of the chair it came.

It helped her back, the fractures, 

to get that money out of the chair 

so it didn't press on her spine.

That chair sat on the second floor.  

It should have fallen through with the weight of the cash that was hidden inside.

A $5 bill for a little boy.  A $20 bill for a big boy.

Grandchildren, nephews, nieces, friends, the RedCross, Salvation Army.

The money fell from the chair.

It blew into lives and sometimes went to many hands like "Pay it forward."

The richer recipients understood that once in their wallets it multiplied and moved on.

Aunt Nancy made less money babysitting than some folks spend in a day,

Yet the chair became stuffed and then...

The chair is gone

but the stuffing lives on.

Suzanne had emptied the chair of all its dollars and somehow they grew as she and Dave

continued to find good causes

for the money in the envelope where the cash from the chair had been placed.

Year after year she was able to send the money out where Nancy would never go.

Nancy had agorophobia.

But through the money in her chair she went all over the world.  

No wonder she had fractures in her back, sitting on that damned stuffed chair.

It was bulging with.....

I check my own chair a lot.

It's not as uncomfortable as Nancy's.

She helps me dig deep to popcorn, a barrette, a ten dollar bill.

Hey, Aunt Nancy, my back feels better.

A family nearby found a ten in their mailbox just as the milk ran out.

The note said, "Good luck.  Nan."

I don't have faith, don't go to church, but my back feels better when all the

popcorn

and barrettes,

and

...stuff is cleaned out of my chair.

The Obliquity of the Ecliptic

Here's a poem I wrote a few years back that I can't find saved on my computer, so here's saving it.   Stargazers will recognize the theme of we earthlings thinking that we're all that when a little reading about the universe reminds us that we are, as Carl Sagan said, "a pale blue dot."  Here's a youtube of Sagan speaking true poetry http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=luAteAz3WQ0&NR=1

The Obliquity of the Ecliptic

by Sally Coyne

The obliquity of the ecliptic

Induces solipsism

As illusions cause a profusion of confusion

About horizons and dimensions

Right ascension and declination,

Illumination of earth's presumptive supposition

Of universal hegemony

While astronomy cautions economy

Of perception

When gazing

In the direction 

Of space.

Daddy Honey

My younger sister, Linda, (so my remembered version of the family story goes) was said to have our dad wrapped around her little finger.  She once famously told him that he could no longer help her with her homework because he refused to make her an egg at 8 pm.  When she got to be older and could appreciate the family stories about our gentle dad (Thank God Mom was controlling or we all might have been brats) Linda started calling him Daddy Honey whenever asking him to do anything, and we all started calling him that for a while.  Today I met my family for an anniversary mass.  Our dad died a year ago.  It's hard to believe it's been that long.  We are committed to making sure that our children and grandchildren know him.  We tell the stories over and over and it becomes family history.  With five sisters and a brother, my mom, and all of our children it begins to be hard to tell if I really experienced some of these things, or now have the memories due to the stories.  I guess in a way we create our own history.  Here is the tribute to our dad written by Judy with the help of some of my other siblings:

A Tribute to Dad (Bob Coyne)

(August 10, 1918 – February 18, 2008)

(Written by his children)

  Our Dad never won any awards, had an illustrious career, or became famous in his community, but he was a wonderful husband and father.  His greatest accomplishment was raising eight thankful children who were not only devoted to him and Mom, but remain close and loving to each other.  The greatest gift he and Mom gave us was the constancy and security of our home.  Whatever else was happening in the world, our home was a safe haven.  We shared a nightly dinner and Sunday brunches where friends were always welcome and lively conversation was the rule.

          Mom was the love of his life, his sweetheart, best friend, and lifelong partner.  He relied on her to run the household, but also gave her time to be herself.  He supported her volunteer work by holding down the fort when she was away. The greatest tribute Mom gave to Dad was when she received a diocesan award from Bishop Wuerl.  Upon accepting the award, Mom gestured to Dad and told the Bishop, “This is the man who made it all possible.” He was a devoted husband and father, who changed innumerable diapers, polished children’s shoes and eyeglasses, made very strong coffee, and fixed potatoes every night for supper.  He was very proud of his children, rejoicing in our achievements and sympathizing in our misfortunes.  Mom and Dad were a wonderful disciplinary team, playing “good cop”, “bad cop” to great effect.  Even if he doubted her decisions, he steadfastly supported them, so that they always provided a united front.

