A Bouquet of Newly Sharpened Pencils

"Don't you love...the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies.  I would send you a bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address." 

~Nora Ephron (You've Got Mail)

For well over a month now I have been eyeing, yet resisting, the circulars from Staples, Office Max and Target in the Boston Sunday Globe.  According to these advertisers, it's been "back to school time" since mid-July.   I still don't want to admit that it's "back to school time" (even though tomorrow is the official first day of school), nor did I want to begin to glance at all the offerings in the circulars:  Uni-ball pens, many-colored paper clips, Post-it notes in the shape of the letter S, note pads with groovy flowers, eco-friendly paper, wipe board/bulletin board combos, funky magnets, etc.  As soon as I begin to look in these flyers, I am in School Supply Heaven and also in School Supply Hell.

As a educator, I have a love/hate relationship with school supplies.  At many points during my career, it has been incumbent upon me to buy supplies for my office, and because I have my own sense of style, I sometimes prefer to purchase supplies and office items that suit my taste.  On more occasions than I care to count, however, I have had to buy them simply because the school has run out of something.  Five years and three high schools ago, I remember that there was not a staple remover to be had in the entire 2000-person building.  So I went right out and purchased a pretty aqua staple remover - and matching stapler.  In my current high school, the only liquid paper we've had for years simply does not "white out."  Therefore, I generally treat myself to the white-out pens or strips, or my favorite, Bic White-Out with the foam brush.  I confess that I'm often very happy to have these excuses to buy office supplies.

I was in Staples three weeks ago to buy a new cord for my digital camera.  (In my zeal to clean out my condo, I inadvertently donated the cord for transferring photo data from camera to computer to the Salvation Army).  I found a salesman who told me to skip the cord and buy a Memory Card Reader instead.  Done. I should have been all set, right?  Wrong.  I spent the better part of the next hour wondering around Staples as if in a lovestruck fog.

How could I be expected to resist all the new items?  It's like being a kid in a candy store.  Or an addict in a crack store.  How does one choose from among the pens? Should I buy a new 5-pack of the Pentel RSVP medium point in plum?  I have three left from the last pack, but what if I lose those?!? Or worse, if someone steals one? I love the opaque blue Bic pens - the most streamlined design in a cheap pen since the white Papermate with the blue cap that I used to use all the time in college.  Maybe I should buy some of those!  It's all so irresistible!

And let's not forget the lowly pencil.  An old-fashioned pencil with a really sharp point makes me very  happy.  In the past year, I have taken to writing notes at my desk in pencil.  I don't know why I've begun doing that, but maybe because it's so basic, so organic.  When you write with a pencil, you can hear yourself writing.  That scratchy sound is evidence that your thoughts are one step closer to being shared.  Interestingly, I still prefer to write with pencils I purchased at Crate and Barrel ten, I repeat ten, years ago.  They are plain wood pencils each stained in a different color:  sage, cranberry or brown, and they have black erasers. Very chic, very stylish pencils - without a trace of the obnoxious orange that is painted on the typical #2.  The fact that I still have these pencils and still use them makes, pardon the pun, my next few points.  1) We really don't need as many office or school supplies as the advertising account managers for Staples would have us believe; 2) The amount of these small items for sale fuels conspicuous consumption and is environmentally irresponsible, and 3) owning too much stuff diminishes the value of all of it.

As I wandered around Staples in my silly delirium, I started to hear the voice of my frugal Italian grandmother inside my head.  Each time I picked up a packet of pens, I could hear Nonna saying, "How many pens does a person need?  One."  She's right, of course.  Each of us needs just ONE pen, the one with which we are writing at this very moment.  (And I'm not even writing; I'm typing.  Despite the fact that I write very little in longhand anymore, and in pencil to boot, I have 19 pens in my condo right now, and this does not include any that might be in my handbags or totes.  Nor does it include pencils.)   The Voice of Nonna also said, "Step away from the rainbow paper clips.  You have enough paper clips to last you for the rest of your life."  I repeat, for the rest of my life.  (Because paper clips multiply.  And don't say they don't.  This is just a biological fact.)  As I wandered around Staples and filled my basket, Nonna's voice got stronger and stronger.  This in turn became overwhelming, and ultimately, I set down the basket and walked out of the store, having purchased nothing but the Memory Card Reader that I actually needed (and now highly recommend).

As a self-described eco-freak faced living in America and bombarded daily with tempting advertisements, I also have to continually remind myself of my values about consumption, reduction and recycling, and this is not always easy.  The idea of all the "beautiful crap" floating around Staples sets up a horrible conflict between my senses and my rational mind.  Let's face it, if a clutter-reducing-pro-recycler like me can be seduced by the gentle waft of an open Sharpie marker, then no one is safe. 

