Teacher: Year 2 Week 1

I haven't forgotten about all of you faithful and supportive followers but things have been a little nutty as I prepared to get back to teaching this past week.

I'll get back to sharing stories about my summer in Italy in a little bit but thought it would be appropriate to share how my 2nd year as a full timer has been!

I technically started working 3 weeks ago. Finding jobs for teens is really not easy these days. Especially in a college town. I've talked to a number of employers this month who have told me they are reserving spots for their college students who will be returning next week to reclaim their school-year jobs. Many are not hiring at all, the economy wiping out chances to expand or commit to hiring new employees, even it means hiring someone for just a few hours. So as we headed into actual school starting days I had only reached 2/3 of my students and of those only 1/3 of my students were employed. I was nervous.

Monday and Tuesday were staff institute days. Monday the entire district faculty sits in the gymnasium of the middle school and listened to district administrators share info and inspiration. On Tuesday all the high school staff gathered to discuss statistics and rules for the upcoming year. Overall things looked good except for the fact that the stats showed more of our students are from lower-income families and it isn't necessarily a race-determined statistic. The economy is hitting everyone is what that said.

Nonetheless I nervously sent an email to our principal and assistant principal to request a few changes in my program. I wanted to devise a way to keep students in school if they were unemployed so that they didn't just get an F for not getting a job. Staying in school and not leaving early (which students get to do in my program) would be a motivator to being employed. Thankfully they agreed with me. I was thrilled.

I had all my students starting yesterday and by the end of the day I had 20 of 30 employed. The last few need a large nudge to get to work. They aren't really filling out applications and those that are filling them out are dropping the apps off and expecting to just magically get a job. It is too bad they don't learn how to get a job until they've been in my class. That being said, I'm about on par with how things were going last year at this time which is good.

My law class is booming again this semester and filled to the brim with 31 students. I've had 4 chairs added to my room since monday. So far things are going well. My kids all seem to be behaving themselves and despite having a room tucked into a corner away from nearly anyone, they've all figured out where I'm located and are arriving on time.

I left school today with all of next week planned for my Coop 1 class and my Law class. That includes having everything copied and laid out on my back table ready to pass out. All I have left to do is finish planning Coop 2 (my new class) and create powerpoints and possible handouts. Shouldn't be too bad!

It's Sweet Corn Fest in Urbana this weekend. Apparently a big deal. I missed it last year. I love a good corn and will probably taste a few bites.

My next blog should come this weekend. I'll share the next memory from Italy - Pompeii and Sorrento. Photos are on Facebook should you like a preview!

Ciao for now,
KB

Italy Part 3: I Head 'Home'

Last October I began my quest to visit Italy by sending out 30 letters to people with the last name of Poggioli in the Communes (the Italian version of a county) of Modena and Pavullo. All the records I have on my family show they came from the town of Pavullo.

It was around this time that I discovered the term "Jure Sanguinis" which means by Right of Blood. According to Italian law, I can become an Italian citizen so long as my family did not renounce their Italian citizenship. Essentially, I am already an Italian citizen but have not yet claimed my rights. From there I took another look at the immigration documents I had and found that just south of Pavullo sits a tiny village named Renno and is likely the place where my ancestors were baptized.

I had 3 responses from my 30 letters. One of them was from a teenager who's uncle received my letter. Martina and I have been writing since November and it was with her family that I stayed in Northern Italy at the start of my trip. As I've stated before, the Pecchini's felt like close family and were incredibly kind and welcoming. I had dreamed that we'd visit Pavullo (renting a car was pretty costly so I had crossed that off my list of potential outings) but never thought I would. That was until my 3rd day in Italy when the Pecchini's and I got in one car and the Poggioli's in another and headed southwest into the hills and valleys of Emilia-Romagna towards Pavullo.

As with every other drive we'd been on over the last 2 days, I sat in the front passenger seat. The dictionaries were still out and we shared a lot of stories and vocabulary. Watermelon was a new term I had taught Martina and Maria Teresa among many others. I also was teased about being "il camello" which was a story I had shared the day before at lunch.

Pavullo is like central Illinois only its not flat as far as the eye can see. The farmland rolls in a variety of earthy shades among the hills and while barely an hour away from Modena, seems like it is a completely different country. Just like the difference between Chicago the "big city" and central Illinois where my Italian family settled. I always wondered, "Why central Illinois?" Seeing the landscape here answered this question.
(This photo was taken from the castle overlooking Pavullo...more on that in a second).

