Callie Feyen

My 8th grade classroom smells like mint gum, and body odor. The gum is not allowed. I am to tell the kids to get rid of it, and then report it into a shared record system that’s stored on the computer. After a certain amount of gum busts, I think the student gets a detention or something along those lines…. View Post

I read this week from an editor that a writer’s website needs 50,000 true followers in order to get a book deal. It made me cry a little bit. This was written by one of my students last week during finals.  He wrote it at the top of the essay portion of my exam.  My essay question was this: “It… View Post

The plan was to begin reading Harry Potter out loud to the girls when Hadley turned eight, because for years I thought eight was the age HP was when the story began.  Turns out, he’s eleven. Eleven years of sitting in that damn cupboard beneath the stairs. I hadn’t realized until we’d started it, and I’ll have you know it… View Post

“Hadley?” “Hmm?” “Hadley?” “Hmm?” “Hadley?” “Harper. What?” “How much do you love me?” Lately, Harper’s been telling us before she goes to bed, “I love you more than you love me.” She says it in a sing-song, silly voice that I’ve come to learn she uses when she’s feeling unsure about something.  These days, she’s interested in measuring love, and… View Post

These kids twelve years ago. Here they are about a week ago: In the first picture, we were at Macri’s, a little deli and bakery across the street from The East Race in South Bend, Indiana. I always got an order of jalepeno poppers and a California wrap which I’m sure people from California would say, “This is NOT anything… View Post