Decade #9

Today is my dad's 80th birthday. He has now been on this earth for 8 full decades. That is inconceivable to me. Even though I am fully aware that my grandfather has nearly completed his 103rd year, an 80 year old father has no place in my brain. I clearly remember driving up to my grandfathers house many years old as he was coming down the ladder from his roof. After I explained to my son that he was in the process of reroofing his house, Dave asked how old he was and I responded "80" as if the words I had just spoken were actually 45 or 50. It was not unusual for my grandfather to do things like that. So my father is now the age my grandfather was so many summers ago. And no, it would not be a surprise to drive up my father's driveway and find him reroofing his house either. It is what those Allen men do. They live a long time and they do by themselves whatever needs to be done. I am definitely an Allen in every sense of the word - single-minded (stubborn) and independent (I'll do it myself!). However, I am often frightened of the Allen longevity trait. I am not employed in a job that has allowed for much saving for the future. And my single-minded, independent streak was not an asset in my divorce. I just wanted out and believed that I would somehow make ends meet because I was an Allen and that's what we do. Good for my self esteem but not for any long term financial goals. So here I am, thinking that I am nearing the end of my career but today am reminded that I have a 102 year old grandfather and now an 80 year old father. It is almost a given that I will live another 25 years. These breaks from school used to make me think about what else I could be doing but now I just think about retirement. Maybe I need a transition plan. Instead of when shall I retire, the new question of the day becomes what shall I do when I leave teaching? In the meantime, I will simply celebrate the Allen men and give thanks that I still have them both in my life, leading me through the obstacles and celebrating all the joys of this earthly life. I am a lucky girl.

A Grandma's Love

Why is it that the older I get, the more I miss Grandma? I am slowly but surely realizing how important she was to who I have become. This week I have watched my son-in-law go through the loss of his grandmother and I am reliving all the pain of saying good-bye to my own. There is just some kind of special relationship that we had that can never be severed, not even by death. When I look at the sadness in Bill's eyes it is eerily familiar. I am looking in the mirror 10 years ago. When I think about it or send e-mails or sympathy cards to Bill's family, it all comes back to me. The sadness, the feeling of untethered floating in air, the loss, always the loss. Then I look at Callie and know that Grandma is still teaching me. She is reminding me about what's important in life. It's the reason that everything stops when I'm with that beautiful baby. I pray that when I leave this earth, the lessons I leave behind will be in Callie's heart the way that Grandma's are in mine. Grandma is still teaching from that little corner of my heart that she has taken up residence in. It's relationships. It's time, spending time with those we care about and it's love, always the love. The love of my grandmother was like coming home. It was food and warmth and hugs. All my deepest childhood memories have her in them. Even my first trip home from college was a direct route from the airport to Grandma and Grandpa's house. And I can still feel the hugs, the warmth and yes, the food that was waiting for me there. That's what it is. The expectation, the waiting for us to get there. Grandparents wait for the children to arrive. There is preparation involved and in that preparation is the embodiment of love turned into solid matter that you can reach out and touch and hold in your hand. When they are gone we search for someone who waits for us and prepares for our arrival the way they did. But Grandma is telling me that it is my turn to now pay it forward. It is my time to prepare for children to arrive. To cook and hug and bandage boo boos followed with a kiss and every now and then to shake my finger and begin a sentence with "You kids better get down from there!"

Grandma, thanks for hanging in there with me until I finally got it. I love you and miss you, still miss you so very much. I'm so thankful for the memories of you and the lessons you taught me.

Egg!

The chickens came to live here 6 months ago - almost to the day. I have loved watching them grow from cute little baby chicks into those awkward things that look like they are constantly falling over each other into beautiful hens. And this morning I discovered my first egg. My first reaction was exactly what I expected it would be. Oh my god, one of the hens laid an egg. I carried it gently inside and then a myriad of thoughts ran through my mind. Ummm... this came out of the hen's butt. Am I really going to eat it? But the fact is that I couldn't wait to crack it open and see the difference between what I grew and what I buy. There is a real shell. Hooray! And yes it did look a little more yellow than what I'm used to. But no orange or redness. Another hooray. Now what to do? Put it in the pumpkin bread or a scrambled egg? I decided that because it was the first I wanted to know everything about it unadulterated by milk or hidden away inside a loaf of bread. I mixed it up and was stunned at the yellowness that abounded. The thing was almost all yolk. I carefully cooked it like the tiniest of omelettes and I have to say it was delicious. It definitely had a flavor to it. I wanted to call it gamey but not really so I guess I'll call it farmy. I'm just so happy and proud of what I have accomplished even though I really had little to do with it. When I returned to feed the girls another thought occurred to me. How strange it is that a mother would lay an egg and just walk away from it. I literally found it in the dirt outside the coop which means it must have been laid yesterday when they were roaming about. The laws of nature astound me. How many eggs does a young hen lay before she thinks about sitting on the thing to hatch it? It's all so interesting and so much fun getting closer to the earth.

