Counting Down to a Break

Well, it's finally here...my Winter BREAK! Yahooooooooooooo, let me sing it from the rooftops =)

For those of you who are in education, you know that the week before Christmas can test your patience. Even the fullest of full moons don't touch the amount of nuttiness that even the best students produce during this particular time of the year. Sugary snacks atop sugary snacks for sometimes day-after-day-after-day can amount to one of the highest sugar rushes and energy bursts possible. I can't lie, I'm glad to be cozied up in my pajamas on the couch, Christmas tree lit and candles burning. Now if only my Duplin Scuppernog would hurry up and chill, we'd be set.

As I reflect over the past hours before our Winter break, I am thankful for the nuttiness. Today at 10:00 AM our entire school was invited to the gym to participate in a sing-a-long. Students filed into the gym, excited as could be (post-sugary snacks, day two). Teachers sat along the edges of the long rows of hyped up kids, some grading papers, some checking cell phones, some singing along with the students. Now, I admit, I've never been the biggest fan of singing children. Children who sing in large masses usually begin to scream and to me, that's not pleasant to listen to. I typically pack my grade book and a pen and get my grading done while they enjoy. I had these trusty items with me, however, for whatever reason; I didn't have quite the interest in spelling scores today. As the children sang their racket for all to hear, I found myself in tears. It wasn't from the decibel level, but more so, that I had the opportunity to hear these happy, exuberant voices. As I took in the sights and sounds around me, I thought about two things:

1) This sing-a-long was more than likely the ultimate fun for any one child in that gym today. Looking across the sea of kids, I saw so many bright smiles as they sang along to the lyrics of "Jingle Bells" and "Here Comes Santa Claus" I remember how excited I was to begin the Winter break as a child with special Christmas programs at school. I remember thinking of these programs as a "kick-off" to the Christmas season for my family and I. These were the times that I got to spend with my friends before being gone for a week-and-a-half. As adults, that time goes by so quickly, but to a child, that time creeeeeeeeeps by. Throughout the rest of the day, even my "big" 5th grade kiddos could be heard humming to the tune "Must Be Santa". To a teacher who is counting down her hours, this is music to her ears!

2) I am so fortunate to work at a place where I feel safe and cared for. After the tragedies of a mere week ago in Newtown Connecticut, we have all been a little jumpy. My school is a wonderful place to be, and I am so thankful this time of year to spend my time there. We all complain about Common Core, PLC meetings, no time for planning, lack of duty free lunch, etc., etc., etc., but what I have come to realize is that I am very well taken care of. The students who attend my school are taken care of. We all work ours off to take care of theirs.

So as I looked across the 600+ loudly singing voices in the hot gym today at 10:20 AM, I decided that recording my kids' spelling test grades could wait. I could grade them over a glass of wine sometime this week. What was important was taking in the moment. The here and now is all that we are ever blessed with. No one really knows what tomorrow holds, and hey, why not sing off key every once-in-a-while? I'm sure Santa doesn't mind. =)

If I don't get the hankering to write again before the holiday, Merry Christmas, ya'll!

Tis' the Season...

Well, my two readers, the Christmas season is upon us.  Even before Halloween came and went, Christmas items were up for sale.  Everywhere you look now, you see colors of red, green and the twinkle of lights.  Inflatable Christmas scenes dot yards while you can see the glow of trees in windows of homes as you drive by at night.  I love the holiday season.  I love the commercial side of it...and I don't mean the getting.  I love the giving.  Nothing makes me happier than to give someone a gift that really makes them happy.  There's something about doing things for others that makes me feel worthy and needed.

As Cruz and I were putting up our tree (for the last time, might I mention, in our townhome...yay!) we got into the conversation of helping others.  Over the past couple of months, he and some of his co-workers have been collecting items and taking them to homeless people throughout Winston Salem.  During their trips, they began giving out food items, water, personal hygiene items and other small tokens to help those who don't have anything to make it comfortably through the day. During our tree trimming, Cruz asked me that his co-worker had wanted to know if there were any families at my school who could use donations for the holidays.  As I continued to string the white lights on my matchy-match, commericalized tree, I became overwhelmed with emotion.  Although I know that Christmas is a season for "giving", I am very guilty of thinking of giving a wrapped trinket, a hand-made ornament or a scarf to a friend or loved one.  His question made me step back out of the commerical side of Christmas and really think about what's truly important.  As cliché as it is, giving to those who have nothing is what the season is really about.  Do I need a Christmas tree with matching ornaments in my townhome? No. Do I need Black Friday shopping deals at 2:00am? No. Do I need to hang stockings from my bookcase to fill with little "stuffers"? No. All of these things are luxuries.  I am so very fortunate to be able to acquire all of these commercial Christmas traditions when there are folks outside right now as I blog without much more than the clothes on their back. 

