What do St. Crispin, Halloween, All-Saints & Souls and Guy Fawkes have in common?
You are close, dear Reader. They are autumnal observations rooted in religion, history, folklore and whatnot.
Crispin and Crispinian were – a long time ago - the Catholic patron saints of tanners and cobblers. Their feast day has traditionally been October 25. However, under Vatican II reforms they were stripped of their day (reasons remain obscure). Ever more broad minded (my opinion) the Anglican Church retains the day as Black Letter Saints Day.
We know St. Crispin (old Shakespearians, at least) from the famous speech in Henry V:
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day. (IV, iii)
Today is Halloween. My daughter’s black cat Harley adorns the picture frame this week or at least a replica of him. Harley is so black, scary and mischievous that he’s a natural poster boy for today.
Halloween’s close cousin is All Saints Day – followed by - All Souls Day. The festival of All Saints, also sometimes known as All Hallows or Hallowmas is a feast celebrated near or on the first Sunday after Pentecost in honor of all saints (excepting poor old Chrispian, apparently). All Souls' Day follows to commemorate the faithful dead or departed, as they say.
In keeping this international, let’s not forget our British friends and their excuse for a party next week on Guy Fawkes Day. The good Guy, so to speak, is best known for his involvement in the Gunpowder Plot of 1605. This was an attempt by a group of English conspirators to kill King James I and most of the aristocracy by blowing up the House of Lords.
English school-children hum this little ditty on Guy Fawkes Day:
Remember, remember the fifth of November,
The gunpowder, treason and plot,
I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
Does anyone have a word for a string of celebrations that fall reasonably close together and have a common theme?
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Watch This Space
Yes, you are correct, dear Reader. This post title is lame.
However, Blogging 101 says to keep posting on a regular basis. It’s not that I’m short of ideas today – I’m just short of time.
Look. Here’s a preview. I’ve invited about a dozen friends and colleagues to be “guest bloggers” during the coming months. That should give you something to look forward to so it’s not just The Clermont “voice” speaking within these pages.
Amen. See you next week.
However, Blogging 101 says to keep posting on a regular basis. It’s not that I’m short of ideas today – I’m just short of time.
Look. Here’s a preview. I’ve invited about a dozen friends and colleagues to be “guest bloggers” during the coming months. That should give you something to look forward to so it’s not just The Clermont “voice” speaking within these pages.
Amen. See you next week.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
United Nations Day
Tomorrow is United Nations Day.
This event was established in 1948 by the United Nations General Assembly to observe the anniversary of the establishment of the Charter of the United Nations. The idea, of course, is to promote understanding of the world’s premier deliberative (and sometimes cooperative) body.
International schools around the world love days like this. Celebrations of this sort reinforce the broad philosophy and mission of most schools. Yes, dear Reader, a sound definition of an “international” school is still forthcoming.
One of the most effective active learning programs for high school students is the mock or model United Nations (MUN). There are scores of MUNs around the world today including the largest and oldest outside of the US - The Hague International Model United Nations or THIMUN. This huge event is co-sponsored by The American School, The British School, The German School and The International School – each in and around The Hague in the Netherlands. Some 3,500 students (mind boggling, really) gather each January to debate world issues. I was there (the American School) for eleven years and watched the incredible enthusiasm generated by this event for our students.
Model Parliament, model Senate and model European Union are similar programs.
Here’s to the United Nations … and the teachers who sponsor these remarkable active learning programs.
This event was established in 1948 by the United Nations General Assembly to observe the anniversary of the establishment of the Charter of the United Nations. The idea, of course, is to promote understanding of the world’s premier deliberative (and sometimes cooperative) body.
International schools around the world love days like this. Celebrations of this sort reinforce the broad philosophy and mission of most schools. Yes, dear Reader, a sound definition of an “international” school is still forthcoming.
