Skip to main content

Snow?


Our classroom calendar "sticks" to the whiteboard and has velcro on each day of the month in order to put up the actual date.  Each month's dates have a different kind of "shape" to represent it...during the month of December the dates are written on snowflake shapes.  Of course, this is because one would expect snow during the month of December living in a suburb of Chicago.

Not the case this year.  It is December 14th and it has yet to snow.  I haven't seen one flake.  Yet the reminders of winter are all around us.  We even had a reading test last week where one of the stories was titled, "Snowflakes".  Many of the ties I wear around this time of year have snow somewhere on them.  

As we were outside during a recess I had a short discussion with one student about the weather.  The conversation led to a small discussion about global warming.  We talked about pollution and the ozone layer and how it might affect the weather.  All the while the sun beat down on us and it was warm; many kids had their coats off as they played around us.

The conversation ended and lunchtime was rapidly approaching.  A fifth-grade patrol (a former student of mine) came out.  We exchanged "hellos" and the student said that they wished it would "just snow, because without snow it just won't feel very much like Christmas."  I'm sure the Spirit will still be there but I understand completely what the child was saying...

I reach back into my memory and relive all the winters of my youth...each and every one of them were cold and filled with snow---every one of them.  I remember the Blizzard of "79 when I lost my "Tootsie Roll" hat within two minutes during the storm and didn't find it until Spring had melted the huge snowbanks away.  I remember trudging through the wind and snow guided by the streetlights while making my way to the mall to buy some presents for my family.  I remember playing with our dog, building snowmen, and sledding at the local hill.  I remember shoveling the driveway and sliding on the ice under the gutter spout.  I recall throwing snowballs and watching huge icicles fall from roofs and trees only to splatter into a thousand pieces.

These memories fill me with a warmth of yesteryear and call me to help make the same type of memories with my own kids.  I hope that I get the opportunity this year to do so...

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. 



Mr. Casten
Dec. 14, 2012

Copyrighted material of Michael C. Casten

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Looking Out

Looking Out Originally written May 27, 2015 Lightly edited for clarity in August 2026. Just hours ago, my students left. They are on their way to summer adventures, family time, and friends. Just as quickly as they walked into my life, they walked out again. Yet each of them will always be a part of my life. When a school year begins, my new students are just that—students. They arrive as a group, and at first there is little that distinguishes them beyond their physical appearance. They are quiet, reserved, and and still unknown to me. During those first few days, I snap a picture of each one, not yet knowing who they really are. I work to learn their names and match each one to a classroom number. I try to figure out who knows whom from the neighborhood. I share pieces of my own life, hoping they'll eventually share theirs. Time meanders on. Slowly, they begin to let their light shine. Slowly, they begin to share what's important to them. Slowly, I'm afforded the opportu...
Post a Comment
Read more

Art & Science

     The familiar winds of autumn blew rapidly through the playground.   Ponytails flying, unzipped jackets flapping, and soaring playground balls all took errant paths.        Just as fall has briskly left so has trimester one.   Reports cards were sent home today and I plan on placing the final touches to each student’s conference narrative.   The practice of filling out the narrative for my students has become one of my favorite “at home” aspects of teaching.   I look forward to retreating to my little office in the basement, surrounded by the faint noises of my family upstairs, and writing.   I seem to enter into a world only my students and I really know; the life of Room 211 on a daily basis.       My mind pictures each student as I am writing about them.   Their faces make an entrance into my thoughts followed by the smile I see each day.   I travel back in t...
2 comments
Read more

Running...

Running... Original post written on August 18, 2012. Minor changes for clarity made in Aug 2026. Twelve years. That's how long I have been teaching at Lincoln. Twelve years. That's how long I have taken the same route from my house to school. In that time I have seen many houses for sale, then sold. Some were torn down to make room for a new house, a new family, and new students. I've seen the streets that I traverse through Elmhurst being ripped apart and rebuilt to make them safer and more driver friendly, not to mention more car-friendly. Twelve years. I've seen high school kids standing on corners, waiting for the school bus to pick them up for school. Some of them recognize my car while others recognize me as their former teacher. Most of them, however, probably do not pay much attention to me as I pass by. Among all that I see, Monday through Friday mornings there is an unmistakable figure, usually two blocks ahead of me on Fairfield. He is a man. He has slightly ...
Post a Comment
Read more