I want to continue giving.  I want to make a difference in the life of someone who hasn't had the blessings that I've had.  I want to continue to serve others and feel worthwhile.  I want this last Christmas in my townhome to be the best Christmas yet.  Together, I know that my family and I can sponsor those who are not as fortunate as I am.  Happy Holidays...and tis' the season to give!

“Happiness doesn't result from what we get, but from what we give.”
― Ben Carson

A Positive Change

Today, in my language arts classroom, our discussion turned to volunteering time for those in need.   Students spent time in class connecting their lives to the lives of the characters in our anthology story.  Sometimes, as a teacher, you hear a student begin a story and you just know it's gonna take a while.  I had that initial feeling with one particular student, but chose to refrain, because this child needs to be heard. 

The child shared that he/she and his/her family were walking to eat dinner one night and was apporached by a homeless "hobo".  This child offered his/her own personal money to this stranger, not even knowing the good that he/she did for that person that day.  With details left aside from this child's particular story, it sometimes takes me a day with my kiddos in a classroom disucssion about "hobos" to get back to what really matters: listening to how innocent and wonderful children truly are. At the end of this child's story, others piped up that this individual had made a great choice.  I saw the self-esteem boost waaaaaay up, so I threw my initial plan book ideas out the window and we continued our conversations of helping others, especially those who are in need.

I let this instance play back in my head again and again today.  I am sometimes caught in a rut, and it takes refreshing days like today to remember why I do this job, and why I put myself and my loved ones aside when I stay later and later to get work done.  Some of these children are not appreciated.  Some of their families see them just as a nusance and another mouth to feed and body to clothe.  Some parents don't provide their children any support at home.  This is where I come in.  Besides teaching the ABC's and 123's, I teach students that what they have to say is important.  Students' personal connections to the classroom are necessary and should always be appreciated.  No matter how outlandish the story.

In addition to today's discussion, I thought of two recent news videos that have captured the good in others.  In the midst of election slander, it's delightful to see videos such as these below.  If you have time, watch both of these.  Both sure made me feel better.  I am thankful for a positive change.

Teen With Cerebral Palsy: Homecoming King

High School Students Salute Veterans on their Day Off

"When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hold on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn.”

Harriet Beecher Stowe

Mistakes Allowed

I teach 5th grade and consider myself blessed to work with such a flexible, knowledgeable team who all truly care about children.  Throughout all of the necessary changes to quarter testing, curriculum instruction, professional development and other day-to-day challenges, I know that I have support from the four people who I've taught with for the last two years.

So you may ask, why title this post "Mistakes Allowed"?  Well, a teammate of mine has this phrase posted on the wall of her classroom for her students to see.  I love thinking about this poster when I'm working through an order-of-operations problem that has multiple sets of parenthesis and I can't get the answer to match the answer key or when I'm guiding my students through a selection of text, and jumble every other word up.  I love for my students to see me goof, because I feel that sometimes they do honestly think teachers know it all!  I can speak for myself, this is simply not true...no matter how much I wished it were!  In the large scale of things, this new Common Core Curriculum implementation year is chocked FULL of mistakes.  I have lots of pent-up-about-to-bust-at-the-seams-frustration about how things have been handled at the central office level.  However, just like a prepared teacher in a room full of eager children, ready to learn, mistakes can be made.  I have to keep this in the back of my mind that this is a learning curve year.  Everyone  is learning, and everyone is making mistakes. 

Building a house has surely made me think of this poster as well: Mistakes Allowed.  Cruz and I embarked on this house design journey almost two years ago.  We have been so very fortunate to pick out and create our "dream home" including every detail from taller counter tops, to a snazzy, state-of-the-art gas cook top in the island and my personal favorite, two wrap around porches =)  Because of tremendous family support, hours of sleep lost, money pinched and weekends given up, we've had the opportunity to see this dream unfold in front of our eyes.  Just today we finally passed our rough-in plumbing inspection.  Just this past week we passed out rough-in electrical inspection.  Two years worth of hard work and planning are finally beginning to amount to something tangible, and I can't help but get excited!  Now, don't get me wrong, along the way, mistakes have been made.  Plumbing was a doozy to get done, and something as simple as deciding on a paint color can really make you think and reflect on what you want to look at for the next 10 years!  However, mistakes are allowed.  There is nothing set in stone, and we've made changes as this project has evolved.  I know that more challenges will surface as we get deeper into this crazy house-building mess.  More mistakes will be made, but it's totally okay.

Mistakes Allowed.  Simply stated, but so beautifully defined.

What causes an aneurysm?

Today was "family picture day" on Cruz's side of the family.  Thirty-one people turned out to be photographed, all dressed in blue jeans and white tops.  I spent my morning and early afternoon plowing through school work and visiting with my wonderful aunt so that I would have the afternoon to relax and enjoy for a change. 