         

          Dad was quiet, sometimes stoic, always dignified, but never stuffy.  He had a playful sense of humor and loved making puns, most of which were really awful.  He liked to use silly names for everyday things, such as “shattered” wheat instead of shredded wheat, or “blananas” for bananas.  His “smashed” potatoes were the best in town, bar none.  He had a soft kind of laugh, with shoulders that would shake when he thought something was really funny.

          He was the least materialistic man we knew.  He never owned a car, had an expensive hobby, or yearned for high-priced gadgets.  On many occasions he went to work with only a handful of change in his pocket, because that was all he had to spare.  Yet, his children never wanted for food, clothing, or a good home.  When he needed something new, Mom had to convince him to spend the money on himself.

          He always felt blessed to have another child and declared that each succeeding one was the cutest of all.  Judy totally agrees with Dad’s assessment in this area.  He saw each of us as a unique and wonderful gift from God.  He loved us all equally and never favored one over another.

 As a young man of the Great Depression, and true to his Scottish roots, Dad had some unique ways of saving money, such as drying out paper towels in the oven and using a tea bag more than once.  He taught us the value of thrift by never letting a spoonful of food go to waste.  His favorite son-in-law, Ed, once threatened to buy miniature, keychain sized Tupperware containers so that Dad could store his leftovers in them.  Dad was always concerned about us kids leaving lights on and often admonished us not to make Duquesne Light rich.

          He also had some unique hiding places for the treats he managed to save for himself.  Once, when the coffee was done brewing, but none would pour out, Mom discovered that Dad had hidden a piece of cake inside the pot, which had acted as a sponge and soaked up all the liquid.

          Dad had a lifelong love of music and possessed a sweet Irish tenor, which he exhibited as a choir member for more than four decades.  He particularly enjoyed the big bands and popular standards, and knew all of the singers and musicians.  He was an avid Pittsburgh Pirates fan and liked listening to games on the radio.  He took his transistor radio everywhere, listening to talk shows, music, and baseball games with equal enjoyment. 

          Dad was blessed with nine brothers and sisters.  He spoke of them all with love, but it was his sister, Nancy, who played the biggest role in his life.  Nancy and her husband, Jack, shared a home with Mom and Dad for more than ten years.  They helped to raise each other’s children and enriched each other’s lives with love and laughter through many lean years.

          In closing, we would like to recall a poem from “The Prophet” by Khalil Gibran, which perfectly embodies our feelings about Dad.  Margie chose it with help from Robert, for Mom and Dad’s 50^th anniversary invitation.

          You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

  The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness.   For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Thank you, Dad, for always being our stable, gentle bow!

20/20 Appalachian poor

I'm watching a 20/20 I recorded--Diane Sawyer in Appalachia.  I almost want to cry.  I'm not sure who first used the term "crushing poverty" but it is apt.  I'm thinking of a child I know who lived in similar condiditons right here in this middle class school district.  I try to remember that every day when I look at my class--what were their mornings like?   Some of them were nothing resembling mine or my children's mornings with food choices, warm beds, clean clothes.  I keep feeling that I need to do something bigger with the rest of my teaching career--something related to helping under privileged children.  This country offers free education, but it is far, far from equal.  So many years after reading Jonathan Kozol--why is it still this way?  Well, I'm off to 20/20 's website to see how I can help.

84-year-old technology user

Here's Florence who ditched her book to play solitaire on my laptop, at one point while watching a recorded program on my dvr--she has one, too btw--and talking on the house phone which is an internet phone.

Mighty Guins

OK--so the 0-3 comeback last night gives us new hope that the Pens could possibly still make the playoffs.  Let's go Pens!

Hines Ward by Megan Prazenica

Here's the Hines Ward drawing by Megan Prazenica.  You can get info on where to purchase this and the Troy Palamalu poster on Megan's website:  meganpraz.com 

Go Steelers! republished from 1-17-09

Tomorrow all of Pittsburgh will hold its breath as we wait to see the Steelers enter the Super Bowl once again. It is great fun to get caught up in Steeler mania. Here's a cartoon by the daughter of a friend, a gifted animator, Megan Prazenica. Just as I love to see Sidney Crosby make things happen on the ice, I love to watch Troy Polamalu wreak havoc on the offense. One of the teachers at school, a brave Browns fan in a school of Steelers fans, asked if we weren't being optimistic when we began planning a tailgate for the Super Bowl. It's hard to explain how we can be so nervous, yet so confident. It was minus 14 degrees here last night, but will be a balmy 21 tomorrow for the game. Go Steelers!