One of the most effective active learning programs for high school students is the mock or model United Nations (MUN). There are scores of MUNs around the world today including the largest and oldest outside of the US - The Hague International Model United Nations or THIMUN. This huge event is co-sponsored by The American School, The British School, The German School and The International School – each in and around The Hague in the Netherlands. Some 3,500 students (mind boggling, really) gather each January to debate world issues. I was there (the American School) for eleven years and watched the incredible enthusiasm generated by this event for our students.
Model Parliament, model Senate and model European Union are similar programs.
Here’s to the United Nations … and the teachers who sponsor these remarkable active learning programs.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Napa in 3.6 Hours
Here’s the good news about my job: I get to travel extensively. Here’s the bad news: often I don’t have time to see anything. Do you know the New York Times travel column “36 Hours” - 36 Hours in Barcelona or 36 Hours in Montreal? Some lucky journalist gets a weekend – all 36 hours – to wine, dine and explore.
Well, my version of that would be a column called 3.6 Hours in ... take Napa for an example. I was there this week for a meeting. A long meeting. An interminable meeting which is longer than a long meeting. Didn’t see a thing. However, here is why the trip to Napa is worth a few blogging minutes and a bit of your time, dear Reader.
Regular travelers frequently use “secondary” airports to avoid crowds, rental car queues and unruly bartenders. Here are some examples:
Flying to Boston? Try Providence
Flying to New York? Try Newark
Flying to Washington? Try Baltimore
I took this little gem of a secret to heart when I visited Napa this week.
Flying to San Francisco? Try Oakland (no thanks!)
Flying to Oakland? Try Sacramento (no thanks!)
Flying to Sacramento? Try Reno (bingo! – and with gambling pun included at no extra cost).
Why Reno? Rental cars are still $19 per day (vs. $64 in San Francisco). Cheap food everywhere. My airport hotel in Reno last night (the Peppermill Casino at $79 compliments of Hotels.Com) was the best deal in town. I saved several hundred dollars by avoiding the big California airports.
However, here’s the other reason I chose Reno. To get to Napa I had to drive west. A minor hankering for a journey of sorts. Perhaps following the spirit of the Pony Express? the Cherokee Trail? Too much romanticism for you, Reader? Well then, in our own time, remember Walter O'Malley moving the Brooklyn Dodgers to L.A. in 1958? It runs deep in our American blood, you know.
Westward Ho! Here I go.
The drive out of Reno is pleasant – an hour along side the meandering Truckee. Across the river, trees turn gold and red in the autumn air. The car moves up swiftly past the blue waters of Lake Tahoe. Suddenly, the peaks of the high Sierra Nevada appear. At the very top and with a nod to Lewis and Clark, a vision of the distant Pacific. Thru the open windows, the pine trees seem to whisper – "go west, young man".
Now down through the broad, verdant valleys of central California. Napa beckons. There’s a warm and lazy, late afternoon sun. A vineyard set back in the hills. A cold glass or two of best local chardonnay, if you will. Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath open on the table.
Ah, were it true, dear Reader. But here’s other version.
My ratty little $19 Honda Civic begins to shimmy not twenty minutes out of Reno. The engine strains on the open highway. The lovely mist covering the distant peaks becomes a steady rain. Despite the sharp turns and steep incline, BIG TRUCKS roar past.
At 4,000 feet the rain turns to sleet. At 5,000 feet the sleet turns to snow. More BIG TRUCKS roar past splattering the little car with mush. The wimpy windshield wipers struggle against the oncoming storm. At 7, 239 feet (the BIG TRUCKS roar on) an old and ominous sign declares “crossing the Donner Pass.”
Wait a minute. Wait one minute. The Donner Pass? That rings a distant bell. Grade 11 American history, I’m sure. The Donner Pass? Snow storm? Trouble, very big trouble, don’t you remember?
Dizzy and disoriented I drive off the road into a snowy field. Ahead, a dozen BIG TRUCKS circle, laager-style, around a couple of pathetic $19 rental cars. We’re trapped.
