Refreshed...

Sam Intrator once wrote in his article Teachers: The Heart of Education, if teachers are not well, their students cannot be well. Over the past few years of my emerging teaching career I have not always been well. There were glimmers of hope and inspiration from time to time, but I was often not well and not living the balanced life I wanted to live. Slowly, I stopped doing the things I loved. I stopped walking, reading, socializing, and writing. I taught and that was it. As amazing as teaching can be, it wasn't enough. I was no longer whole.

Luckily, I had the opportunity to participate in the Yellowstone chapter of the National Writing Project this summer. In fact, the institute just ended today. It was just the salve I needed to help me be well as a teacher and as an individual. The intense collaboration and interaction with my 16 fellow writers and teachers made me well. I can write again and plan on doing so every day! Writing, after all, is what helps me shape my perspective and experiences. It helps me laugh, reflect, and sometimes cry at any given moment. The Writing Project helped me find this again.

So... I'm going to muse about my wandering spirit and adventures once again, trying desperately not to fall off the wagon. More than anything this space is my accountability for my own writing challenge and my effort to support The Project's philosophies. Thank you NWP and YWP. I owe you a great deal.

Fresh Starts and Cautious Optimism

One of the things I love about being a teacher is the fall (in most years the late summer). Each fall we get to start fresh. Last year's old, scuffed layers of wax and grime get stripped away, scrubbed clean, and replaced with a brand new, shinny, ding-free coat. It smells great. It looks great, and it feels protected and inviting. Every year I look forward to the moment I make my first entrance into the school--usually a week or two before I am required to be there (despite popular myths about us teacher-types). The halls are cool, dark, and quiet. The floors are shinny and new. The smell of optimistic anticipation floats happily in the air. Everything feels fresh and new. It's a great moment-- one of my favorites each year.

As it is with a lot of school districts around our nation, last year's coat of wax wasn't so great. It seemed to go from bad to worse, and then to non-existent in a very short amount of time. It left many of us feeling scuffed, dinged, and way too exposed to the heavy foot traffic from above. We watched as some were scratched to the core despite our gallant efforts to prevent it. It was bad. I'd rather not repeat it again.

When we flooded the district auditorium for our annual first day teachers' meeting yesterday, things felt better. They felt fresh and new again. The floors were scrubbed, buffed, and re-waxed. Most of last year's dings and scuffs had been fixed in the summer cleaning; however, there are still some deep scratches that didn't quite buff out. Yesterday the deep scratches were not so noticeable. Today they were much more apparent. It was hard to look, but impossible not to. It wasn't pleasant to be reminded of how and why those scratches got there in the first place. Yesterday it was easy to forget; today it was not.

And so I'm faced with a choice. We all are. How much do we remember? How much do we forget?

Every school year our floors get scuffed and dinged, and every summer our custodians do their best to restore them back to shinny new with the cautious hope that a new strategy and fresh wax will protect the floors better than the year before. It's a process. It's predictable. It's comforting. This year I choose to hope like our custodians. Despite last year's damage, I will enter this year with new hope and fresh wisdom. It's a cautious hope, but an optimistic one. (What's the point if it weren't?) It's fresh wisdom, but wisdom nonetheless. Until the trust is restored, it would be foolish to have anything less or anything more.

How much will I forget? This will depend on how much I can forget and still meet the goal.

A three generation teaching moment...

(Image from here)

The most amazing thing happened today. Actually, a couple of amazing things happened. To understand their significance; however, you first have to know something about where I come from and why I chose to teach. As many of you know I come from a pretty amazing little town in Iowa. We are known for producing good football teams and kids who have been taught how to follow their dreams no matter how big or unrealistic. Of course, none of this would be possible without great teachers and mentors. I am so lucky because I can't pinpoint which teacher impacted me the most-- and not just my teachers at school but also the other teachers in my life who weren't part of the school.

