Matching Tracksuits

The End

Tuesday 5 November 2024

Before the game

Tonight, L’s volleyball career ended. She won’t be playing in college, and we’ve all decided to use the money we would have put toward a final club season to other uses (like adding some time in Greece this summer for her senior trip). So six years of volleyball came to an end in the second round of playoffs against a team from Clover, South Carolina.

We’ve passed the exit to Clover countless times over the years. It’s just before the turn off highway five to Aunt D’s house — Aunt D, who helped take care of both Nana and Papa, who has a heart that gives endlessly. We commented often on how funny it was that there was a town named after our dog. Strange how these little turns appear unexpectedly in our lives: L’s final game in a town we’ve known and had a private joke about for years but which we never would have imagined visiting.

Eyeing the defense

In a sense, that’s been the common theme of L’s volleyball career. To begin with, when she mentioned in sixth grade that she wanted to try out for the middle school volleyball team, I was a little surprised. She’d played soccer at the Y as a kid, but she wasn’t interested in continuing it. If she devoted her free time to anything, I would have, back then, assumed it would have been dance. She always seemed a bit more showy than athletic as a young child. But once she made her decision to try out for the team, nothing could stop her. Not even not making the team the first year. If anything, that increased her determination.

Entering the rotation for the last time

Once she became obsessed with volleyball, I never would have imagined she could be part of a state championship team. Such occurrences are fairly rare: one has to be at the right place (or rather, on the right team) at the right time. But two years ago (almost to the day), her high school team took the state championship.

One final kill

There was a time it seemed unimaginable that she wouldn’t play volleyball in college. She seemed so dedicated to it, and she was improving by leaps and bounds each year. But it was not to be: she didn’t get any interest from any of the colleges she wanted to attend, and she made the decision that she wouldn’t choose a college just because she could play volleyball there.

Of course, there were the initial expectations about this year. “We’re not going to win any games this year!” she declared after the first few practices and warm-up tournaments. And it seemed like they wouldn’t be able to get their game together, but the did. And they finished second in the region.

After the game

They got further than they ever expected; they achieved more than they thought they could. But that last game — it was tough to go out like that. They just couldn’t get things together, achieving the same dismal results in the first two sets: 14-25. I thought they’d fall apart completely in the third set, but they got themselves together and took the game to a fourth set with a 28-26 win in the third. In the fourth set, they had the same trouble they had in the first two sets and lost 17-25.

Under the net one last time

It was a tough way to end a wonderful six years of volleyball, and the Girl had difficulty holding back the tears. She broke down after last year’s final game as well. She said it was out of sadness for losing the seniors: “It’s the last time I’ll play with them.” I think in the back of her head, though, she knew in a year it would be her turn. She wants to put herself forward as a no-nonsense type of kid, but I think she’s got just a little of my sentimentality in the mix.

Last Time

Wednesday 30 October 2024

Tonight was the last time the Girl went through the introduction ceremony at Mauldin High. They won their playoff game, but they won’t be playing at home anymore this season. A bittersweet moment to be sure.

Beirut

Tuesday 29 October 2024

I would have just had to see the album cover for Beirut’s 2006 debut album Gulag Orkestar to have known they would be something special.

As it was, I discovered the thanks to Spotify’s auto-curated playlist the app plays at the end of an album. Band of Horses’ debut Everything All the Time finished up and Spotify began picking songs based off that last selection. A song by Beirut came on, and it had my attention immediately. Accordion, Balkan-style brass, and a modern rhythmic sensibility. It piqued my interest to say the last. I dove in, choosing their second album based on the cover art itself:

“Cliquot” is a song of longing, a song of nostalgia, a song that is at once timeless and modern. “I didn’t know people made music like this anymore,” I thought when I first heard it, immediately listening to it again.

“Gallipoli” with its electronic opening sounds starkly different, and then the horns enter, and you start to notice a trend in Beirut’s music: brass plays the central. Cue the drums and you have a song that sounds completely different than “Cliquot” and yet strangely similar. The vocals enter, and you wonder if it’s not Morrissey singing.

So we’re on this journey into Beirut’s music together and you look at me and say, “I think we’ve found the common thread.” And I say, “Yes, but we haven’t heard the newest album, Hadsel from 2023.” The organ begins and sudden, it’s as if we’ve never heard Beirut before — totally different.

That angelic voice! Those harmonies! All weaving about the organ (a 19th-century organ in Norway). “This is a new side of Beirut,” you say.

And then the trumpet enters.

Lest one think one has cornered Beirut, there’s songs like “Fyodor Dormant,” which begins with an electronic intro that sounds more like eighties dance music before the horns come in, turning the relatively simple intro into a multi-layered Balkan dance tune.

