Manor Park School's production of The Lion King Jr was magic
One part art. One part story. One part love. Mix together: The result is magic.
Kids from Manor Park Public School in Ottawa brought together a community with their production of The Lion King Jr.
I once told my children to think of school as a community. Instead of the physical building and walls that . . .
It's challenging to get a bunch of kids on the same page
"Dad, can you come in for our scientists workshop?" second-born asked.
"You want me there?" I queried.
"Yeah," he answered, with that smile of his, eyes scrunched.
"You know I can't come in all the time," I said, "now that I'm working."
"But I can still come in once or twice, maybe."
He smiled.. . .
Smells Like Recess
Ball up in sky
like rocket to moon.
polka dot ball.
If I were a spider
on the wall,
I would crawl
into your arms,
jump over the net,
mixed dirt and sweat
time to leave fun;
back to class,
sit up straight.
You have . . .
Mrs. Sdao understood our personalities and what made us tick
Photo: Freeimages.com – Lhys *
After my eldest son headed off to his first day of Grade 4 and a new year of scholastic adventure, my thoughts transported me to a brisk Ottawa evening in April, 2014. Winter had mercifully loosened its grip to an anemic spring, but a chilly wind lingered as I walked toward my Class of 1983 . . .
Posted in: school
Classmates made fun of his seaweed sandwich
"Dad," youngest said quietly at the dinner table, "some people made fun of my food today."
All the memories came flooding back. I told him when I was a kid, sometimes A-Ma packed cold chicken legs in my lunchbox. Although I loved chicken, I felt different from those with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (back then it was okay to . . .
In dealing with depression, I have become a better, stronger person
Photo: Freeimages.com – Elliot Jordan
Teaching grade school and parenting are very similar. Both involve educating children, and both require great patience. My first foray into teaching wasn’t successful, but it helped me become a stronger person and prepared me for eventual parenthood.
In May, 2000, I . . .
I felt conflicted forcing my child to attend school
“Daddy! I doan wanna go to school!” my youngest, age 5 at the time, desperately pleaded. “I wanna stay home wit' you!” he sobbed, eyes reddened by salty tears.
“You have to son, it's your job.”
“To learn things. To make friends,” I responded nonchalantly.
“But I have friends . . .