Because of these teachers, I became a teacher. I knew what it felt like to realize my dreams with the help of my teachers and wanted to make sure that I could return the favor to the kids in my community- wherever that would be. See, my teachers taught me a lot more than just reading, writing, math, history, and science. They taught the important stuff too, like how to keep a positive attitude, how to reach goals even when they seemed out of reach, how to be a good person, how to do the right thing, how to use the accademic skills they taught to solve real life problems, and so much more. My track coach, Mr. Kerns, was among those teachers.

At the end of the school year last June, I handed out a very Mr. Kerns-esque farewell gift to my students. In fact, I remember him giving me something very similar when I was on his track team. I printed up a little colored sheet of paper that had all of the important lessons I had hoped my kids learned from our class throughout the year. I handed it to them as a reminder of what they had accomplished and that what they had accomplished really does matter. I also gave them a little gold dot of tape to stick on their phones. It was to remind them that they really can reach their goals as long as they keep trying their best to do the right things... At the time, I didn't know how well recieved those little dots and slips of paper would be. Today was the day I'd find out.

As summer passed and I had gotten word of what had happened to Mr. Kern's best friend, Coach Thomas, I couldn't help but think of what Mr. Kerns was going through. I began to think about his situation even more after I had heard Mr. Kerns agreed to take on a co-headcoach position to help fill Coach Thomas's place. I kept wondering what I'd be feeling if I were in his shoes-- if my best friend were to tragicly die and how I'd react. After mauling it over for several days I decided to send Mr. Kerns a letter. I wanted to let him know that I still cared about him and what he taught. I wanted to offer a word of encouragement espeically whith his new task at hand. I wrote it. I sent it off, and didn't expect to hear much back, especially concidereing how time consuming coaching can be. I should have known better. Mr. Kerns always found time for us. Why would that change now?

Today was an amazing day. At school a few kids stopped me and showed me they still had their dots. They gave me a hug, and I could see the important lessons really did get through to them. As a teacher, this is the best gift. This is why I do what I do. It was great. When I got home, I started in on my usual routine. I said hello to my neighbors, blogged a little, and washed the dishes. Then the phone rang. At first I thought it was long lost family friend, but it turned out to be Mr. Kerns. He had gotten my letter and the little pop can tab I had included to remind him that he "can" get through the loss of his friend and still manage to find the stamina to coach the team. He wanted to thank me and shoot the breeze.

I'll be honest the whole thing was surreal. Today, I was able to thank my coach over the phone- the coach who taught me far more than just running. I also had the chance to tell him I was not only able to use his lessons in my adult life, but I was also able to pass them down to my students. I even was able to appologize for "stealing" some of his really great teaching stratagies (He responded with a humble, "Everything I used was stolen. That's the stuff that works the best anyway"). I had the chance to tell him that my kids, thanked me today for sharing his lessons with them last year.

I don't quite know how to explain what this feels like, especially because it all happened in such an ordinary, matter-of-fact way. The kids just stopped by with no prompt at all. He just called out of the blue while I was washing my dishes. The only thing I do know right now, is that I feel really lucky. I don't know that many folks have a chance to have an experience like this. I also have a feeling it's one of those situations that few can truly appreciate.

So, today I feel lucky. I feel lucky for having had the chance to be a part of a three-generation teaching moment. There really are no words to explain how amazing that feels. :)

Thanks for taking a second to share the moment.

Starting Strong...

(Photo from here)

When I ran the mile in high school I had to start strong. It was part of my style and part of my survival plan. I would toe up to the waterfall start, embrace the nervous energy that gurgled around in my stomach, and sprint like mad to get to the front of the pack. From there, I worked with what I had left and dug deep when things started to get tough. I was never the meet's most valuable runner nor did I make it to state, but I sure did P.R. (personal record), and I got better at almost every meet. It felt good. It made me happy. It offered valuable coping techniques that I still use-- sometimes more than I thought I ever would.