It even has a drum machine! “A totally different Beirut!” I declare. You smile: you’ve given this a surreptitious listen before. You know — the trumpet is coming.

“East Harlem” is up next, and we’re in familiar territory: a squeeze box introduction. And suddenly there’s piano playing eighth-notes as rhythm. It’s a different side. A lighter side. And then the trumpet enters followed by the other brass instruments, and everything changes. Back to a new same old Beirut.

But where is that pure Balkan-flavored music we got a taste of with “Cliquot”? “Let’s go back to the debut album,” you suggest, and there it is.

“I wonder what Beirut would sound like trying to create a pop so with a catchy music video to go along with it,” you muse. Sounds impossible after “Prenzlauerber,” but if we’ve learned anything about Beirut it’s that nothing is impossible. Cue: “No No No.”

And finally, perhaps their finest moment to date: “Arctic Forest.” That music can be so calming, so beautiful, and yet have a beat that renders some kind of movement irresistible — even if you don’t have a dancing bone in your body — is a miracle itself. Add to that the gorgeous arrangement that seems to build but never overwhelm, and you have one of the most perfect songs ever created.

Beirut has been making music for over fifteen years now, and we’ve only now discovered this treasure. It could be worse: we might never have met with this perfection.

In short, the most original and creative musician currently working.

Senior Night

Monday 28 October 2024

Tonight was the Girl’s last regular-season volleyball game. Not of the year. Of her high school career. We have at least one more game as playoffs start: we’ll be playing someone somewhere this Thursday, but we won’t know until tomorrow morning who and where.

Six years of volleyball are coming to an end. It’s hard not to get a little emotional about that. Last year, with the conclusion of the season’s final game (the second or so round into the playoffs — perhaps the first? I can’t remember), L was in tears at the end of the game. “It’s just that’s the last time we’ll be playing with our seniors,” she said as she explained that she wasn’t in tears so much because of the loss.

The shoe is on the other foot now, one could argue. It’s the other girls who should be crying because they’re losing L. “It’s just that we’ll never play with L or S again,” they should be saying. Or maybe the tears last year weren’t just about the senoirs leaving.

Before the game, we had a ceremony with intros, pictures, and cheers. The girls on the team made gift baskets and posters for the two seniors, and there was a display in the gym entry. The coach had asked parents last week to send some pictures of the girls from various points in their childhood and in their volleyball careers, and she chose a baby picture of each girl and had t-shirts made for the parents. Coincidentally, she chose the same picture Papa’s coworkers chose years ago to make a shirt for him as he retired (for the second time? third?).

After the coin toss and warmups, the girls were introduced — possibly the last time L is introduced on her home court where the cheers are the loudest and most sincere.

As for the game itself, it was a fairly simple matter: Greenwood’s divisional record before tonight was 1-12. We’d already beaten them once, and we won easily tonight. But I have to hand it to those Greenwood girls: it takes a lot to keep coming out game after game when you’re stacking up loss after loss, almost all of them in straight sets.

Afterward, there were the usual shots — with the unusual shirts.

Final Games

Thursday 24 October 2024

The end of an era is nearing. Tonight was the next-to-last home game in L’s high school volleyball career. It’s likely to be highly emotional on Monday when it’s the last home game, but tonight, there wasn’t time for emotion. It was time for revenge.

Our girls were playing Hillcrest, a team that beat them 1-3 earlier in the year. However, they lost in five sets to Easley, whom our girls beat soundly in straight sets the first time they met this season and won again (though in five sets) the other night at home. It was, in my eyes, a must-win game.

The Girl thought so, too.

The Mavs started off weakly, though: they trailed most of the first set, and in the end, lost it 19-25. “The Hillcrest girls are so confident,” K observed, “despite the fact that they’ve lost their last five matches.”

Everyone knew the second set was a critical set: lose it, and it would be hard to win the match. Reverse sweeps are not unheard of, but they are rare. We pulled ahead quickly in the second set, and then launched a huge attack that ended the set with a 25-17 win.

One set each makes the third set the momentum-maker: whoever wins that one needs to win only one more set. At first, I didn’t think our girls wanted it: they trailed by about five at one point. But they pulled back and pulled ahead. Then they let Hillcrest catch up. In the end, though, they held them off and won 25-22.

The momentum was definitely on our girls’ side of the court that fourth set: they pulled ahead after being behind 1-4 and never looked back, winning a deciding third set 25-22. It extended the Hillcrest girls’ losing streak to six, and while I usually don’t like seeing someone lose like that, I didn’t mind too much tonight.