To fully understand our conversation, some of our closest friends have been recently impacted by a loved one who suffered an aneurysm early last week.  We received word that his condition had not gotten much better, but were hopeful.  On our way to have family pictures made today, I asked Cruz what causes an aneurysm? His reply, "God does".   

Throughout our family pictures today, his response to my question played over and over in my head.  I smiled through the pictures, but I knew, deep down, my smile would soon fade.  I had the feeling God had His plan ready for a special person today.  As the sun began to fade over the horizon and the cooler, crisp fall air whipped by us, we received news that God had gained an angel in Heaven. 

I first grieved for the family.  I hung my head in tears, knowing that our close friends' unborn child would never meet his grandfather.  Holidays with their dad's antics would no longer happen.  His smiling face and love for Carolina Panther football would be no more.  It was quite a hard pill to swallow.  Still, I kept thinking,Why?

It never seems to make sense when someone passes away unexpectedly.  I tend to have internal battles with allowing myself to release selfish tendencies and to fully let that person "go".  Some days, I scowl, wondering why we, on Earth, must sacrifice our needs of loved ones in human form in order for them to return to our Father.  Other days, I am thankful that those in pain are relieved, and that their spirit for the love of life and laughter live on through our memories and hearts on Earth, but their souls are at peace with the Lord.

As I continued to reflect on the voices around me as we snapped one happy picture to another, I felt compelled to be thankful.  I'm thankful that I have the opportunity to even have a picture made with the family that God has blessed me with.  I observed the generations of happy children that played in the leaves, the generations of adults that joked around and imagined the generations that are yet to come.  I find peace in knowing that I, too, have a plan in God's eyes, and when my plan is set, I will be ready.

So, what causes an aneurysm?  WebMD says family history, life style choices and high blood pressure.  I have to say, I think I agree with Cruz on this one.  Just like the answer to all of life's other tough questions: "God does".

We love you Jess and Jake.  May God Bless you and your families as we all mourn the loss of a wonderful man.  I leave you with "family" pictures of precious memories that will never fade away.

2 Corinthians 5:6-8 "So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord."

Homecoming Happenings 2012

This past weekend, I spent too much money.  I lost too much sleep.  I ate too much junk food.  But, it was all worth it.  As all of you know I am a HUGE Appalchian State fan.  Its not often that I make it to Boone with all of my favorites wrapped up into one large weekend.  After a weeklong bout with hacking coughing, runny nose and pounding sinus headaches, I was feeling well enough to pop the Ibuprofen and take on the weekend like a champ. 

Its been 5 years since I've last been a student on campus at App.  When people say, "Go get high on a mountain" there's more than one meaning to be understood.  Being in Boone is amazing.  Life on the mountain slows you down.  The hustle and bustle is put on the back burner for the relaxation and enjoyment of the sights and sounds that Boone has to offer. I promised myself a little R&R this weekend after busting mine at work for a couple of months solid.

My weekend began with the reunification with my best gal pal from App, Carrie.  In college, we were inseperable.  She's the kind that after two months, I can pick up the phone and not a thing has changed.  You don't find many of those these days!  We enjoyed two full days of each other's company accompanied by our Appaholic tailgate friends, some of my Winston girls, and new alumni friends we made while visiting around town and campus.  We visited the new Reich College of Education, hit up the Appalcart for old times' sake, dined at Macado's and tailgated in the gravel.  I noticed in our conversations with other App Alum, things have definetly changed on and around campus.  I loved sharing stories with others about my experiences in Boone and listening to others' renditions of just how deep the snow was while on the way to class.  Boone is it's own culture.

Being in Boone reminds me of how old I am becoming.  Carrie and I tried going out with the best of them two nights in a row, and by the second night, bed time came earlier than anticipated.  Funny thing is, I was fine with it.  Nothing wrong with falling asleep at 7:30 on Saturday night after a full day of fun on the Appalcart, full of interesting characters from all walks of the world, tailgating from 10:30-3:00, lasting through half of the game in chilly Boone weather and treking it back on the Appalcart on the way home.  Needless to say, I caught up on sleep, graded papers, responded to my students' blog posts and planned early this morning.

As I reflect today over the events of the weekend, I don't mind that I spent too much money.  That money was well spent to create memories of lasting friendships that will never fail.  I don't mind that I slept entirely too much.  That just means I'm getting older, and wiser and that Monday mornings kick my butt without the appropriate amount of sleep for my "old" soul.  I don't mind the junk food.  My gut might disagree, but I enjoyed those delicious Boone tastes.  I don't mind catching up on my school work at odd hours of the day.  Starting a school week with loose ends always gets me in tizzy.  I don't mind being a 5 year alumni of App State.  That part, I actually love.  There's nothing finer than being in Boone, and being a Mountaineer. 