Elementary (school) Quantum Mechanics

Here's the second essay.  See previous post for Chapter One.

Elementary Quantum Mechanics:  Chapter 2   The Pauli Exclusion Principle

 According to the Pauli Exclusion Principle no two fermions (particles like electrons, protons and neutrons) can occupy the same state at the same time.  One of them must move to another energy level or space, or switch from positive to negative spin or vice-versa. This is one of the most important principles in elementary particle physics.  This effect can be observed any day in any elementary school.  The set-up for the experiment is simple:  Ask a class of children to line up.  Here are some typical results which affirm the exclusion principle.

           As twenty-five 8-year-olds leave their desks (seats, spots on the floor, rug, bleachers) and head for ‘the line’ they begin to judge their distance from a particular point (not point-particles—I’ll tie that in to string theory later), and their maximum speed towards it.  Like electrons seeking the lowest energy level possible, over 60% of the students are headed for the point which they perceive as the front of the line.  An observer who is a futbol (soccer) lover may notice the various high elbows, stepovers, and hip-swinging shielding tactics employed.  One who loves the gridiron will surely notice the twists, leaps, and head-down motion of a running back. Wrestling fans will surely see a few take-downs, reverses, and even an occasional pin. 

            The students who pile up at the ‘first’ spot in line, like electrons piling up in energy shells, obey the exclusion principle.  That is why as the never-static line begins to snake out of the room, those students still in the same ‘spots’ must acquire opposite spin (so they are not the same).  Spin is easy for second graders, and is only ever interrupted by an adjacent student stepping on the spinner’s untied shoestring which often causes a domino effect   (The odds of one untied shoe in a line of 25 students has been proven to be 16:50.  Such a high percentage may surprise a layman, but teachers realize that it is only lower than 25:50 because some students wear sandals.)

            As the line moves towards its destination it is likely to encounter other lines which may proceed in the same direction or move in an opposite one, but students in any one line have a predicted effect on another line.  Any encounter with another line may induce ferromagnetism, “in which the exclusion effect results in exchange energy that induces neighboring electron spins to align,” (Wikipedia.org).  This effect is best observed outside multi-purpose rooms when classes are backed up waiting for an assembly or other attraction.

 Because, as the teacher, I am in charge, I have tried many different initial line-up conditions; but, in a bizarre, reverse ‘butterfly effect’ (the butterfly effect is from chaos theory, not physics—yes, some people actually study chaos), they all end with the inevitable pile-up and spins.  If I understood elementary quantum mechanics better, I might be better able to deal with line-ups, but when it comes to things like the Pauli Exclusion Principle, societal expectations of self-esteem curriculum induce me to just make sure I don’t leave anyone out. 

 Facts:  The Pauli Exclusion Principle is real, as are chaos theory, domino effect, butterfly effect and side effects of reading this.  As to the statistics quoted, 35% of statistics are made up.

Elementary (school) Particle Physics

As an elementary teacher who enjoys reading about (but never really understanding) astrophysics, I'm sharing a series of essays I wrote a few years ago with apologies for any mistakes in matters of science.

Elementary Quantum Mechanics:  Chapter 1   The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle

 According to the Heisenberg uncertainty principle you cannot know both where an object is and its velocity at the same time.  In fact, the more precisely you try to fix its position the less certain is its velocity.  This is a principle of elementary quantum particles.  Every primary teacher, for example, has experienced this strangely disconnected, surreal feeling when a hat or pair of gloves is left in the back of the room.

   Only the students who belong to my classroom bring their coats and things into the room in the morning.  No one else.  No one else brings coats, hats, gloves, book bags into my classroom except my students whose names are on the roster and who sit in the desks in our room.  They are the only ones.  They are the only ones who bring these items to the room, so, if, for instance, a hat is left in the back of our room at dismissal time when everyone is putting on coats and packing book bags, one could be certain that the hat must belong to someone in our room.  But it does not. 

            First, the student whose job it is to check the coat rack, holds the hat aloft and bellows, “Whose hat?  Somebody left their hat here.” 

            Several students definitively identify several other students as the owner.

