I'm really not sure how college players keep their cool during the NCAA basketball tournament. Screaming fans are everywhere, the referee whistles seem constant and they've got the added pressure of single elimination. Yet time after time, one of those kids hits a buzzer beating, game-winning three point shot. And although I have no horses left in the race this tournament, I still find my blood pressure rising profusely in every close match-up -- the game is just that intense.
But the rest of my family bleeds blue and gold this time of year, and they were totally thrilled by the early round performance of homegrown hoops star Vander Blue, Marquette's junior guard and graduate of Madison Memorial, Class of 2010. His last second layup to best Davidson in the opener was an absolute heart stopper. And his second round three-pointer with 1:25 remaining was key to ensuring the nail biter against Butler finally went Marquette's way.
But Blue wasn't the only product of the Madison Metropolitan School System to exhibit remarkable grace under pressure this past week. Just hours before the Golden Eagles clinched their berth in the Sweet Sixteen, Aisha Khan, a thirteen year old seventh grader from Spring Harbor Middle School was fully engaged in her own special kind of March Madness.
From the stage of the Edgewood College auditorium, Khan asked Brad Williams, the veteran "pronouncer" for the Badger State Spelling Bee, for the definition, language of origin and part of speech for 17 difficult words. She then successfully spelled "synusia," the word missed by her next closest competitor, followed by the equally remote "temerarious," to beat out 47 other middle schoolers for this year's state spelling title.
Now you don't need to be particularly tall, muscular, or even the least bit physically coordinated to be an elite speller. But there is no question that you need nerves of steel coupled with the will to train like champion athlete. Snigdha Nandipati, last year's winner of the Scripps National Spelling Bee , held annually in Washington, D.C, studied six to 10 hours a day on weekdays and 10-12 hours on weekends to give herself a shot at the national spelling crown. She worked with over 30,000 flash cards and spent time researching word history and etymology rather than simply attempting to memorize as many words as she could.
This year, Wisconsin champ Aisha Khan will also find herself at the Big Dance --the Scripps -- come late May. And while they probably won't host any Bracketology pre event shows, ESPN will televise the Bee, highlighting the incredibly tense nature of competitive spelling and elevating it to sports stature, at least for the day.
The favorite, many say, for this year's competition is Arvind Mahankali of Queens, NY who will be appearing at nationals for the fourth consecutive year.
But I will plan to watch, nonetheless, wearing a borrowed Spring Harbor sweatshirt.
Because we all know Cinderella stories do happen. And they don't always have to involve alley oops, jump shots or fast breaks.
Sometimes all it takes is the ability to spell terms that rarely appear in spell check, like "guetapens" -- the winning word for last year's nationals--correctly.comments powered by Disqus
This past week, against both my will and better judgement, I accompanied 50 or so middle school kids to the Future Problem Solvers Wisconsin State Bowl, a popular academic and skit-writing competition. It was my husband who had originally signed up to chaperone the event, thinking that spending a few days with his 11-year-old daughter and her compatriots would serve as an excellent anthropological experience. But when an unexpected work obligation made it impossible for him to attend, it was me left holding the bag
It may be a bigger waste of breath than electricity to ask my kids to turn off the lights when they leave a room. If I've nagged them once, I've nagged them a thousand times. No, I've never noticed anything amiss with their fingers. But it appears they are physically incapable of flipping a switch to the "off" position.
I want to say thank you to the Board of Education for allowing Maia to return to class, unquestionably the place she belongs, as well as to thank them for adopting the new policies. But just as importantly, I also want to thank Maia and her family for their willingness to come forward with their story.
Some clever-clogs is playing Rachmaninoff on the piano at a party, and there it is again, that oft-heard adult lament of lost opportunity from a dejected onlooker: "I wish I could play. I wish my parents hadn't let me quit music lessons. I was just a kid -- how was I to know?" It's a reasonable complaint.
If you're checking out summer camps for your child, there are many issues -- some obvious, some less so -- to keep in mind. Here's a list to keep handy when you contact camps and camp directors, looking for the perfect spot for your kids to have fun, relax, and learn this summer.