As I start my fifth year of teaching I sort of feel like I did almost ten years ago when I "toed up" to the line. Granted "the gun" went off almost a week ago, I'm still working hard to stay in front of the pack. It feels good to be out in front, full of energy, and anxious to get after it. And, so far, I'm off to a great start. Just like track, I can feel myself getting better. I can diagnose things sooner than the first years I taught. I've found more efficient ways to work and organize. I can feel myself getting stronger and building stamina. Maybe someday I'll be the master teacher I want to become. However, I really do like the getting better process-- even if it stinks sometimes! At the moment, though, I'm savoring the start. It was a good one, now I just have to figure out how to maintain...

And we're off!!

We had our first day of school today (without the kiddos) and I was pleasantly surprised. Usually inservice days aren't all that uplifting, but today was different. It was a good way to start. I feel energized, empowered, and ready to go. Not to mention that I am really excited to meet the kiddos (Thursday). Now I just have to work on some of those finishing touches...

For those of you who are reading and are teachers, students, or parents I hope you have a great school year this year. I have a feeling it's going to be a fantastic year! :)

Eeyore vs. Tigger...

Dr. Randy Pausch (author of The Last Lecture) once suggested that we have a choice to either be Tiggers or Eeyores. I couldn't agree more. Unfortunately, I felt myself slip in a bit of an Eeyore mode today when I started talking about school with some friends, and it ticks me off. What's worse is that I think I spread a little bit of my Eeyore spirit, and I feel just awful about it.

The worst part about feeling like an Eeyore is that the transformation took me by surprise. I'm usually much more of a Tigger, especially when it comes to school. In fact, I vowed not to become an Eeyore, but alas I felt the Eeyores start setting in last year as I found myself dealing with a few students who really pushed me to my limit and as I let myself get sucked into some slimey school politics. I knew it, though, and thought that my very relaxed summer had chased the Eeyores away. Today I realized they decided to cling on a little tighter than I thought.

School starts in about two weeks, so that gives me a little less than two weeks to ditch my case of Eeyores. Unfortunately, I think I might need all the help I can get on this one...

P.S. I'm open to suggestions.

With Freedom Comes Responsibility

I'm not sure who said it or where it came from, but I couldn't agree more: With freedom comes responsibility. As a teacher, I see the importance of teaching this lesson on a daily basis. Sure, we have the freedom to speak as we choose, think as we choose, expose ourselves to things of our choice, but with that freedom comes the responsibility to think about those things and respond when necessary. In other words, we have the responsibility to do the right thing when we notice something is wrong-- even if it's hard or uncomfortable. Of course, we then have to ask ourselves what is the right thing and who determines it. I am, however, a firm believer that teaching what is right and wrong falls on the community we grow up in-- our families, neighbors, friends, teachers, schools, etc.-- and when we fail to teach responsibility people get hurt and all hell breaks loose. Perhaps, that's why our nation is in its current state??

Now, more than ever, I understand the importance as a teacher to demand that my students take responsibility for themselves, their choices, and actions. Usually the lessons of responsibility I teach are small potatoes (dealing with missing work, getting to school on time, owning up to mistakes, etc.), but if I don't teach my students how to be responsible now, it could lead to something more serious in the future. I'll be honest, I'm a little overwhelmed by that responsibility, but I won't be able to sleep at night if I don't do my part.

Unfortunately, I have found myself in a situation where I am negatively affected by someone who didn't take responsibility for his/her actions. It's so hard for me to fight my anger against this person, to acknowledge it but not let it consume me. I'm also finding it hard to know what exactly I should do-- deciding which action is the responsible action. I am in a position where I could either walk away, do nothing, and quietly deal with the consequences of this person's actions. Or, I could take the risk of holding this person accountable for what happened and hope that in some way it might teach the importance of responsibility in the light of irresponsibility.

I am left to ponder. Do I walk the talk, or do I walk away? In the mean time, I guess I'll more conscientiously do my part to teach responsibility in my classroom--I just hope this is the lesson that sticks.

Thinking from my classroom

I'm really excited for the new semester and it's already off to a great start. One of the first activities I had my sophomores participate in was finding and responding to the deeper meaning in a text. I started by showing them Emily Dickinson's famous poem about hope and one of mine that was written in response to Dickinson's definition of hope (posted later on in this post). To take it a step farther, I had my students write briefly on how they would define hope after considering the definitions of the two poems. I was really pleased with how my students responded. There is always something amazing about watching the wheels turn in a young person's mind. Here are two student responses that really stuck out to me.