The burly drivers haven’t eaten since Salt Lake City or – even worse – St. Louis. Their bon-fire is fuelled by yesterday’s newspapers, old maps and girlie magazines. A Honda Civic driver is like a morsel of filet mignon to the wild men. It’s 1846 all over again. Trapped in a blizzard and out of food, the desparate pioneers, including George Donner and his brother, turned on one another. Frontier cannibalism in the high passes. I’m going to be a human kebab.
The snow gives way to rain again. The central valley is foggy. Heavy, slow traffic crawls along the busy freeway north of San Francisco. My small Yahoo! map doesn’t show the side road to the hotel. Another hour goes by. I’m lost. I’m tired. Finally, I return to the original exit and there it is – the Marriott. Better to park in the rear, I think, away from the Land Rovers and Volvos.
Well, my version of that would be a column called 3.6 Hours in ... take Napa for an example. I was there this week for a meeting. A long meeting. An interminable meeting which is longer than a long meeting. Didn’t see a thing. However, here is why the trip to Napa is worth a few blogging minutes and a bit of your time, dear Reader.
Regular travelers frequently use “secondary” airports to avoid crowds, rental car queues and unruly bartenders. Here are some examples:
Flying to Boston? Try Providence
Flying to New York? Try Newark
Flying to Washington? Try Baltimore
I took this little gem of a secret to heart when I visited Napa this week.
Flying to San Francisco? Try Oakland (no thanks!)
Flying to Oakland? Try Sacramento (no thanks!)
Flying to Sacramento? Try Reno (bingo! – and with gambling pun included at no extra cost).
Why Reno? Rental cars are still $19 per day (vs. $64 in San Francisco). Cheap food everywhere. My airport hotel in Reno last night (the Peppermill Casino at $79 compliments of Hotels.Com) was the best deal in town. I saved several hundred dollars by avoiding the big California airports.
However, here’s the other reason I chose Reno. To get to Napa I had to drive west. A minor hankering for a journey of sorts. Perhaps following the spirit of the Pony Express? the Cherokee Trail? Too much romanticism for you, Reader? Well then, in our own time, remember Walter O'Malley moving the Brooklyn Dodgers to L.A. in 1958? It runs deep in our American blood, you know.
Westward Ho! Here I go.
The drive out of Reno is pleasant – an hour along side the meandering Truckee. Across the river, trees turn gold and red in the autumn air. The car moves up swiftly past the blue waters of Lake Tahoe. Suddenly, the peaks of the high Sierra Nevada appear. At the very top and with a nod to Lewis and Clark, a vision of the distant Pacific. Thru the open windows, the pine trees seem to whisper – "go west, young man".
Now down through the broad, verdant valleys of central California. Napa beckons. There’s a warm and lazy, late afternoon sun. A vineyard set back in the hills. A cold glass or two of best local chardonnay, if you will. Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath open on the table.
Ah, were it true, dear Reader. But here’s other version.
My ratty little $19 Honda Civic begins to shimmy not twenty minutes out of Reno. The engine strains on the open highway. The lovely mist covering the distant peaks becomes a steady rain. Despite the sharp turns and steep incline, BIG TRUCKS roar past.
At 4,000 feet the rain turns to sleet. At 5,000 feet the sleet turns to snow. More BIG TRUCKS roar past splattering the little car with mush. The wimpy windshield wipers struggle against the oncoming storm. At 7, 239 feet (the BIG TRUCKS roar on) an old and ominous sign declares “crossing the Donner Pass.”
Wait a minute. Wait one minute. The Donner Pass? That rings a distant bell. Grade 11 American history, I’m sure. The Donner Pass? Snow storm? Trouble, very big trouble, don’t you remember?
Dizzy and disoriented I drive off the road into a snowy field. Ahead, a dozen BIG TRUCKS circle, laager-style, around a couple of pathetic $19 rental cars. We’re trapped.