Breakfast that morning had been pretty fun and a great start to the day yet again. Ivan was up early and had the tv on next to the breakfast table. He was watching some sort of car race. As we munched on pineapple, plums, a juliana torta and nutella we also watched part of an episode of "Joey" the Friends spin off and a children's program that taught the exploration of Magellean and Vespucci. I don't think I understood much of the show but the graphics and weird space theme gave me the gist.

Anyway, we left at 9am and around 10am arrived in Pavullo. There was a huge market in town with a lot of knock-off and local goods being sold. It was a quaint village with brick streets, most of them closed to traffic due to the market. We walked through the town for about 35 minutes, stopping in the tourist information building (which we did in every town). The Pavullo folks had no brochures I could take for free but they were really friendly and told us to head up to the Castle that overlooked the town. We had a little trouble relocating our cars after walking but a few extra steps never hurt, especially when you are walking streets your ancestors once probably walked. Amazing!

Castello Montecucculo was once home to a prominent general, Count Raimondo Montecuccolo. Raimondo served in the Austrian army (national borders were fluid still in the 17th century, especially in northern Italy which wasn't unified until the 19th century) but was born at this castle and also fought for the state of Modena. His achievements eventually gained him the title of prince of the Holy Roman Empire. His former home is now an art and natural history museum. It had gorgeous vistas from its windows. I took several contraband photos here. I've never seen something so out of place! (This is an image of various rocks and stones found in the region. The stuffed taxidermy animals were really eerie).

Just outside the castle we took a few photos. Ivan found a few baby figs that were not ripe. I was warned not to eat them (I didn't know what they were at first. I've never seen an unripe fig!). We left them by a little waterpump fountain and a tiny Marlboro club car. I also posed for a photo next to a metal sculpture of Raimondo on his horse near the castello entrance. What a tourist!

We drove just a few miles further south to find a place to picnic for lunch. We stopped in an incredibly cute deli/store and purchased some meats, cheese, beer, dessert and BREAD! We continued the drive another few minutes down the road when I saw the sign: Renno. In my wildest dreams Renno was a destination. I hadn't told the Pecchini's that I had a connection to Renno. They had picnicked at a little picnic table that sits behind the church in Renno. There was a child's playground there, too. I think I was speechless for a few minutes.

We laid out the food and sat at the table. Ivan used the edge of the table to crack open the Heineken and everyone ate, chatting happily about all sorts of topics. The bells were ringing which seemed to me like a perfect sign of "this is where I should be."

When the minutes went buy and the # of times the bells tolled were beyond 12 we started to wonder if the bells were broken or if it was just a special day in Renno (turns out there was a funeral). We laughed a lot, mostly because the bells were getting a bit annoying. When done with lunch we played on the playground. What else are carefree adults to do?

We arrived back to Modena around 4pm. Of course, we had a detour first in Maranello, home to Ferrari. I bought a few gifts in the Ferrari store (when else is anyone I know going to be here?) and took some photos of Ferrari's zooming by on the street in red and yellow (Ferrari's most famous colors. The yellow is called Modena yellow). I took some photos at the Ferrari factory and again with some cars at the Ferrari museum/test area. Ivan climbed a fence to get some photos of the test track (made me nervous!). Again, I knew this was near Modena but didn't expect to see it!

The rest of the evening I sat chatting with the family in the garden. Ivan watered the plants while I showed Marty and Maria Teresa photos from my facebook page and images of Park Church back home to show them how different some of the churches in the USA can be. We snacked on more fruit and gas water. Dinner at 8:30 was spaghetti, something that the family doesn't normally make in the summer when it is hot. Apparently most meals in the summer are cold meals since turning on the oven makes things hotter. What a great idea! It was a lovely act for Maria Teresa to cook that night.

We watched the USA v Ghana World Cup match at 9pm (I said USA would lose since we hadn't been playing our strongest and they did). Ivan gave me some gifts including a soccer scarf and some books. Have I mentioned how nice these folks are? Maria Teresa gave me some Barilla pasta. In Italy, Barilla makes specialty noodle shapes for different areas of the country. I'm saving it for something special. Bed was at 11pm and I didn't sleep well that night (much like this late night I'm spending writing this!)

