Supporting a team in the World Series is exhausting.  The long innings and late nights takes a toll on you especially when you are not typically a night owl.  

In my youth I was a die hard fan. I learned to love baseball from my dad.  Now when I say loved baseball, I mean cheering and watching the home team at a live game.  Watching baseball on TV is painful, and to listen to the announcers on a static AM station was torture.  The extent of my fanhood was frequenting games with my friends and family.  We made signs, designed t-shirts baring our favorite player (Fisk) , took the T (public transportation), arrived early to watch batting practice, met players and got autographs.  I knew every players name, and cheered until my voice was hoarse.   

Over the years my attention to baseball drifted, but my loyalty has always been with the Sox. I miss those days. Happily however, my son has become a Boston fan.  He knows every player and their statistics.  In turn, I am learning and can name the line up for the Sox again.  Sports is a great past time to share with my children. Instead of heading into Fenway to cheer on the players I am watching them on TV with my kids and I even found myself listening to a World Series game on the radio (could I possible turning into my dad?). Now, I know a World Series fan is different then a full-fledged season fan, but it's a start.  Maybe this will be the beginning of a rekindled love for the game. 

My prediction (and hope) is that the Sox will win in 7 games.  I will be watching, cheering and drag myself into school, exhausted, but it's worth it.  October baseball is what a true baseball fan lives for. 

Go Sox! Boston Strong. 

Image a world without a voice, when you had thoughts in your head, but you could not get them out.  You could not speak. Your words were taken away from you. Would anyone really know you, your thoughts, ideas, fears and feelings. It must be lonely to be in the that world. I suppose you could write and text, but communicating through talking is much more expressive, meaningful and more personal. Too often we take for granted what we have, our voice.  My biannual bout with laryngitis makes me reflect on that very ability and experiencing the loss. The thought of never having the ability to speak, to have my voice heard is unfathomable. Thinking of being in the classroom, teaching would be hard for me and my students. I applaud my students for being patient and understanding my struggle to speak.  I know it was a strain to understand  and really listen when all that was coming out was a whisper.

I first wrote this entry when having laryngitis. Now I am reading two books with characters who can not speak.  Melody in Out of My Mind by Sharon Draper, craves to use the words that float in her head.   She wants her thoughts, feeling and knowledge to be heard, but she is trapped within her own body.  Jacob from The Boy on the Porch by Sharon Creech does not speak.  As the reader, I do not understand his struggles (yet), but I know those caring for him struggle to completely understand him when he is unable to express himself. 

Reading of these two characters, the significance of using our voices to make a difference takes on a new meaning.  Too many children are apprehensive of sharing their thoughts, or asking questions.  They do not feel worthy or confident. We need  to instill in our children that they make a difference, they are important and their voice needs to be shared and heard. The thought of not using our voice when we are able to speak is frightening.

Being right does not mean you are better or smarter. So Why do people have such a strong need to be right? It's puzzling and a complete turn off to see the lengths people will go to to make sure they look superior or have the last word. 

Today I quite simply inquired about the content of our upcoming grade level math test. The question required a simple yes or no response "Ms. Right" responded in a "Reply All" message that was three paragraphs in length. Needless to say, she never directly answered the question. 

It is frustrating and difficult to work with those who feel threatened by questions.  Isn't that what we teach our students; think and question the world. I hope the energy she puts into arguing and defending herself is worth the stress.  I tend to think it's not.  Life is too short to sweat the small stuff.