The burly drivers haven’t eaten since Salt Lake City or – even worse – St. Louis. Their bon-fire is fuelled by yesterday’s newspapers, old maps and girlie magazines. A Honda Civic driver is like a morsel of filet mignon to the wild men. It’s 1846 all over again. Trapped in a blizzard and out of food, the desparate pioneers, including George Donner and his brother, turned on one another. Frontier cannibalism in the high passes. I’m going to be a human kebab.
The snow gives way to rain again. The central valley is foggy. Heavy, slow traffic crawls along the busy freeway north of San Francisco. My small Yahoo! map doesn’t show the side road to the hotel. Another hour goes by. I’m lost. I’m tired. Finally, I return to the original exit and there it is – the Marriott. Better to park in the rear, I think, away from the Land Rovers and Volvos.
Monday, October 15, 2007
The Curious Incident of the Dog….
Once a teacher – always a teacher.
Thus, dear Reader, it's time for a pop quiz. Can you complete today’s title? The Curious Incident of the Dog….
Sorry, 30 seconds remaining.
Now if you saw my first post a couple of weeks ago you know I read a book this summer about autism. The remarkable story is entitled Born on a Blue Day by Daniel Tammet.
Well, here is its companion: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. The author went on to win the Whitbread Book Award for this clever story of a young autistic boy [Christopher Boone] who has discovered his neighbor’s poodle impaled on a garden fork. Yes, that’s right. Structurally, the story is a “who-dunnit” mystery but it is much more. The book is full of insights into the mind and manners of an autistic. For example, Christopher dislikes the colors yellow and brown, but loves red. He believes that seeing three, four or five red cars in a row means it's a good, or very good day, respectively, while four yellow cars signify a "black" day. The boy has the same "obsessions" for order as Daniel Tammet explains in his story. Extraordinarily interesting.
These two books – each in their own way – make for excellent reading.
Thus, dear Reader, it's time for a pop quiz. Can you complete today’s title? The Curious Incident of the Dog….
Sorry, 30 seconds remaining.
Now if you saw my first post a couple of weeks ago you know I read a book this summer about autism. The remarkable story is entitled Born on a Blue Day by Daniel Tammet.
Well, here is its companion: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. The author went on to win the Whitbread Book Award for this clever story of a young autistic boy [Christopher Boone] who has discovered his neighbor’s poodle impaled on a garden fork. Yes, that’s right. Structurally, the story is a “who-dunnit” mystery but it is much more. The book is full of insights into the mind and manners of an autistic. For example, Christopher dislikes the colors yellow and brown, but loves red. He believes that seeing three, four or five red cars in a row means it's a good, or very good day, respectively, while four yellow cars signify a "black" day. The boy has the same "obsessions" for order as Daniel Tammet explains in his story. Extraordinarily interesting.
These two books – each in their own way – make for excellent reading.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Puerto Vallarta
Breaking News:
Technology 1 – Blogger 0
I attempted to post this earlier in the week from the hotel via an external blogger fango-dango. Presto! Nothing. Out she goes into the blogosphere. Anyway, here's what I wrote a few days ago:
Big, blue, billowy pennants snap in the wind along Puerto Vallarta’s seaside promenade.
The signs announce a sailfish and marlin tournament here at the end of the month. Bad timing on my part. Just here for the meeting, thanks.
Conference mode: badge? Yes. Hotel ID bracelet? Yes. Keynote speaker at 9? No – 8:30. My presentation? 10:30 on Wednesday. Room? Girasol 1A. 1A? That’s trouble. Let’s look at the program guide. There’s the Girasol (sunflower). There’s Girasol 1. No 1A. Perhaps a closet? The men’s toilet? How can this be?
Alas, dear Reader, don't panic. There is a 1A ! – small but manageable for the size of audience. Conferences often fly or don’t depending on the layout of the hotel or facility. I'm pleased, though. Enough people found me to fill most of the room (thankfully).
Here’s another thing I learned this summer at tech-camp: unconferences.
An unconference is a gathering where the content of the sessions is created by the participants in an ad-hoc fashion rather than by a single organizer, or group of organizers, in advance. Becoming more popular among the techie-types. I wonder if my good colleagues in this business are ready to try an unconferency approach.