I'm blessed to have met (and am somehow related to) the Pecchinis. We're lifelong family now. I'm going to improve my Italian someday and definitely will go visit them again. It was tough to say good-by the next day. I had booked this trip looking forward to the tour and seeing so many wonderful places and revisiting sites I had seen 3 years previously. The days I spent in and around Modena were so unique and special that it would be hard to top them. If I had wanted a unique experience of Italy I had it. I hope I can return the favor someday for them! Grazie Pecchinis!

Italy Part 2: Through Time in Emilia-Romagna

I woke up this morning to the sounds of birds chirping outside my window around 7:15. I was likely among the first to wake up and decided to get in the shower and just soak in the morning. Mornings in Modena are orderly and beautiful.

Large window shutters much like garage doors on pulley ropes are opened in houses around us, including the home where I was living. There is something about this action that is like signaling the start of the day. Just like the birds chirping it was this sound that made me feel prepared to enjoy another day in the heart of Italy.

Around 8am Martina, Maria Teresa and I had breakfast. We gathered in the kitchen in our slippers/house shoes and chatted, dictionaries on the table next to our plates. Today's breakfast was comprised of tea, espresso, a breakfast torte, pineapple, a cereal similar to Special K and the ever present Nutella.

Lara joined us just after breakfast and we jumped into her car and drove to a parking lot at the Modena Station. From there we climbed a set of stairs to the street above and walked into downtown Modena.

Modena (pronounced MA-de-nah) is in northern Italy in the Po River valley, just a short drive from the Apennine Mountains. It is smack dab between Parma (Parmagiano cheese anyone?) and Bologna (ham anyone?) and is known for its balsamic vinegar (I guarantee the bottle in your house is from here). People have occupied this area since the 3rd century BC and have witnessed the historical figures of Pompey, Cicero, Hannibal, Octavian and more recently it's native sons, Pavarotti and Ferrari. You can imagine the history that exists in the streets here.

Unlike much of the more tourist-traveled towns in this stunning nation, the cobbled streets of Modena are large-stoned and not necessarily close together. I spent nearly as much time looking down to be sure of my footing as I did admiring the beauty of its architecture.


Among its most prized buildings are its churches, palace, town hall and piazzas in centro storico (historic center). It contains UNESCO World Heritage buildings, which are scattered all over the country of Italy, including the Piazza Grande and Modena Cathedral. The Cathedral was begun in the 11th Century (yep, 1000 years old!) and is breathtaking. The arches that line the interior of the church are brick and just as you would expect in an old building - there is a feel of perfection in every brick and stone in the building and there is no wonder as to why it has stood the tests of time. The photo here is looking towards Piazza Grande and the colored banner in the foreground is the Catherdral Tower which is being restored. The neatest thing about Italian restoration projects is that the object being restored is often blanketed in a cover that replicates the object beneath it. Apparently these large banners cost the taxpayers quite a bit of money but as a tourist I loved the idea.

There is an odd object under glass in one of the historic buildings in Modena. It's an old oak bucket. It turns out that in 1325 Modena soldiers (then its own state) invaded the state of Bologna and stole the bucket. War ensued for the next 12 years and thousands of people died. Modena came out the victors and now the bucket sits on a pedestal in a room with some of the most amazing frescoes and ceiling gilt that could rival the gems of Rome or Vatican City. I made sure I signed the guest book. This could make a great story for 2 truths and a lie.




Before departing Modena we stopped at the market so that we could have something for lunch before heading to our next destination, Reggio Emilia. What a lunch it was! Back at home in the garden of the Pecchini house we munched on prosciutto, celery, bread, bell peppers, salad and fruit cake as well as plums which were the best I've ever eaten.

We then headed to Reggio just a short drive away. Reggio is known for its University and is where Lara attended. There is a rectangular, timed jumping fountain as you walk through the University walls towards the center of town. The dozens of jets were quiet when we walked up but a family at the far end of the fountain took a step a bit too close and the jets plumed upwards from their hiding spots getting them a bit wet. It reminded me of the fountain outside of Navy Pier in Chicago.

The most famous object in Reggio Emilia is the Tricolore.
It was in the current City Hall that representatives from several area "states" joined together to form a republic in 1797. This was in response to a threat from nearby France and the famous Napoleon. The standard of the Cisalpine Republic was the tri-colored flag of green, white and red, known as the Italian Tricolore. When Italy unified as the country we know today, the Tricolore remained its symbol.

The Museum/City Hall was closed when we arrived but Maria Teresa did a little sweet talking & someone gave us a private tour, including the Hall of the Tricolore. It was such a special moment and one I will never forget.