Time. All We Have is Time

I am on break again and could easily go through the list in my head of all the things I love about this job of mine that gives me time, big chunks of time to breathe and rest and refresh. I could delineate everything I like about the hiatus from the stress and daily challenges of school. But everything on that list would come down to the same thing. Time. I lose all track of it in the work world. Time is simply the goal for getting things done. Ringing bells for changing periods, paperwork that has to be filed by some arbitrary date, meetings that start and end on time, grades that end the quarter, the semester, the year. But when I am on break, time is simply a form of measurement. Today is whatever day. Whatever gets done or doesn't get done has no connection to time. There is always another minute, hour, day to do it. And if it isn't important, it doesn't get done. Life goes on without interruption. In the working of the day, I just look up and say, "Oh it's 3:00 or 7:00" or whatever and continue to function based on where I am in time not what I thought was going to be done by this time. I love the freedom of it and it is the number one reason I think I will someday be a very successful retiree.

At this time of year, time takes on even more meaning. We have images and dreams in our heads of Christmas, of what it has been in the past and what we want it to be this time around. The beauty of it is all we need to do is stop and appreciate the moment we are in. It is all there; love of family and friends, honoring of family traditions, the making of new memories. It doesn't involve gift giving or big elaborate dinners or any of what we waste our energy on. It is simply taking the time to spend with one another. The time we have on this earth is finite. No one knows what that number is so at Christmas and all year though, I continue to try and remember that everything is about time. Not due dates or calendars but this moment, only this moment. It's all we have.

Throwing Down the Gauntlet

The past few weeks have seen an upswing in stress at school. Teachers, administrators and kids alike. One of the uglier ways it comes out in kids is harassment - a big word that means one kid makes another kid feel bad. It is one of the harder things to get 6th graders to understand about middle school. There is no more calling Mommy to tell you to behave. You are now responsible and you are responsible for what you do, say and even for the looks you give. If it makes someone else feel uncomfortable you are harassing them whether you meant it or not. It is a rude awakening into the real world for some. Lately we have had some more serious bullying going on - name calling to the extent of racial slurs. This is the line in the sand for all of us. Our students have difficulty understanding the emotional response from their teachers because they hear these words all the time and they mean nothing to them. They are on TV, in the movies, in their music, even in video games. So not only are we challenged to teach the hazardous effects of bullying but it also becomes a lesson in vocabulary and the history of these words. Today's reality is that kids are committing suicide over harassment. It's a new world out there with e-mail, texting, facebook all under the auspices of cyberbullying. There is no margin for error when we are talking about kids' lives.

Recently, a harassed student at our school told an administrator that he didn't think the racial slurs could be stopped. That was a challenge we are all ready and willing to take on. The vice principal and counselor made the rounds to the classrooms last week and now everyone is talking about it. I heard a student on the quad say, "Stop being a bully and give me back my soccer ball." There is an incredible sense of empowerment in that simple statement. We have named it for them and now they can deal with it head on.

Yesterday my kids wrote about it. Here are a few of my favorites:

Bullies have become a really big threat to students. Everyone has been bullied at least once. Bullies hurt people physically and emotionally and that affects a student’s academics. Teasing hurts kids. It makes them think of what’s going to happen instead of what is happening. What about school? They don’t think about school. Bullying might make you feel very powerful. You are really not getting any power by hurting someone. All you’re doing is causing fear in your environment. Do you feel powerful now?

Bullying changes others. Bullies hurt other people’s feelings. When people become depressed from bullying, their emotions change and they don’t act normally. Bullying discourages people and other people will think of themselves as people who are the outsiders. Often people don’t do well in school when they are bullied. Bullying is wrong and puts people down. Bullies think bullying is right but they just want power. They think that if they bully, they will get the power they want. People who try to get power from bullying don’t think about the other people who aren’t bullies. Power comes from positive things you do well. Making other people powerless doesn’t make the bullies more powerful.