I know, in the grand scheme of things, that my kid issues, when it comes to dining out, absolutely pale in comparison to those of parents whose kids have special needs. Many kids, especially those who are on the autism spectrum, are disturbed by changes in their routine, or anxious around noisy places. They may not be able tolerate waiting for a table or standing in line. So unfortunately, many of these families just avoid eating out at restaurants altogether.
It's weird to admit this, especially in a city surrounded by as much outdoor beauty as Madison. But frankly, I'm just not that into nature. I'm more of an indoor kind of gal. Give me an afternoon at the Chazen or the Wisconsin Historical Museum over the Arboretum or Olbrich Gardens any day.
Lavish costumes, gorgeous sets, a full orchestra and a concession stand where nothing cost more than two bucks and you have a pitch perfect experience at the theater. Oh, and did I mention the ticket prices were just $10 dollars apiece? One could afford to take the whole family for a live theater experience for less than an evening at the Lego movie would cost including popcorn.
I think the first time in recent years that I've felt a real sense of shame, as both a parent and community member, was last Tuesday evening as I sat in a crowded elementary school LMC to listen to Ken Taylor, executive director of the Wisconsin Council on Children and Families, and his colleague, Torry Wynn, present key findings from the 2013 Race to Equity report to our PTO group.
It's Wednesday morning at Allis Elementary School on Madison's east side, and 16 third-graders -- 10 boys and six girls -- enter into an open-space classroom in typical wiggly, giggly style. Some are making goofy faces at one another, some are bouncing around hand-in-hand with friends, and others are just trying to stay out of the whirling-dervish path of activity.
Of the 789 poorly-composed, way-too-dark and out-of-focus photos currently living on my iPhone, I can count on two hands the number that show my kids and me together. And my husband is in probably no more than three or four of those.
Something kind of magical has happened these past two weeks during the Sochi Olympics. There is no question, debate or disagreement on what will be watched on television once all homework is done. Everyone in the family makes time to sit down together to watch an hour of so of the primetime televised games.
Truth be told, though, this month I'm feeling a bit cinematically fried. In some ways, I already feel like I've spent the last week or so at a film festival. A festival specializing in minute-long glimpses of ordinary lives all ending with credits that feature the ubiquitous blue thumbs-up. Yes, it's been the February of the Facebook movie.
Just last week, on precisely the same day the Momastery post was getting over a million well-deserved views, Madison mom Suzanne Buchko was telling a similar story. Not on a blog but instead in the confines of the modestly circulated Franklin-Randall Elementary School weekly newsletter.
Late last month, the Madison Metropolitan School District adopted a five-year, $27.7 million technology plan calling for all district students, including those in the primary grades, to have significantly increased access to their very own tablet or notebook computer by 2019. Some parents, as well as education professionals, questioned whether elementary-aged kids, especially kindergarteners who aren't even able to read or write yet, will gain much benefit from introducing yet another screen into their lives.
This past Monday, had winter's unrelenting weather allowed, Middleton Cross Plains School District teacher Andrew Harris would have once again been at the helm of a classroom. After nearly four years of fighting his dismissal from Glacier Creek Middle School for viewing and passing on sexually explicit material on district computers, MCPSD has been legally forced to reinstate Herris, this time as a seventh-grade science teacher at Kromrey Middle School.
In a study published last week by the National Bureau of Economic Research, academics have found that the 16 and Pregnant series may have played a significant role in the recent decrease in U.S. teen pregnancies.
In our house, sad but true, we've rarely spent the Martin Luther King holiday discussing race, social justice or the power of non-violent civil disobedience. Instead, the third Monday in January has historically been treated as just another day off school, just another long weekend. And it's been a missed opportunity.
It's not something that happens very often, but last Friday, as news of the impending arctic cold snap reached our house, my kids were rooting for Governor Scott Walker. They were rooting for him to take Minnesota Governor Mark Dayton's lead and cancel school throughout the state. They couldn't care less if he had the authority to do such a thing -- if he called off school, he'd be their hero.
Late last semester, as students were packing up their backpacks one final time before winter break, Middleton High School principal Denise Herrmann and assistant principal Lisa Jondle were co-authoring a note home to parents informing them of a widespread cheating scandal involving nearly 250 calculus students at the school.