Arriving Saltspring Island
I was just one of the crowd of people on the trip—old and young, fat and thin, First Nations and white people, male and female. We were off by bus and ferry to Saltspring Island for the day. My job was to blend in, to let myself be represented by students. They were in charge, and I was along for the ride. I didn’t know it would be so hard. Continue reading
The last time I had my teaching evaluated by my administration, I was disappointed. Although I was happy to get a grade of “excellent” (highest on a five point scale), the comments from administration made me gag: “Kate is a kind and a patient teacher,” and Continue reading
Giving students a blog provides an instant audience, and a shift in identity for the blogger. A blogger looks at life with a writer’s eye and awareness of the audience; a blog gives its author a chance to examine, name and reflect on events, and may offer vindication and healing if the blogger is courageous enough to tell the truth. Continue reading
The launch is a big day in the life of any book. It is the day when the art made out of life goes out into the world to see what its reception will be.
Mistaken Identity started as a small project to print Sheila’s stories for a small group of friends. barbara had 60 copies printed. (The list had grown from the original 20 we had planned for.) Continue reading
Actually me, in front, demonstration, with Nancy Rosenberg
Ottawa Citizen, Apr. 7 1980
I had a taste, once, of someone using grammar to do a hatchet job on something that was full of meaning for me. Continue reading
The assignment was to make a graphic representation of the plot development in a novel we were reading together in class. To this end, I had assembled some supplies on a table in front of the room: various kinds of large sheets of paper, felt pens, pencil crayons, glue sticks, stickers and labels of the kind scrapbookers use, some collage materials, etc.
We talked about various possibilities, such as diagrams, time lines, and flow charts, Continue reading
I expected it to be an interesting activity. I was sure people would take part, and hoped they would enjoy it. But they didn’t seem to care.
I gathered some objects on a table in the classroom–modelling clay, bread dough, a crumpled plastic bag, rubber bands, pebbles, a plastic mug and a ceramic mug, Continue reading