Bullies, bullies, bullies. One thing I don’t get about life is bullies. All they do is make people feel bad about life and themselves. I say this because they put people down who they don’t even know. Some people who have been bullied have killed themselves. Why would someone want to be responsible for someone’s life? Maybe one reason they do it is to get power or feel better about themselves. I believe that power cannot come from others. It can only come from yourself and your achievements. Bullying is the worst thing that can happen to anyone in life and it could kill someone in the end.

Bullying is wrong because it hurts people’s feelings by insulting them. Insults hurt people a lot. When bullies insult people, it scares them and people think they are powerless. The only reason why the bullies bully people is because they want themselves to look cool. But it doesn’t make you look cool; it makes you look like a jerk. Bullies hurt innocent people’s feelings and that’s very rude. These people did not do anything to the bullies and they are forced to live in fear.

Many times people get bullied at schools for no apparent reason. Well, bullying is wrong. The bullied get abused emotionally and physically. Even if there is a reason behind it, it is just wrong. The bullies don’t think of how the bullied feel. They only think of power and everything in the present. They don’t think about the consequences. They should think ahead 20 minutes and better yet, 20 years and how their life could change horribly for bullying.

Bullying can cause a negative effect on people mentally and physically. People can feel powerless, weak, or worthless. Bullies can affect someone’s emotions very strongly which will give them nightmares that they’ll never forget. Bullying allows everyone to stay in fear and never express themselves because they hate the thought of being bullied or laughed at. Kids might not want to go to school because of the thought of being bullied. Bullying can affect someone’s focus in school because of the hated thoughts constantly lingering in their head. Bullying is wrong and puts people down. Most bullies think bullying is right but all they really search for is power. They think that if they bully they’ll be powerful. Bullies never give a second thought about the victims being bullied. The truth is that power must come from success that you earn throughout life. You can’t gain power so easily. You earn power with the good traits that will guide you in the future.

Bullying is wrong because it puts people down. First of all, bullying creates negative effects both mentally and physically. Many kids think they don’t look good enough or that their clothes are out of style and ugly. Bullying makes kids feel insecure. Harsh comments and name calling that bullies say to kids make them feel unworthy and not good enough. Most bullies are just searching for power. They try to gain power by taking power away from others, making them powerless. But the truth is that power doesn’t come from making others powerless. You must gain power doing good things like getting good grades and being talented. Everyone has something they’re good at to gain power, not by bullying.

Bullying. Put-downs. Insults. It will never stop, will it? Bullies do all these things for cheap laughs and thrills. It’s like everybody forgot the golden rule, “Do unto others as you want them to do to you.” So overall, if all the bullying that the bully did to someone returned to them, a load of depression mixed with anger and sadness would hit them. Scientists have figured out why bullies bully. They do it for power because they feel powerless themselves. But power can’t come from bullying; it will just bring you down in your social life. True power comes from what you like doing, like soccer or art, even just talking to your friends. I’m not telling you to change yourself, just think about how you would feel if you got bullied.

Bullying is wrong because it changes the way people feel about themselves. As bullies are constantly reminding the victim about their mistakes, and other people agree, they feel that they are incorrect the whole time and that whatever the bully says is correct. They can be taken advantage of more often because of these negative feelings. Bullies think differently. They think that bullies have nothing to do with other people’s feelings and that each person is in charge of controlling their own feelings. Sadly, they are mistaken. Bullying can change one’s emotions. One minute they feel totally confident with themselves, the next depressed and shy. This can make them grouchy with their peers and/or lose focus in class discussions and assignments. If bullying were to stop, I think it would make a huge difference in everyone’s lives.

Look Behind You

While out on yard duty this morning, I saw a fascinating thing. We all know that middle school students pride themselves on hiding from the world. They are uncomfortable with almost everything about their self image. Today I saw a boy get out of his mom's car standing up straight and tall. but as she drove away he put his hood over his head, slumped over and nearly crawled toward the gate to school. I thought "Mom! Quick! Look in your rear view mirror and look at who your child is for 6 hours a day. " We don't really know who are kids are we are not around. But this was so dramatic. I practically screamed my Good Morning at him but of course he did not look up. Yes. This is what I do. Scream nicities at kids who are hiding from themselves and the rest of their world. I know that particles of my good mornings and how are yous somehow find their way to their target because a few days later I am often gifted with the little half smiles that are just enough to encourage me to keep at it and do it again day after day.