             “That’s Jeremy’s,” or “That’s Eric’s.”

             I motion for the coat rack helper to bring the hat to me, and, because I am in charge, I quickly quiet the room, commanding attention, and say, “Whose hat? Somebody left his hat here.”          No, no one.

             “Jeremy, is this yours?”  No, not his.

             “Eric, is this yours?”  No, not his.

             “Are you sure?  Look at it.  Boys and girls!  I want everyone’s attention.  Stop what you are doing.  Look at this hat.  Maybe you wore it yesterday.  Did anyone wear a hat like this yesterday?”  No, no one.

             “Look, again, please.  Stop and look here.  Does anyone have a green hat like this?”  No, no one.

             “Wait a minute.  Does anyone have a brother or sister who has a hat like this?  Maybe it was stuck on your coat or book bag and was brought to school by mistake.”  No, no one. 

            Since they weren’t really paying attention, I decide to visit each desk (trying to more accurately fix the position of the hat.  Part of me says to do this, but I’m starting to feel that physicsly speaking, this is wrong on a quantum level).

             I stand in front of each of my 25 students.  I establish eye contact.  I animate the hat.  I set it on each one’s desk.  I point to it. I say each one’s name.

             “Alyssa, is this your hat?”  No, it is not.  No.  No.  No.

            As I move along, now, I try to sell the hat, noting its good points.

             “Kevin, is this your hat?  Are you sure, because it really goes well with your coat, and this is the kind of hat the big boys are wearing, so I thought maybe your mom got one like this for you since you seem to wear grown-up clothes.”  No. Not his. 

            As I try harder to identify the hat’s owner, I know that quantum mechanics and old Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle is kicking into high gear.  Although I try to disguise it, by now the students can sense the frustration in my voice.

             “Jenna, is this your hat?  It has to be someone’s.  It has to belong to someone in our room.” 

            Now, it becomes clear that if the owner does finally realize that the hat is his, he will never claim it, because to do so might invoke the wrath of the teacher who wasted 15 minutes of bus-waiting time that she could have been using to read another chapter of Charlotte’s Web. 

  Elementary quantum mechanics is so hard to understand, but after 28 years, I’ve finally decided I understand the uncertainty principle—at least relatively well.  The next time a hat is left, I intend to calmly read aloud a chapter from The Elegant Universe, and string along until some day when the hat goes home with someone in our room, who by some quark of nature recognizes it that day.  After all, you can’t spend 15 minutes trying to identify a hat.  You’ve got to mμ(v)on.

Facts:  The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle is real, as are quarks, mμons, and string theory (which is Chapter 3 in Elementary Quantum Mechanics—‘String Theory and Primary Prepositional Phrases’ due out in recycled paper in November).  Opus Dei is real, too. The Illuminati used to be real.  I’m no longer sure about the Priory of Sion.

Troy Polamalu

Troy Polamalu posters of the drawing from my post last week--(see the post 4 before this one) are available at a shop called Goin' Postal in the Walmart Plaza in Natrona Heights, PA 15065 for only $13, $18 for the giant decal.  The drawing was done by a local artist, Megan Prazenica. meganpraz.com Go Steelers!

Wide-eyed Optimist on Obama

I am unapologetically taken with Obama.  I must say that I truly thought that George Bush was a small man.  I think it takes a very big person to be President.  Bush was loved by those closest to him who saw how loyal he was to his friends and that he did want to be a hero to his country.  He fell miserably short though, because he did not have the emotional/intellectual capacity to conceive of the Presidency.  Obama does, and moreover he seems to be a very good manager as well, or at least very good at inspiring others to manage well and become leaders, too.  Seth Godin outlined the difference between leaders and managers.  I met a leader in my first job at a drug store when I was in high school. Unfortunately she never was ableto break out of the financial and cultural constraints on women at the time.  Bush turned out to be neither a leader nor a good manager.  Obama has surrounded himself with leaders.  They will do a great job managing, too.  I had tears in my eyes as I listened to Reverend Lowry give the benediction.  I am very happy for all people of color.  I can only begin to imagine what they feel.  Yet, part of me wishes we had been celebrating Hillary Clinton as the first woman President.  I think it is a type of denial for women to say things such as "I don't like women bosses."  I have worked with many women over the years who would have made great bosses, but that option was never open to them.  Anyways, I am excited and feel safe having Obama in charge.  May he and Hillary do well.