A library: one of the few places left in America where you can enter without requirements, where you don’t have to buy or believe anything.
It’s an interesting idea, though, one to think about: how rarely or how often does school provide a room of requirement? How do we distinguish between what we think we want, what we think we need, and what we require?
Only in Philly do you congratulate yourself on identifying the only DMV that’s open on Monday’s near you only to arrive and find the office closed. Because someone crashed their car into the DMV building. Through a window and door.
I get that people use that lot to practice driving, but seriously, you can’t make this up.
My dad often sends me boxes of stuff from my childhood. As he apparently saved everything, a tendency I’m not unfamiliar with, I got all of my report cards from 7th and 8th grade, every single note written home (teachers had great penmanship and wrote incredible thank yous), and every newspaper article that mentioned me. As the Reading Chronicle tended to list every child in every event, from basketball to cub scouts, from drama to school band, there’s a pretty big pile.
In this pile of stuff was this xeroxed sheet. Don’t know where it came from. Don’t know how or why it got into my junior high pile. But it’s a pretty great image for a teacher who does project based learning for a living.
How many times have I had my head down and lost track of the big picture? How many times have I mixed directions up and thought it can’t be that big a deal? How many times have I turned to look at a “finished” product only to see total disaster?