Becoming Home

I am becoming the home that I used to miss. It occurred to me today on my way home from my Callie Time that Thanksgiving had passed without tears and the preparations for Christmas do not have that gray spot in them. There isn't the sadness that comes from me missing home this time of year. Home was never a house, it was people. It was Grandma and Grandpa, Mom and Dad and all the trimmings - aunts, uncles cousins, neighbors stopping by. All that Iowa stuff that I never figured out how to recreate in California. And I never got over it. Even in the hustle and bustle of raising babies and getting educated and finding jobs I never got over missing the memory of home. It was one of the few things I could never figure out - why didn't it get easier as the years went by. I've been in California 34 years and the hole was always there. I don't ever remember a Thanksgiving passing without feeling teary and lamenting the smell of Grandma's kitchen, the steamy windows and the love, all that love that surrounded me. This year I was just surrounded by the spirit of Grandma without the sadness. And today I got it. I am now the grandma creating those smells and tastes for this new generation. I have moved down a branch on the family tree. It's funny how I keep getting these new awakenings and every one of them takes me by surprise and leaves me with a smile. Life just keeps getting better and better.

Callie's Overnight

Callie and I have had our first overnight experience and it was everything and more that I expected. My sister often says that being a grandma is heaven and I guess that explains it as well as any other word I could come up with. I know it's nothing like anything else I've ever experienced. If love was matter that you could reach out and touch, it would look and smell and taste just like Callie.

Friday night was wonderful. We sang and played and walked and talked. I knew the sleeping part would be a challenge and it was but we both survived it. Once I remembered that Grandma's house was ordained as a place to be spoiled, I could let go of the rules of sleep. Then when morning came, the most amazing thing happened. She rolled over, looked up at me and smiled and laughed. Not only my heart, but my entire being melted in that baby giggle. We got up and started the day together - getting dressed, eating breakfast, feeding the dog and hanging out with the hens. Yes, my sister is right. Being a grandmother is heaven.

In the words of Julie Andrews, "These are a few of my favorite things."
The way she nuzzles into that space between by chin and chest, moves her head back and forth and settles into me
The way she holds my thumb that's holding the bottle as she eats her breakfast
The way she looks into my eyes and lets me know that she is trusting me with everything
That smile that is followed by that laugh. I swear if we could patent that, there would never be another war.
The way she caresses the skin on my neck between her thumb and fingers
The babbling that is so earnest and sweet
Yes, these are my favorite things. From this day forth, when I'm feeling sad, I will simply remember Callie and our first night together.

Student Reflections

My new favorite thing to do since I jumped to middle school is to have kids evaluate their own learning. I learn so much about my teaching that I would never ever figure out without them sharing their thoughts in their own words. We recently completed the novel Esperanza Rising so it was time to reflect. Two of the questions asked them to reflect on their thoughts on the book and to consider how their reading has improved from the activities we did. Here are a few of my favorites:

I really think that Esperanza Rising was a good book because it taught me that money is not always the most important thing. My reading improved a lot because some words I didn't even know existed were taught to me and I learned them.

I liked this book in the beginning. The middle was great but the end needs work. I learned more words and the book's message made my thinking improve.

I like the book a lot. It teaches people that you can go through a lot of changes and still be happy. Nothing is better than family. My reading has improved because I didn't really like the book at first but then I started reading more which got me interested.

I loved the book. It gave me understanding and hope and reminded me that everyone should be grateful for having a family. It taught me how to accept me for me. My last thought would be to be happy for what you have. My reading improved dramatically. It allowed me to think of questions which led to great ideas. It gave me an opportunity to increase the suspense in stories. Also, it allowed me to never quit while reading because maybe in the next page it might get interesting.

I thought the book was pretty good. It had a lot of surprising parts in it. It has given me patience in reading because I always had to wait before reading the next chapter.

I thought the book was really exciting and mind catching. I never wanted to put down the book. There were many events that made me wonder and ask questions so that was good. I would honestly say that it was one of the best books I have read. We are now more skilled and we take a lot more time to think about books. We have gained more knowledge to reflect on our reading. We will now read books more carefully.