Neither did our girls.

Department of Defense

Wednesday 23 October 2024

I was discussing with my principal how I’d like to reward the class (fourth period) that had absolutely no NHIs for the whole quarter. That means every student turned in every assignment. Seems basic, mundane even. To put it in context, one class had 57 NHIs for fewer assignments.

“I’d really like to reward them, but it would be great to be able to do something really big for them, like buy everyone lunch. But we’d need a budget like the Department of Defense,” I said.

“We are the DoD,” he laughed. “Those people out their have no idea what we’re saving them from…”

Our Instructional Goals

Tuesday 22 October 2024

Today we had our first benchmark for this school year. It’s not a benchmark anymore — I can’t remember the new jargonistic name we call it. A something-something predictive assessment. “Predictive” means that it predicts how well students will perform on the SC-Ready test, the end-of-year, state-mandated assessment. Except that it doesn’t. The company that sold the program (Mastery Connect) to the district bragged that it is over 90% accurate in its predictive assessments. Except that it isn’t. We had questions today that weren’t in the pacing guide for first quarter.

“Mr. Scott, what’s a ‘gerund’?” several asked.

“Don’t worry about it. We haven’t covered it. It’s not in the pacing guide until second or third quarter. I can’t remember which. Either way, we will have covered it by the time we get to the SC-Ready test.

The assessment would be a little more useful (i.e., a little more predictive perhaps?) if it weren’t for one small issue, which I elucidated on my daily update for my class website:

All students began the day with the first benchmark of the quarter. We’ll go over the results at some point next week, but since the test is proprietary, we won’t be able to look at or discuss the actual questions because of licensing and copyright. It makes it challenging to use the benchmark as any kind of instructional experience, but we’ll do our best.

That’s right — I don’t get to see the test. At all. I can’t go over the test with students. At all. All in the name of capitalism and profits.

What kind of questions are they? Well, if they’re anything like the questions from our textbook’s unit tests, they’re something like this:

Example 1

A quick question about a straightforward topic: plot structure:

How does the plot structure and specific events in Passage 1 contribute to the overall meaning of the text? 

They create a sense of mystery and suspense, leaving the reader questioning the truth behind Mrs. Sappleton’s husband and brothers’ disappearance.

They highlight the importance of social etiquette and the consequences of misjudging social situations.

They emphasize the theme of deception and the power of storytelling to manipulate perception.

They showcase the protagonist’s journey towards self-discovery and overcoming his anxieties.

But it’s not so straightforward. What exactly does this question mean by (pardon the repetition) “overall meaning”? What is the “overall meaning” of a text? I’m not sure. I know what the overall theme is. I know what the main idea of a text is. I can figure out what a specific, confusing passage means. And I can teach my students to do all these things. But the overall meaning of a text? According to Google’s AI explanation,

The overall meaning of a text is the main idea, or central idea, which is what the text is mostly about. The main idea is the point or message that the author presents and the reader takes from the text.

So it’s just main idea. Or central idea. Still, I hold that, considering how “meaning” is generally used, the question is confusing as hell.

Example 2

This question has two parts. Students are literally instructed, “First, answer Part A. Then, answer Part B.” But knowing middle schoolers’ reading habits, perhaps it’s best to maintain clarity:

Part A

Which character undergoes significant development in Passage 1?

Framton’s sister

Mrs. Sappleton

Vera

Framton Nuttel

Part B

How does the character development contribute to the overall meaning of Passage 1?

Mrs. Sappleton’s character development enriches the text by revealing her resilient and upbeat demeanor despite the lingering grief over her family’s tragedy, thus underscoring the theme of coping mechanisms in the face of loss.

Framton Nuttel’s character development adds depth to the narrative by showcasing his transformation from skepticism to terror, highlighting the impact of the tragic backstory on his psyche and reinforcing the theme of unexpected shocks in ordinary situations.

Vera’s character development serves to contrast her initial composed facade with her vulnerable moments, emphasizing the theme of appearances versus reality and suggesting the fragility of human emotions.

Framton’s sister’s character development provides context for Framton’s state of mind and his motivations for seeking refuge in the countryside, thereby deepening the reader’s understanding of his character and enhancing the exploration of themes related to mental health and escapism.

Again with the confusing use of “meaning.”

But in the end, it’s not even the confusing use of words. What is the point of these questions? What is the practical application?

I know there’s a practical application; I know there’s a point. I’m not dumb. But I am frustrated. I have some kids who can barely on a third-grade level, and I’m expected to get them to the point that they can not only make sense of such questions but also answer such questions.

It’s overwhelming.