Plane reading – since I’m down Mexico way I’ve brought along Carlos Fuentes’ odd little story (my opinion) called Inez. Two stories in one but tied together at the very end. The strand about the old conductor lusting after the young singer is the more compelling.
Technology 1 – Blogger 0
I attempted to post this earlier in the week from the hotel via an external blogger fango-dango. Presto! Nothing. Out she goes into the blogosphere. Anyway, here's what I wrote a few days ago:
Big, blue, billowy pennants snap in the wind along Puerto Vallarta’s seaside promenade.
The signs announce a sailfish and marlin tournament here at the end of the month. Bad timing on my part. Just here for the meeting, thanks.
Conference mode: badge? Yes. Hotel ID bracelet? Yes. Keynote speaker at 9? No – 8:30. My presentation? 10:30 on Wednesday. Room? Girasol 1A. 1A? That’s trouble. Let’s look at the program guide. There’s the Girasol (sunflower). There’s Girasol 1. No 1A. Perhaps a closet? The men’s toilet? How can this be?
Alas, dear Reader, don't panic. There is a 1A ! – small but manageable for the size of audience. Conferences often fly or don’t depending on the layout of the hotel or facility. I'm pleased, though. Enough people found me to fill most of the room (thankfully).
Here’s another thing I learned this summer at tech-camp: unconferences.
An unconference is a gathering where the content of the sessions is created by the participants in an ad-hoc fashion rather than by a single organizer, or group of organizers, in advance. Becoming more popular among the techie-types. I wonder if my good colleagues in this business are ready to try an unconferency approach.
Plane reading – since I’m down Mexico way I’ve brought along Carlos Fuentes’ odd little story (my opinion) called Inez. Two stories in one but tied together at the very end. The strand about the old conductor lusting after the young singer is the more compelling.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
The international schools map (or what I do)
The world of international education organizes itself into different patterns: geographical mostly but also by nationality type, curriculum design and philosophical bent. It’s all very confusing at first. In fact, after 30 years of working in this area it is still bewildering. Hint- here’s why - the huge proliferation of schools in China and the Middle East and the emerging trend of more and more “national” schools adopting international curricula. There is a blending effect at work.
Put briefly, there is no simple map of the international school world.
A general rule of thumb, dear Reader: any city large enough to sustain international trade, commerce or diplomacy has at least one “international” school. Brussels, at last count, had a dozen. I have to bracket international because a definition is needed…. and that’s another post for another day.
International school people get together regularly at spots around the globe. Tomorrow I head to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico to kick off the autumn conference season. PV, in short-hand, is hosting the annual gathering of the TRI-ASSOCIATION [www.tri-association.org]. This organization supports American-type and other international schools in Mexico, Central America, northern South America and some of the Caribbean islands. My logo map adjacent will not be of much help, I’m afraid.
I’ll write from PV.
Put briefly, there is no simple map of the international school world.
A general rule of thumb, dear Reader: any city large enough to sustain international trade, commerce or diplomacy has at least one “international” school. Brussels, at last count, had a dozen. I have to bracket international because a definition is needed…. and that’s another post for another day.
International school people get together regularly at spots around the globe. Tomorrow I head to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico to kick off the autumn conference season. PV, in short-hand, is hosting the annual gathering of the TRI-ASSOCIATION [www.tri-association.org]. This organization supports American-type and other international schools in Mexico, Central America, northern South America and some of the Caribbean islands. My logo map adjacent will not be of much help, I’m afraid.
I’ll write from PV.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
The webby world and life 2.0
This is what I get for going to tech-camp in July, dear Reader. My own web-log and a blogger address. Actually, sarcasm aside, the Building Learning Communities conference sponsored by the Alan November Group [www.novemberlearning.com] was extraordinary.