My third and final revelation about office supplies came on a rainy day two weeks ago, when my family and I, unable to go to the beach and looking for something to do, went to visit Pilgrim Hall in Plymouth, Mass.  It's one stop in the Plimoth Plantation package that locals rarely see after their mandated field trip there in the third grade.  Within Pilgrim Hall are numerous artifacts that the Pilgrims carried with them on the Mayflower, and we were reminded that the Pilgrims couldn't take much, only a few items that had personal meaning to them.  Among the mugs, Bibles, and samplers, there were also quill pens, ink wells and writing desks. I imagine that the Pilgrims cherished office supplies, too, not because they had groovy flowers on them, but because it's these small things that we, Colonial and present-day Americans alike, use which imbue our lives with a little bit of meaning and pleasure.  It doesn't take much, maybe just a finely sharpened pencil or quill pen to make writing something to look forward to (even if you are writing out the Mayflower Compact in longhand). I very much understand why people are drawn to these small items; I just don't think that we need to have so many of them.

Like a harbinger of fall, school supplies mark the start of the new school year.  We know we're back to work when the new Post-its and, yes, more pens, appear on our desks as if by magic or the press of an Easy Button. When I went into work last week, I popped into my boss's office.  There, on the credenza, was a large box of white-out that had yet to be distributed.  I did a double-take.  It was the good stuff.  It was Bic!   I looked at him and said, "You guys sprung for the quality white-out?!?"  "Yup," he said. "Oh my God!" I said, "Can I have some?!"  "Of course," he said. I picked up a bottle and in that moment, I was very happy. 

Twenty-four Patels and Nine Murphys

On Monday, my lazy summer vacation will again be interrupted due to work. As a guidance counselor, it's part of my gig that I work seven extra days in the summer. One thing I love about the cycles of education, besides having most of summers off, is that my caseload continually turns over. By the time I get sick of working on college applications with the seniors, it's time to start working with the juniors. Just when I think I can't stand the level of immaturity that 9th graders have, boom! They turn into sophomores who, somehow, have matured between June and September. It makes one appreciate Erik Erikson all the more.
One of the few small curiosities of the first day back in summer is checking out the names of the new freshmen, and so I look forward to this fresh, new list. Will I know any of these kids? Did I go to high school with any of their parents (a coincidence becoming more and more common with each passing year)? But more importantly, how am I going to be able to put their damn names with their precious, little, barely-adolescent faces?
I admit it. I have a learning disability. I can't for the life of me learn in pictures. I need to read everything I learn. I can memorize vital stats about students as soon as I read their files, but when it comes to memorizing a face, I fall flat on mine. And so each year, I go about the agonizing business of trying to memorize my students' names, faces and stories. I confess, I'm still working on the class of 2010, and 2011 will simply have to wait their turn. I think I have 2009 down, which will definitely help when I start writing letters of recommendation.
The worst part, however, is learning the first names of all the kids who share last names. In my caseload of about 210, I have twenty-four Patels and nine Murphys. And for the record, it's still no easier for me, a Caucasion, to distinguish among white Murphys than among East Asian Patels. To me, they all "all look alike" (except for one of my Murphys, who is, in fact, African-American). It's just as hard to learn who's a Michael or an Amanda or a Billy as it is to learn who's a Zill, a Mitul or a Hemali. (Oh, btw, I once had three Hemali Patels, each in a different grade, and two of the three were one half of a pair of fraternal, or as I like to say, sororital, twins. It was a small mercy that they weren't identical! Are you even following this? Me neither.) In addition, I have students from Uganda, Sri Lanka, Korea and Pakistan, as well as American-born students of Japanese, Chinese, Vietnamese, Greek, Brazilian, African and Italian descent.
For a Boston suburb, we are incredibly diverse. Usually this kind of diversity only exists in cities. I feel very lucky and blessed to get to know children and their parents from all different ethnic, religious and socio-economic backgrounds. In this respect, this is my dream job. In terms of name-memorization, ethnic diversity can actually be helpful, especially when some students are the only members of their ethnic group. For example, "Saikrishna Fifteenletterlastname" is my only student from Sri Lanka, and of course, he has the longest name of any student I've ever had, When I met him as a freshman, I instantly learned who he was and have never forgotten his name or face. (He's not the type to let you forget, either.) I have two girls who wear Muslim hijab; one boy wears a yarmulke. The complexions of the Ugandan kids are generally much darker than those of the African-American kids. The names of these and any kids with distinguishing characteristics, cultural or otherwise, are a piece of cake to memorize. But memorizing the names of the other 185 students is not as easy.
But before I get into my Tips on Pretending to Know Someone's Name, an aside about the Patels. When I first began this job, my then-boss mentioned that he was debating which section of the alphabet I would be assigned. He ultimately gave me the Ms through the Rs, because he wanted me to have all of the Patels. He figured that because I had more admissions experience, I potentially would be able to guide the more high-achieving Patels into competitive colleges. (That the Patels would be more high-achieving and "admissions-focused" than other students was more of a cultural assumption on my boss's part, not necessarily a stereotype. Trust me, I have plenty of Patels who get grades in the C-F range - much to the chagrin of their high-achieving, admissions-focused parents.) The following year, my boss again had to rearrange the counselor assignments, and I had the temerity to insist that I keep the Patels. Not only did I get my wish, but he gave me every new student named Patel, despite the fact that another counselor was to be assigned all new students in general. And so I have, had, and always will have all of the Patels at BHS. I hope to have every Patel to go through our school system for my entire career. After three years, I feel that I have mastered Patels 101 (basic names, faces and yes, genders - Zill is a girl, Mitul, a boy) and am now on to Advanced Patels, i.e. I am starting to learn which Patels are extended family and who is cousin or second-cousin to whom.
But let's get back to memorizing names, because this is something that all teachers have to deal with each year. Each September, our department conducts the very dully-named, Freshman Meetings. Each counselor sends for groups of 6-8 of her first-year students and meets with them informally to talk about study habits, to review to whom they can turn for help in different situations, and brainstorm ideas as to how they might become more engaged in the school community. Last year, I hit upon what I thought was a brilliant solution: I would make each freshman write out her or his name on a name tag and wear it during the meeting. This way, I could read the name as I looked at the face and thus clue myself into who might be who. It didn't really take. There were just too many Patels and Murphys.
Not only was it an unsuccessful experiment, I lived in constant fear that some poor, dumb kid would forget to take off his name tag, go back to class, get teased, then "illegally" call his mother from the restroom. She would in turn call me screaming that I had caused her son undue stress and trauma and how DARE I make students wear name tags and then not remind them to remove them upon leaving the room? Note: nothing like this has ever remotely happened to me but you hear stories. (Parents Who Drive Me Crazy is another topic for another blog.)
Regardless of my attempts to learn names, there are several methods from the educator's bag of tricks that one can employ to "c.y.a." when you're talking to a student whose name you should know but don't. The first is to ask the student to write out his or her own pass and you will sign it. Another is to sneak onto the computer and try to look up the student's picture or schedule based on key points he or she might let slip: the name of the teacher he's complaining about, a mention of a sibling, etc. Another is to tell him or her you have to excuse yourself to check to see if the printer's working/if someone is waiting/if a computer program is up... and then hurriedly ask another counselor or secretary to come in with a stupid excuse to ask the student his or her name. "Excuse, me, Ms. Diozzi, but a teacher just called looking for a student. Is this student him? Honey, what's your name?" I've only had to pull that one once in my career, thank God, with the help of our ace secretary, Carla. It was a successful ploy, but it involved way too much improvisation.
In the worst case scenario, I simply say to a student, "What's your last name again?" And if the student's a Patel, I just say, "I know you're a Patel, but what's your first name again?" Ultimately, the best piece of advice is to simply put your ego aside and remember the first rule of working with teenagers: just be honest with them. And try to make them laugh. It works with Murphys and Patels, and everyone in between.