Now, for photos:

"The mountains are calling, and I must go..."- John Muir

The Many Hats Teachers Wear

Tonight, I am feeling a little under the weather (sore throat, headache, downright beat) and I think about how often I get sick from my job.  I don't mean sick of it, but sick from it.  Besides working in a health care field, I'm pretty positive that teaching is one of those jobs that expose you to 124,435,634,208 germs each day.  I can't even count how many times one of my students say "Bless You" because of the number of sneezes that occur from one or more of my kiddos each day.  So is this a whining post?  Not really, but it is a reflective post that can be summed up below.  Yes, teachers get summers off, and yes we have decent health care coverage, but before you jump to too many conclusions, take a look at this graphic and think about what your job asks you to do each day.  I feel like it puts teaching and the responsibilities of a teacher into perspective.

So here's to feeling better fast by pumping in the Vitamin "C" and back at it tomorrow.  Looks like I'll be pretty busy!

Finding My Creative Outlet Again...

Well I suppose I should start this new blogging endeavour with a celebration.  That celebration is FREE TIME!  This is the first school year since 2008-2009 that I haven't been working full time and going to graduate school. 

I knew after my first year of teaching that I wasn't doing anybody any good by continuing the hiatus I was on.  Undergraduate school doesn't prepare you for what you encounter in the "real world". I went to work feeling defeated quite often.  I knew I had a lot of learning to do but, I yearned to be "that teacher" for someone who never had the opportunity to feel appreciated by a teacher. So, I dusted off my old desktop, wrote a letter to Appalachian's Cratis G. Williams graduate school, paid $50.00 and enrolled myself into the Reading Education program.  Little did I know that I would be becoming MUCH busier than I had ever anticipated.

Getting back into a school swing was tough.  I had only been out a year from undergrad, but having to read scholarly articles and write papers and blog and meet and you-name-it-I-did-it was quite a bit.  Not to mention that Cruz and I (he's the two-legged one if you read my caption, by-the-way) had decided to begin our quest to create a dream home of our own.  Oh, yeah, and the great state of NC, yeah, they laid me off after I began teaching, so I was also on a job hunt as well.  However, I digress, and let me focus on the point at hand, graduate school.

I started my new teaching job (second year) at a great school in WS/FCS.  I was new, my immediate family was going through quite the tumultuous uproar and our staff were moving into a new building.  So at this point I was in deeper than I'd ever been before.  But, with help of friends, co-workers and family, I found strength in the ups and downs of my family and in the move from one building to another.  I found my niche, if you will, at work and landed firmly on my feet back on the home front.  All the while, I was still working my way through graduate school, learning amazing things about teaching reading to children who couldn't.

Countless Saturdays were spent sipping over-priced hot chocolate at Starbucks.  Many early alarms were set on Sunday mornings to read articles before anyone else even stirred.  Friday nights with girlfriends turned into study sessions and blogging responses.  Phone calls to my dad were even cut short, because I had to focus on my studies.  Time management was key, and working ahead kept my from literally drowning in paperwork.  I would spend two-and-three nights a week on one end of the couch while Cruz channel surfed on the other end, and would wake up the sound of the TV being switched off at 11pm.  I questioned myself often what I was doing to my friends and family who had just helped me wedge my way back to some type of normalcy.  But, still, I was pardoned for my early departures from social gatherings and left alone to write numerous responses while everyone else had their own kind of "fun".  I kept thinking about the outcome, that personal goal of completing my degree, and more importantly, helping a needy child who can't.

Now, five years into my teaching career, I am finally finished with graduate school.  I look back on the countless hours spent and couldn't honestly tell you what I did.  I don't know how I did it sometimes, but with the support of family and friends, I did.  With the "You go girls!" and the "You are so hard-workings" and the "Better you-than mes" floating in my head and showing up as texts on my phone and as Facebook posts on my wall, I finally finished this past May.  I won't forget the day I walked into my townhome and saw that measly little package wrapped in bubble wrap and sealed with "DO NOT BEND". I checked the return address and sure enough, Cratis D. Williams Graduate School mailed me, this time. I walked into the living room, package in hand and opened my Master's degree.  That two-legged favorite of mine sat there and told me how proud he was of me and how "smart" I was and I knew it was worth it.  I seldom toot my own horn, but I am honestly proud of what I did and what I went through.  I feel more successful because I now know what to do with that little child who can't.  I don't feel so defeated anymore.

Recently, I was asked to lead staff development for the folks I work for at my school.  I was both overwhelmed and overjoyed at the same time.  I know it is one more thing for teachers to have to endure, but knowing what I know now, and knowing that it works, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to share my training and knowledge!  I hope that I can provide for others what I've been provided in my graduate experience.  My creative outlet has been cleaned out and allowed to move past the mode of APA style with right-aligned headers and footers.  My reflective self can now emerge and share the fun that's about to begin in life.  Simply living.