My day ended with a delicious meal at a pizzaria with the whole family including Lara's boyfriend and the Poggiolis. What I learned this night was that everyone orders their own pizza (About the size of a medium thin-crust pizza back home). That was my first surprise. The second lesson was this: Get a olive oil bottle and put some chilis in it. Then pour a dash of the chili oil over your pizza. Molto bene!
So much better than chili flakes. Boun appetito!

Tales from Amazing Italy: Part 1

Truth be told, I've been extremely busy since returning from Italy. I've had a number of people ask me if I am going to blog about all of the many experiences I had. I have been itching to do so, but I've also been wanting to savor the experiences and by taking a little longer to blog about them, it allows me to relive them for a longer period of time.

So it is, during a heat advisory and severe thunderstorm watch and Lord of the Rings:

Fellowship on tv that I begin to share with you my amazing journey to Italy....

My flight to Italy arrived around 8am on a Thursday morning. I took the Leonardo Express train from Fiumicino Airport (aka Leonardo da Vinci Airport). My first bit of fright occurred when I couldn't figure out where to validate my ticket. I had just 5 minutes before the next Express train left and finally I saw a British couple with a map in their hands and asked them where to punch the ticket. Sure enough, at the start of the track there were 2 yellow boxes, which I ran towards as the train pulled into the little station. Every train station in Italy has these yellow boxes and tickets need to be punched before getting on board. The Leonardo Express costs 14 euro takes you on a 20 minute journey through the graffitized and green countryside between the airport, which is near the coast and central Rome which is just inland. Without the Express train, the trip would take nearly an hour via regular train or quite a bit more in cash via a taxi.

I exited the Leonardo Express at Termini, Rome's central train station. It is a huge place, similar to Union Station in Chicago, expect with 3 times the number of tracks. There are f

ew signs pointing the way to the main track platform. In fact, most point you towards the underground walkway b

elow the tracks where track numbers line the many stairways leading to the platforms above. Confused but confident that I would figure it out, I booked a ticket for Bologna, in the north of Italy. I had about 30 minutes before boarding but when I went down below to get on the platform, the stairs leading to my track were closed with a sign on a door to the stairs saying track closed. Now I was very confused, because I wasn't sure how else to get to my track! It was now about 20 minutes to departure. Finally, I put on my "I'm lost" face and climbed back up to the main level of the station. The only track I could see from above was #1 and I needed track 30. It was then that a nice Italian train engineer spotted my confused expression and walked me all the way down, walking faster than I could go and pulling my luggage. I'm a bit leery at letting anyone handle my luggage, having heard horror stories about thieves in Rome but this guy was really making it his mission that I make my train.

It turns out, I just had to walk all the way along track #1 and once there, laid out before me, was a line of shops and a row of tracks all the way down to my right. We walked brisk

ly to Track #30 and onto the train I went. I knew enough to discern which cars were for first class and which were for second, so I climbed aboard a 2nd class car, hauling my heavy suitcase up with me and found a seat. I didn't realize that seat #'s were located on the ticket but I didn't care once I figured it out, about an hour into the train ride. Neither did the ticket check guy.

The train made 2 stops north towards Bologna. The 2nd to last was in Florence. We were delayed in Florence for unknown reasons and I texted Marty to say the train was running late. I had already arrived later than planned due to my lack of calculating baggage retrieval and distance to catch the train from the airport to Termini. The family was quite hungry at this point and had nearly arrived in Bologna when I arrived at the airport. Thankfully, I had had the idea to purchase some prized Chicago food at O'Hare before getting on the plane. The tasty Garrett's Popcorn was probably the best gift I could have brought them when I finally arrived in Bologna!

I was so anxious to meet Marty and Lara and Maria Theresa and Ivan that I rushed off the train down the stairs to the main lobby and out to the sidewalk in front of Bologna station. The only problem was that the Pecchini's were so excited to see me that they had made it onto the platform and were now waiting for me there. So... I hauled my suitcase now back down and then up the stairs to the platform yet again and it was all smiles and hugs from then on. We were all full of things to say, they attempting (much better than I) to say welcome in English and me to say (in Italian) that I was so happy to meet them. We didn't stay in Bologna but rather got in the car, ate some popcorn and drove to Modena.

Along the way the family began to point out different sculptures and monuments on the roundabouts. I started to take pictures which by the end of my trip became a bit of a joke between all of us. I think it was also on this first car ride that I pulled out my little yellow dictionary so I

could better say things. That dictionary would be in my hands the rest of the visit and so would Marty's big gray one. Everywhere we went the dictionaries were also. Completely m

emorable!