Student #1

Hope is the branch you grab while falling down a cliff.

Student #2

Hope is seeing the brighter side of a dark situation. [It's] like turning
the light bulb of hope on to bring light to a dark and bitter soul. It can
also burn out if relied upon too much or if hopes are too high and you're not
ready to accept the consequences of that hope not coming true.

The poem posted below is how I defined hope a few years ago and is the poem I shared with my students. After considering all of these thoughts on hope, dear reader, what are your thoughts?

Is hope a thing with feathers?
Can it really keep me warm?
She says it never asked a crumb of her,
But for me it takes a different form.

Hope stands haughty on a mountain top
Its golden coat shining in the sun
Majestic and inspiring
It lures me to push on.

When I finally reach it, though,
And stretch out my weary hand,
Its claws pop out and fangs appear
My heart, it demands.

Then it slowly eats away
At the things that I hold dear
Until there’s nothing left of it—
Not even my own tears.

Now I can’t help but ask myself,
Was Miss Emily right?
So much good can come from hope—
So much warmth and light.

But it only takes a moment
For Hope to change its fickle mind.
That’s when the beauty I once found in it,
No longer can I find.

"But Ms. H, my Dog Ate My Homework"

.... "But my dear student, perhaps you shouldn't have left it by his kennel," said the very over-the-lame-excuses teacher.

This post is just to give you an idea of where I'm at with school right now. We have a week until the end of the semester and so begin the excuses... Wanna know a little secret?? I'm over it.

The Edward R. Murrow Challenge

During my first year of teaching a friend/parent introduced me to the NPR radio show called "This I Believe." It originated from Edward R. Murrow in the 1950s as an attempt to unite the American public-- to help Americans see that we are all human and shouldn't let fear or differences drive us apart. Murrow initiated the show by asking Americans just one question: In 500 words or less, what do you believe to be true about life?

Wow! Talk about a loaded question. As a teacher, I saw this as a great opportunity for my Juniors and Seniors. Not only do I use it as a tool to talk about what a climate of fear can do to a group of people (as in the cold war, or even now for that matter), but it's a way to help kids really think about what they, not their parents, believe to be true. It's amazing what I get back from some of them and how close they let me get to their thoughts.

I'm a huge believer in practicing what I teach, but this assignment has me a little flustered. It's so hard to solidify what it is exactly that I believe. There are so many topics I could delve into like the importance of giving back, being human, forgiveness, empathy, making the most of each moment-- just to name a few. But how do I talk about those topics in just 500 words?? Now I fully understand why my 16-18-year-old students look like deer in head lights when I first present this assignment to them!

But, holding true to my pedagogy, I have decided to take Murrow's invitation as a personal challenge. After all, how can I ask my students to do something I haven't done myself? It might take me some time and require some space, but I'm going to do it. I think it's such a valuable exercise to think and then share what we believe. It helps us be human and helps us to recognize other humans-- something that is pretty rare in our society at the moment.

Wow, Murrow was smart! For that matter, whoever invented this whole blog thing is smart. I can't help but notice since I've started blogging how powerful it can be. I'm still amazed at its ability to unite perfect strangers just by allowing us to be human. There's important power in that. I just hope I can share that with my students and also continue to be a part of it myself.

Anybody else up for the Murrow challenge?? What do you believe to be true about life?

The art of letting go

Life has been a giant roller coaster lately. Yesterday was a really good day, and today started out fine but ended up taking a turn for the not-so-great. When I take a second to reflect on why today ended on such a different note, I can pretty much trace it back to one thing. For some reason I have a really hard time letting go.

I have a hard time letting go of battles that aren't worth fighting. I have a hard time letting go when I lose someone or something I hold dear. I have a hard time letting go when things won't go my way. I have a hard time letting go when I know it's time to let go, and a hard time letting go when I know the end is inevitable.

