Dump Glass, with Polished Corners

I wore this lovely pair of turquoise glass earrings to visit a school on today's Professional Development Day. My colleague Debbie and I drove into Bethesda, MD, toured the school, met many teachers, and enjoyed time observing classrooms and talking shop with other teachers. Visits like this are so valuable, giving us perspective on our own teaching and our school.

I made these earrings from some glass that my highschool friend Carolyn sent to me: "dump glass," found amidst other junk and tumbled to smooth its edges. Carolyn and I grew up within a mile of the school that I visited today. I wore these broken shards, now so lovely, to return to our old stomping grounds. In our yearbook, long ago, Carolyn's ambition was "to be a polished corner," a phrase from our school song.

I drove Debbie past the home of my childhood-- my dead-end street, home of many kickball games; my climbing tree, its trunk now so broad; my hills, once so steep, now barely sloped at all.

I got home before dark--something I rarely do on a regular school day--and wandered outside in search of a photo spot. I took pictures of my turquoise triangles dangling amidst fruit that survived our October snowstorm.

Survivors, together. I love the notion that this glass was once part of a bottle, used and tossed aside, lying buried for years, then rediscovered, polished, and brought into the light once more.

Like memories sparked by a glimpse of the past. Polished corners, in the autumn light.