We arrived to the Pecchini's house, a very cute and elegant home just outside the heart of old town Modena. The garage is the lower level of the house and there is a spiral stairway that leads to the 2nd floor and their front door.

They have a lovely garden which is well cared for and a table where I'm sure they spend many a meal during the warmer days of the year. Inside, everyone took off their shoes, myself included. They all had house slippers, which I didn't have but soon improvised my flip flops as house shoes. Before doing so though, Marty lent me her cute animal slippers. This made everyone laugh. I love this

family not only because they are so hospitable but because they are happy and seemingly carefree.

We had a little down time in their garden/patio talking and learning more about each other. I gave Marty and Lara t-shirts that said USA on them which they immediately put on which I found extremely cute. Especially with them both wearing them!! I also gave the family the book on Chicago architecture which seemed like a neat gift. Maria Theresa and Ivan really loved it I think and even brought it to dinner at the Poggioli's, which was the next stop on my Italian adventure that evening.

On the way to dinner at the Poggioli's, we stopped for gelato. Apparently the family's favorite gelataria was closed already so we went to the next best one. What we bought was a

container of deliciousness. Several flavors including mint, chocolate, vanilla and strawberry or some other type of fruit (which I can't recall). I hadn't had dairy in 6 months and I was a bit hesitant to dive in so quick to gelato but it sure looked appetizing and I knew that

by the time we left I'd have had my first gelato of the trip!

Dinner at the Poggioli's was wonderful. We had an assortment of peppers in olive oil, cold cut meats including prosciutto, roast beef and ham and Italian bread (not called Italian bread in Italy of course). Along with dinner was a lovely bottle of wine made right in

Mod

ena. Next came tortellini in a cream sauce which was hand made by Mrs. Poggioli and Maria Theresa. I have never had tortellini that wasn't in a soup. What a nice treat!

I felt like I belonged with this family straight from the moment I met them on the platform. That sense of belonging only grew as the days went by and as we saw more and more things.

I'll share the next part of the adventure soon. Stay tuned. Comments are welcomed =)

Chicago Blackhawk's Stanley Cup Parade

(All photos courtesy of ChicagoTribune.com)

I sit on my couch right now with little butterflies of excitement in my chest, watching the 2010 NHL Hockey champs

taking their tour of Chicago's business district from the tops of double decker busses. Red busses no less. I am in love with this city.

As a kid, I attended two of the six Chicago Bulls rallies in Grant Park. It was so packed and so loud. We couldn't see anything. We could hear the players. I distinctly remember hearing Scottie Pippen's voice and Norm Van Leer. We took the train up in those days and just being on the trains was crazy because people were decked out in full fan gear. If there was an actual parade I don't think I knew about it. Standing in Grant Park was pretty special though, one of my cherished city memories.

I was also at the 2005 White Sox rally and it was amazing. I was scheduled to work that afternoon at Depaul University's bookstore, where I worked as an assistant textbook manager at the time. I decided to get

downtown early and stand amongst the sea of faces in the crowd ready to cheer on my team. I didn't expect it to be super packed because in this town, the Cubs seem to rule. But the crowds were 12-15 people deep along LaSalle Street. It was absolutely amazing. The busses. The people. The free squeezable souvenir baseballs. The ticker tape. It is a once in a lifetime experience.

Now I watch from 150 miles away on my computer and the feelings are still just as strong. I've watched from the busses dep

arting the United Center all the way to their approach to Michigan Avenue. The Shannon Rovers are playing, leading the procession. The players are

being interviewed, overcome with emotion and in just as much awe as the crowd probably is. It is almost better to be watching it on TV because we're getting the players perspective. And the ticker tape is thicker than in 2005!

Let me pause to say I've not been a huge hockey fan. The Hawks owners didn't allow games to be showed on TV and we never went to games. Baseball was the sport in my house growing up. But I am an Olympic fan and always watched a few hockey games. I have watched several Hawks games this year, including the many nail bitting moments of the Playoffs.

Michigan Avenue has never looked so packed. The city is awash in red and I am just loving the sights. I LOVE my home city. Ferris Bueller could not have been filmed anywhere else! There are few places where people hang out of skyscrapers, parking garages, climb lightpoles, children being foisted into the air.