RRRRGGG!!! I feel like I've been forced to let go of a lot of things lately, more so than usual, and perhaps that's why I find myself on this crazy emotional roller coaster. The weird part is, I don't remember ever thinking I struggled with letting go. It almost feels like I woke up one day and "bam" it became an issue. But, maybe what really happened is that I woke up one day and opened my eyes to reality as an adult.

As I watch the people I respect most navigate through life, I've noticed that there is definitely an art to knowing when to hold on for dear life and knowing when to let go in order to embrace life. From my observations, it seems that the better one gets at deciphering when to say "when," the better off that person is.

"Lord, please grant me the wisdom to know when to hold on, when to let go, and the strength and grace to do both well."

A really good day

It was a really good day in the classroom today. It's days like this that remind me why I'm a teacher. Now, don't get me wrong, it wasn't a perfect day, but it was a really good day. That being said, I'm sure you're wondering why I chose the label of one of my favorite wines as the image for this post-- isn't it the bad days that warrant wine?? But, because it was such a good day, the only thing that could possibly top it off would be a glass or two of my favorite label and a good book. :)

See, I have this student that I'm kind of worried about. He's very smart and is an amazing writer; he just doesn't seem to care all that much about school and is thinking about dropping out. Today was different, though. We're learning about persuasive writing in his class, and I was trying to show the real-life relevancy of the skill. As we started talking about it, his apathy seemed to evaporate right before my very eyes. We even connected for a moment as he realized I was actually trying to help him, not teach him some bullshit fact or skill that he'd never use again. For the first time, he was the one drove our lesson with his questions and made it ten times better than I anticipated. I can't tell you how awesome it was to see this kid have this kind of moment-- now I just hope he sees the same potential within himself that I witnessed today.

This my friends, is what us teacher types call a "teaching moment." It's when everything we work so hard for suddenly pays off-- our message gets through, and the students "get it" -- not just a school "I get it" but a real "I get it." These moments make it all worth the effort.

With that fuzzy thought and a big glass of ten spoon to keep me cozy, I'm going to curl up with Eat, Pray, Love (the new book I'm falling in love with) and relish in the moment.

Shhh... I played hookie today

I'm trying to get my online teaching certification which involves taking some online classes. I'm in the fourth class of five, and so far the classes have taught me a lot. It's just hard to stay on top of it sometimes with a full-time job. So props to all of you out there that are doing the full-time job/taking classes gig. Your efforts have my utmost respect!

Needless to say, I played hookie from school today to get caught up. Save for one break (I just had to take a Naked Noodle lunch break), I've been sitting behind my laptop creating a blog I could use for class and learning about how to use the web to teach. I think I can stop for good today, though, and take in one of my favorite shows How I met Your Mother.

Thank goodness for sick days!

Carpe Diem

I'm feeling pretty lucky as far as my job goes these days. This is really great given that this school year got off to a less than favorable start. I've learned a lot from it, though, like how there are some things that can change, others that probably won't, and some that never will. As a result, I'm trying to focus mostly on what can be helped and not waste too much time, effort, or emotional energy on the things that aren't going to budge. Although I probably can't change the way an institution works or change some of the decisions the higher-ups might make, I can fix/control my attitude and the things I teach my students-- the whole reason I'm there in the first place, right?


In one of my classes we're learning how to find theme in all sorts of things-- poems, short stories, movies, essays, and lectures. I tried to choose pieces that had a theme dealing with Carpe Diem ("To Virgins: To Make Much of Time," The Last Lecture, The Dead Poet's Society, "Contents of a Dead Man's Pocket" just to name a few). I can't helped but be amazed at what some of my kiddos are taking away from these pieces. Watching my kids not only learn an important skill but also think about what Carpe Diem is and looks like for them reminds me of why I choose to do this job. It's not about tardy policies, legislation that is setting us up to fail, or the paycheck that barely gets me by. It's about helping my kiddos learn to think and chase after their dreams. It's pretty exciting to be a part of that.