Lemon and Thyme Roast Chicken (Julia Child)

God bless Julia Child; this recipe rocks! And it's so easy it's almost stupid. I chose it because a recipe for roast chicken honors Irish Murphys, and it's easy enough that even my late, culinarily-challenged, Irish grandmother could have made it. Unfortunately I do not yet possess any Indian food recipes with which to pay tribute to the Patels, but I'm working on it.

One whole chicken (5-7 lb. Perdue Oven Stuffer Roaster w/built-in timer for beginners)
2 lemons
2 yellow onions
Butter
1-2 T Thyme (dried is fine)
Something to truss the chicken (either twine or skewers)

Preheat the oven to approx. 400 (check package cooking instructions).
Rinse chicken and remove plastic pack from inside. Do not remove the skin.
Place the chicken in a shallow roasting pan. Cut the lemons into halves or thirds and squeeze a little juice onto the chicken. Cut the onions into halves or thirds and, alternating lemon with onion, stick as many pieces as will fit into the chicken. Place remaining pieces in the pan.
Tie the legs together with twine to keep lemon and onions from falling out. You can also pull the legs toward each other and use dampened wood or metal kebab skewers to keep the legs shut. (I came up with this idea one time when the chicken was all stuffed and I realized I had no twine!)
Rub butter all over chicken, including under skin. Sprinkle generously with the dried thyme and evenly distribute it over the chicken, including under legs and wings. (This is a messy process but worth it!)
Cook chicken according to instructions on package, approx. 1.5 hours at 350-400 degrees.

Tips: covering the chicken with tin foil will make it cook faster, but make sure toward the end that it's uncovered so it will brown and crisp. Periodically baste the chicken (a large spoon will work if you don't have a baster) if cooking it uncovered.

About the Recipes

As you've probably noticed, editing is not my strong suit. I'm working on it, but damn it, I just have too much to say!

So to counter-balance the looooong posts, I've deliberately kept the recipes short and sweet. And when I say sweet, I mean it. These recipes are really good. A couple are mine; the majority are not. But in any case, I've made and tasted every one of them more than once. They are simple enough for the beginning cook, yet tasty enough for foodies. I want the recipes to remain easy because it's absolutely possible, and sometimes preferable, to have a delicious dish or drink that's wholly uncomplicated.

The blogs may go on forever, but the recipes are meant to be brief little pieces of perfection. Perhaps by winter, both when people start spending more time indoors and my editing skills have been honed (and maybe your cooking skills have improved?), I'll add recipes that are more detailed. Until then, enjoy any and all of what you see on the page.