The players are currently waving to the crowd. Patrick Kane is lifting the Stanley Cup. The ticker tape is so thick you can barely see anything, even on TV! The crowd's cheers overpower the sound of the announcers on WGN TV. Jonathan Toews appears to be shedding a few tears. Or maybe he's sweating from the heat. Now he picks up the MVP trophy. Let's not forget the western conference championship trophy is somewhere on one of those 10 busses as well!

I have no idea how they city plans to get the players off the busses and down to the stage at Michigan Avenue & Wacker Drive. The schedule is already behnid, so what's a few more minutes of delay? It's Chicago fashion, right? (Although I am impressed that this whole event will not cost

Chicagoans a dime).

Its time to sign off. The speaking will start soon and I think the players have already said what they could say to the news media riding the bus with them. The pictures

on days like this speak so much louder than words.

Congratulations Hawks! As announcer Pat Foley said the other night, "Lord Stanley's new address is now Sweet Home - Chicago!"

KB

3.2.1.....SCHOOL IS OUT!

I attempted to blog on Monday but Blogger.com was down and I haven't gotten back over to give you a taste of the end of the year wrap up. So here goes!

If you recall from an earlier post, I had a senior who should have failed my class but their parents appealed to get the student a chance at graduating and my class happened to be the F closest to passing (at a 48%). I had set a deadline of 8am on Friday morning to submit the project that accounted for 75% of their final grade. If they did well and displayed hard work - I would pass them. If not, well, I wasn't going to go the extra mile for this student.

I had no finals to give this day. I came in around 7:45am just to be there for this student. Otherwise I technically could have arrived around 9am. I also had every single test graded and all my grades posted with 3 exceptions.

I paced the room a bit and at 8:00 stood in the hall when the bell rang. My student was nowhere in sight. At 8:01am I sent an email to the principal and counselor and told them the student was late and they had missed the deadline. Around 8:10am I went on with my day, putting textbooks away in the bookroom, using a scantron machine to print out question analysis sheets for my electronic tests and checking my mailbox just in case something had been turned in down there. You can probably guess what happened next.

Around 8:14, after visiting a fellow teacher, my student walked into my room and said they had the project for me. I told them I wouldn't accept it as it had missed the deadline, set a week and a half earlier. Here is a kid who told me they'd get it done in two days so that it could be complete prior to graduation. Now a week even after that optimistic submission date they were late. I ended up taking the envelope they presented and stated that I would make no promises. They said it was the earliest they could arrive this morning. I replied "Then you should have thought ahead and turned it in yesterday." You might predict their response - "I didn't have it done yesterday." Oh really??!

I fumed in my office for a few minutes. I paced. I talked it out as my department chair listened and agreed that this was ridiculous. I refused to open the envelope. He was curious and leafed through the pages. I could tell just by what he said out loud that things were missing. He suggested I go down and talk to the principal again. I blew it off for a few minutes trying to simmer down and then went downstairs, doing a few errands on the way, hoping the physical movement would allow me to rationalize. The principal didn't have much to say, other than the student was still in the counselor's office. I was a little frustrated at the lack of guidance I was getting from my administrators over this whole thing, although, as stated before, I understand why they didn't want to tell me what to do. By the time I got to the counselor's office the student had left. The counselor suggested I grade the project and then decided what it would have gotten.

So I graded it. As with every other student who turned in late projects, I downgraded each part of the rubric one grade from what the student would have received. All in all, the student received a low grade and, even being generous as I was on grading this project, their final course grade was still only a 59%. Had the student turned it in on time, they probably would have passed. I found out later from the counselor who had spoken with the father that his child had not worked on it at all until last minute and had been up late the evening before doing it. That right there backed up the grade I had originally given and was the root of this students' issues. The first being a lack of responsibility and consistent procrastination. But also a lack of parental interest and push to get their child to do what they should be doing.

So I spent the rest of my Friday cleaning my desk, filling out failure forms, missing book slips and filing papers. I had a pleasant rest of the day and after work went to lunch with a few coworkers and then that evening went to the end of the year staff party which was followed up by a night of cheering on the Blackhawk's Playoff game at my house.

Thus we arrive at the last day of the school year this past Monday. At 8am we had a staff meeting which was essentially a good-bye to the staff and a thank-you, good luck send off to those who were retiring. I then went back up to my office and cleaned off the surface of my entire desk, which was a pretty substantial task. I really was just stalling for time and digging for things to do. I wandered the building and talked to people. It was somewhat surreal. I will be back in the building a few times over the summer but it felt a little like a good bye. By the time I'm back in the building full-time I'll have had a wealth of experiences and will probably still be processing them all.