Three days of mind-blogging workshop sessions on the emerging technologies. I’ve never been to a conference where the adults, mostly teachers and administrators, were falling over themselves to get into the front row – or at least close to the power strips for their laptops (For the record I was armed with a yellow legal pad circa 1972 as were thankfully a few others –naturally we clustered together at coffee break).
Web 2.0 – School 2.0 and Life 2.0 – refers to the 2nd generation of the internet. The old internet (1990s) was a read only technology. The new web – generation 2.0 – is a read/write web. An interactive technology that our students (world-wide) have already mastered and we need to understand as quickly as possible. Marc Prensky is credited with the terms digital natives (yup – the students) and digital immigrants (right again – us adults). Marc: “Our students have changed radically. Today’s students are no longer the people our educational system was designed to teach”.
Part of the reason for this blog is to force myself to engage in the interactive web. Welcome to the webby world, John.
Here's a good read : WIKINOMICS by Don Tapscott. This book takes Thomas Friedman's bestseller The World is Flat one step further and explains how companies world-wide are using new technologies to solve problems/create products through mass collaboration 24/7 -as they say- anywhere around the globe. Even a non-techie like me can understand Tapscott's thesis.
Three days of mind-blogging workshop sessions on the emerging technologies. I’ve never been to a conference where the adults, mostly teachers and administrators, were falling over themselves to get into the front row – or at least close to the power strips for their laptops (For the record I was armed with a yellow legal pad circa 1972 as were thankfully a few others –naturally we clustered together at coffee break).
Web 2.0 – School 2.0 and Life 2.0 – refers to the 2nd generation of the internet. The old internet (1990s) was a read only technology. The new web – generation 2.0 – is a read/write web. An interactive technology that our students (world-wide) have already mastered and we need to understand as quickly as possible. Marc Prensky is credited with the terms digital natives (yup – the students) and digital immigrants (right again – us adults). Marc: “Our students have changed radically. Today’s students are no longer the people our educational system was designed to teach”.
Part of the reason for this blog is to force myself to engage in the interactive web. Welcome to the webby world, John.
Here's a good read : WIKINOMICS by Don Tapscott. This book takes Thomas Friedman's bestseller The World is Flat one step further and explains how companies world-wide are using new technologies to solve problems/create products through mass collaboration 24/7 -as they say- anywhere around the globe. Even a non-techie like me can understand Tapscott's thesis.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
To the Blogosphere - with haste!
Today is Tuesday, Oct. 2, the 275th day of 2007. As good a day as any to join the blogosphere. This is the tenth month of the year. These are solid numbers.
One of the books I read this summer was Born on a Blue Day by Daniel Tammet, the 27-year-old British autistic savant with Asperger’s syndrome. He had an obsession with numbers and his birthday - January 31st - was a blue number in his remarkably creative mind. For symbolism, I’ll settle for the fact that my blogging life is beginning at the start of the month which will give me, perhaps, some discipline to write on a regular basis.
For someone who is not innately creative, this blog will allow me to share some thoughts and observations. I’m very fortunate in that my job allows me to travel extensively so my posts will alternate between home and away. I work in the field of international education so the “theme” of the blog, if there be one, is learning in a global context. Now there's a big order.
However, dear Reader, allow me to occasionally meander as my mind wanders here and there. To the Blogoshere then - with haste!
One of the books I read this summer was Born on a Blue Day by Daniel Tammet, the 27-year-old British autistic savant with Asperger’s syndrome. He had an obsession with numbers and his birthday - January 31st - was a blue number in his remarkably creative mind. For symbolism, I’ll settle for the fact that my blogging life is beginning at the start of the month which will give me, perhaps, some discipline to write on a regular basis.
For someone who is not innately creative, this blog will allow me to share some thoughts and observations. I’m very fortunate in that my job allows me to travel extensively so my posts will alternate between home and away. I work in the field of international education so the “theme” of the blog, if there be one, is learning in a global context. Now there's a big order.
However, dear Reader, allow me to occasionally meander as my mind wanders here and there. To the Blogoshere then - with haste!
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