Thursday, September 18, 2014

Parent Night

Click: Mr. O'Brien's Journey to EA


Click for Courses on Canvas: 




These can be found on EA's website too.



Teaching citation and learning about the perils of plagiarism.

Recommended reading/viewing:

1. Daniel Pink, Drive 
The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us

Click here for full TED Talk by Daniel Pink



Plus Daniel Pink shares, perhaps, the best advice I've heard in a commencement speech at his alma mater Northwestern University.



2. Carol Dweck, Mindset: The New Psychology of Success

From Brainpickings post:

Fixed vs. Growth: 

The Two Basic Mindsets That Shape Our Lives



3. Susan Cain, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking

Click here for full TED Talk by Susan Cain

Bonus: Curated content that I share with my Advisory group.

Lastly, a poem that will make you smile.

The Lanyard
by Billy Collins
The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.
No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.
I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that's what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.
She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light
and taught me to walk and swim,
and I , in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.
Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth
that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

No comments:

Post a Comment