Monday after school was supposed to be the Buddy Shuffle. The new teachers and their mentors were going to have a cuisine tour of each other's houses as an end of the year celebration. After months of planning, Buddy Shuffle fizzled out and it ended up being a party at my place followed later on by a night at my department chair's house for Rockband Night. A lot of time was spent at my place talking, eating and laughing. We even pulled out Settlers of Catan, my favorite game which I have now gotten everyone hooked on. (Its hard to find, as it is a German game but its like Risk, Sorry and Monopoly all rolled into one with a built in method of play that keeps the game short).

Since school let out I have been extremely lazy. I have a list of errands to do before I leave for Italy but I am soaking in the ability to have nothing pressing to do. It's a purposeful rest as the next few weeks before I leave are pretty packed.

This Sunday I am going to join my fellow DAR women to pass out flags on Michigan Avenue for Flag Day. I'm also joining my high school friends for our traditional blanket pass, which occurs whenever one of the women in our group have a baby (the last being in December).

The week after is a possible show to work in the middle of the week followed by 2 days working for the Eagles. Got to admit this show is going to be a tough one, as none of the band members speak to each other and will probably need a bunch of runners for them, in addition to the opening acts (hopefully I can work with Keith Urban's folks again as I did 2 years ago on the Kenny Chesney tour). Then its a few days rest before soaring off to the land of wine, cheese, sun and serious history. As our tour guide is bound to say, "This is not a vacation. This is a tour." There will be no rest for the weary until I get back to the States!

Ciao per adesso. (Goodbye for now).

KB

9th Annual Bike the Drive

Chicagoans are a blessed group, living in a city where the lakefront is lined with miles of recreational lanes, often crowed by bikers, marathon trainers, rollerbladers, walkers, pets and people crossing in bikini's who don't realize that serious athletes are about to run them over.

Yet in 2002 a new bike path was created, or rather, redesigned for a day. I am proud to say I was among the first to "take over" Lake Shore Drive on a bicycle amongst a large crowd of cyclists. And I've done it every single year since then in a variety of different weather conditions.

That first year was a bit tough. The route started at Buckingham Fountain and every rider was directed north towards Hollywood and then back south towards 57th Street. It was crowded and as memory serves, around 70 degrees. I biked with a contingent of 20somethings from Park Community Church. We had walkie talkies and although we got separated into a few groups, had a blast.

In the years since I have gained a biking partner in my Dad and his friend Ron. Over the last few years we've not only had bikes stolen (that were locked up) but had a particularly unpleasant ride the pouring rain for the better part of 2 hours. Imagine being in jeans in the rain for two hours. Now add sitting on a bike seat and pedaling. Thankfully, that doesn't describe my situation that year but it certainly happened to someone in our trio. We were so wet biking the 5 miles to the starting line and to meet up with Ron that I thought about turning back before beginning the 30 mile trek through the city. But we saw Ron, standing in his poncho and decided we couldn't get wetter and to just do it. It makes for a good story and carries with it fond memories. Every year BtD gets better. And this was perhaps the best yet!

I wake up around 5am on BtD morning. Partially to see Lake Shore Drive completely empty with not a car in sight but also to catch a glimpse of the first bikers heading towards the Loop from our windows at 2800. This morning almost always guarantees a brilliant sunrise and 2010 was no exception.

Dad and I left the house around 5:30 and met up with my dance friend, Kathryn, who was joining us this year for her inaugural ride. There was no wind to speak of, a rarity in the Windy City, and even fewer bikers as we headed to Fullerton to get on Lake Shore. The organizers created two check points this year, Fullerton being one of them, the other being on the south end near 31st street. There were men dressed in black suits who looked more like secret service than volunteers. Obama was in town (he and I arrived to Lake Shore Drive at the same time the previous day - needless to say he got the right of way in his helicopter and motorcade while I sat in traffic which was finally diverted to MLK Drive). Anyway, we conquered the hill near Lake Point Tower and reached our meeting point at the Arch outside the Modern Wing of the Art Institute on Columbus Blvd.

