George Washington: War Week

I am sitting in my hotel room tonight, after a week of professional development at the George Washington Teacher Institute at Mount Vernon. I stayed an extra night for a variety of reasons - including not doing a close read of the itinerary beforehand that told me the airport drop off time on the final afternoon. But I chose not to change my flight once I figured that out because one of my best friends from high school lives about an hour out from Alexandria, Virginia. I had planned to spend the afternoon and evening after the institute hanging out with her, on her coast, as she likes to say. But alas, she had a bonafide family emergency this afternoon and couldn't make it to the hotel to see me.

So I took a nap - teacher brains are often mush after the firehose of information spewed at them during a PD like this - and found dinner on my own. If you ever run across the opportunity to do a whiskey tasting paired with Girl Scout cookies, you MUST partake. It was so good. It would have been better with my friend there who was a Girl Scout for far longer than I was, but still, I'm glad I had the experience.

This week was an incredibly deep dive into content I have taught to fifth or eighth graders 17 different times already. But those 17 previous classes have missed out. My instruction on the Revolutionary War will be different going forward. I have ideas for Black History month, Lent, partnering with the design/robotics teacher, and am already looking into bringing historical re-enactors and what additional documents and art I can bring in for use as primary sources to study. I know how I'm going to make a museum exhibit summative assessment better and can't wait for the week after next when I am going with a colleague to spend a week writing curriculum for the coming school year.

For me, the most impactful activity we did was visit the newly opened National Museum of the United States Army. My parents' lives were shaped by the Army, which means mine was too, at least indirectly. Still, when I saw it on the schedule, I didn't think much of it. I had intended to spend most of the self-guided two hour time slot resting since I spent the week wearing my knee brace to correct the placement of my patella due to a deep fissure in my cartilage, and using a cane. However, walking into the museum, I was confronted by silver pillars depicting the images and brief stories of men and women who had served in the Army from the very beginning. One of the first pillars was for a Captain Szeto who was born the same year as me. I attended high school with a Szeto - not the same one - but from that moment on, I was holding back tears while perusing the exhibits.

My mom was an Army Brat. She was the daughter of a career military man who was deployed to Korea and sent to Germany as the wall was being erected. My mom spent her middle school years on a base in Frankfort. After retirement, my grandparents settled their family in the Dallas, Texas area. My dad had moved up from Peru at age 18 and was drafted into the Army during the Vietnam War (I still don't understand how that worked for a non-citizen...) and after boot camp was sent to Texas to work on vehicles. He met my mom at a dance on base. Although my dad was never deployed to Vietnam, his Army experience had a profound impact on the adult he became and decisions he made as the head of my household growing up. Two of my uncles also served in the military (Army and Navy) and I have a great uncle who was killed at Pearl Harbor.

I don't know how long I'll be processing my visit to National Museum of the United States Army, but the experience was emotionally evoking and deeply personal for me. I am so glad I got to experience it.

There were a several moments where I felt the history of George Washington's Mount Vernon profoundly. As a student of mine said while we were at Jamestown in late May, "I feel the history! Or maybe it's the humidity." It was ridiculously humid, especially on our last day, but I felt the history at the gristmill, a reproduction of the one George Washington used. It is an inaccurate reproduction but watching the workings of a mill that was reconstructed with 18th century technology and seeing the grain milled and separated transported me. 

We were also lucky enough to see more of the Mount Vernon mansion than most  tour groups and were able to spend more time in each room than when with middle schoolers. Seeing the room and bed where George Washington died and then going up to the third floor to where Martha Washington retreated after deciding not to spend another night in the room where her husband died was powerful. 

Another powerful moment was our trip to the Carlyle House, where we got to stand in the dining room where General Braddock sat and disregarded the advice of colonials who advised him to not fight the French and indigenous people in straight lines wearing bright red coats. (Spoiler Alert: the battle did not go well for him.)

This morning we attended and participated in wreath laying ceremonies, both at the slave memorial and Washington's tomb.

It was a long and eventful week. I can't wait to get home, but I am so glad I got to experience this. My students will benefit immensely and I will treasure the memories and friendships I made for the rest of my life. I am also hopeful that I will get to come back to experience a different GWTI week in the future.