Around 6am, later than usual, we began our ride heading back north towards Bryn Mawr. The sun was still rising and glinted off the buildings in the loop. I'm enough of a pro at this ride to know where the photographers are located along the route. The first is always right near the Lake Point Tower hill. I seem to never get in a shot with Dad but I think we were successful this year at this very spot, both waving with ridiculous, happy smiles and sunglasses on. The bike north was full of conversation and talk of changing gears as we hit the multitude of small hills heading north. Lake Shore Drive south of Irving Park is still in need of paving and there were gaping potholes in places. So long as you didn't change lanes you could stay on the bike without trouble.



We sat at the Bryn Mawr turnabout a bit longer than usual, taking in the weather and resting our legs. This year there would be no wind at our backs to blast us through the 15 miles south towards the Museum of Science & Industry. We got back on the bikes and made our way south. Trump Tower is now complete and I got a gorgeous shot looking west over the River. I try this shot every year but there is always a bike or two in the way. This time, still pedaling, this may be one of my favorite Chicago photos ever taken.

Just before the southern checkpoint we saw an Ambulance departing the northbound lanes. The entire traffic of bicycles heading north had been stopped. (Turns out the biker than was taken away died 30 minutes later, apparently of a heart attack.) We see an incident every year, although this year was mostly blown tires or families trying to wrangle their younger members back into the fold. The lawn outside the Museum of S&I is a great resting place. We tend to spend most of our break time down here in the sun, whether we need a break or not. There was food available here unlike last year. Let's just say the handicapped biker table was laden with foodstuffs while the main bike refreshment stands were empty. People tend to head south first anyway, it has less hills and much nicer city views and food tends to disappear quicker down here. Apples and water were in full supply though and we sprawled on the great lawn chatting away as we had the whole ride.


It turns out our long delays cost us a bit on our final 7.5 miles. Had we been just 5 minutes earlier we could have completed the course on Lake Shore Drive. Yet the volunteers stationed down at Museum of S&I started yelling on bullhorns to get back on and ride or we'd have to finish the course on the Lakefront path. They were right. We were just minutes from the cut off. Traffic on southbound Lake Shore was already being opened to vehicles, squad cars leading the procession. That was our 2nd sign. We are usually up near McCormick Place when the Vehicle parade begins. We had barely gotten to 35th street this time around. At 31st they diverted us onto the Lakefront Path. I was disappointed. I always finish on the Drive. But it worked out just fine. Ron and Kathyrn had never seen the Path this far south. And my favorite bike spot in all of Chicago is down here. If you haven't seen it, there is a waterfall off the back side of McCormick Place near the Fallen Firefighters Memorial Garden. Boats pass by going and in and out of Burnham Harbor and back in the day, before Mayor Daley carved it up, planes would fly in and out of Meigs Field. It is still a great sitting spot, and perhaps nicer now that former Meigs Field (now Northerly Island) is a nature preserve AND concert venue which supplies me with work on occasion.

Just north of McCormick is Museum Campus, home to the Field Museum, Shedd Aquarium and Adler Planetarium. The best view of the city is from the Shedd. In the summer you will see newly married couples and bridal party's out for photo op's. On a crystal clear day like this past weekend, it was just another chance for a great photo of my hometown. Again, I'm a biker in motion, but the angle makes it sort of artistic. Not bad when on a moving 2-wheeled object you take a photo that has Willis (Sears) Tower, Aon (Amaco) Center and Trump all in one shot!

We reached the finish line in about 2 hours 50 minutes of biking, over 3.5 hours in total. We chose not to eat at The Gage, our traditional spot and also avoided all the SWAG at the celebration in Grant Park. We caught a few bars of American English who were playing at the finish line and headed to Michigan Ave. to lock up the bikes. With the famous Lions standing guard, they'd be fine, right? Especially when decked out in Hawks helmets. (I love Chicago and its random "fandomizing" of famous statues). Outside the Art Institute we found a perfectly, safe, empty set of bike stands to lock up our bikes. After a short tour of the new Modern Wing at the Art Institute (waiting for the cafeteria inside to open at 11am) we ate lunch in the courtyard inside the Art Institute next to a fountain with a single duck getting lots of handouts. Sadly, upon gathering the bikes, we found Kathryn's conspicuously missing. She handled the loss with grace and composure. I'm not sure I could have done it nearly as well.

All in all, a great extended weekend in Chicago. It felt like a mini vacation! And of course, I left to head back to Champaign at the same time Obama left to go home. Figures we'd be on the same schedule! Next year I'll do the 10th Annual Bike the Drive. I think I'm going to also march in the Memorial Day Parade with my fellow DAR ladies. One year at a time...