Esperanza Rising is one of my top 6 favorite books. It helped me understand that when you read, you really need to think about what's happening in the story.

Esperanza Rising was a really good book. It reminded me of my grandma's life when she was younger. Well, I still think my reading is the same, but this has encouraged me to read different books.

The book has kind of made me think that money isn't everything and to like what you have while you still have it. It made me believe that I can read a long book if I put my thoughts into it.

I think it has changed my perspective about things because I used to think reading novels like this was boring but now I don't. I learned a lot of things about reading realistic fiction. I learned that maybe reading realistic fiction would be kind of fun.

It taught me a lesson. I changed. I'm a completely different person and I will never be the same way again.

Play Dates and Pixie Dust Brighten Abuela's Week

By ANA VECIANA-SUAREZ

aveciana@MiamiHerald.com

I've been looking forward to this all week, daydreaming at my desk, plotting activities over lunch. This will be the absolutely, most completely perfect Sunday: The grandchildren are coming! The grandchildren are coming! It's the start of summer vacation and the night before Christmas all rolled into one.

I'm a grandmother lucky enough to live within 10 minutes of my three granddaughters, a veritable hop-skip-and-jump from a world of pixie dust and tea parties. I pilfer moments to visit during the week, but my long days and their early bedtimes translate into scarce opportunities.
Until the weekend. And even then a full-scale play date requires careful planning around the kids' busy social schedule -- birthday parties galore! -- and delicate negotiations with the other sets of grandparents. I'm not above shameless bribery.

``I have chocolate,'' I tease over the phone one afternoon. ``Lots of chocolate. And cookies.''
At home they adhere to strict dietary guidelines. At Abuela's house . . .

``The butterfly is waiting for you,'' I tell them another day. And it is, a dead tiger swallowtail that I laid to rest in a jewelry box. Though its yellow and black wings are dry and crumbly, it remains a prized possession, as do a bird's nest abandoned in the bushes and a snake skin I found while weeding.

``We'll go swimming,'' I add, pulling out all the stops. This is a favorite activity, done best with their Zayde, who doesn't care how many times his shampooed hair gets wet.

Then Sunday dawns cloudless and balmy, Miami's attempt at fall weather. All three -- my son's twins and my daughter's toddler -- are deposited on my doorstep and I practically slam the door in their parents' anxious faces. So many rules, so many mandates. I can't believe I've produced such persnickety grownups.

Then, finally, we're alone and together: Let the good times roll.

We bake cookies for Uncle Ben away at college, plucking the chocolate chips out of the dough without remorse.

We study the grass snake that has slipped into the bathtub through the drain pipe and practice the sound of the letter S until we collapse in giggles.
Then, as the sun -- another S! -- settles behind the areca hedge, we go bug-hunting, a bald baby doll and red wagon in tow.

``Skip the children,'' my husband advises friends. ``Go straight to grandchildren. It's a lot more fun.''

He's right. Grandparenting is the ice cream sundae without the calories, the shop-till-you-drop extravaganza without the credit card bills. In other words, pleasure without responsibility.
And yet, cuddling with the third generation fills you with precisely that: a sense of duty, a recognition of accountability. The sweet scent of their sweat, their outstretched arms, the lips puckered for a wet kiss, the soft melody of their childish voices -- all these infuse me with energy and determination. There's a clarity of purpose that arrives with your children's children. The world, and your place in it, becomes more meaningful.

Ah, so this is the reward for all the heartaches of childrearing.

An old friend says my face changes when I speak of my grandchildren. It softens, it opens, it turns welcoming and vulnerable.

I don't doubt it. It's a reflection of my brimming heart. In their presence I feel suddenly and inexplicably beautiful.

I Don't Really Think of Myelf as Adventurous

I often wonder how much of who I am today is a result of my Iowa rearing. My childhood is now a thing I think of as in long, long ago time but sometimes I have no other explanation for my view of life compared to those around me. This past weekend my two dear friends and I had reserved our calendars for our annual "girls' weekend." The three of us have a tradition now of going away for a weekend with the intention to mostly drink and talk and laugh. We all look forward to it and know that it has cemented our friendship in strange and wonderful ways. This year the plan was to hang out in the Healdsburg/Santa Rosa area. We had lovely hotel reservations and plans for lunch at Healdsburg Bar and Grill followed by some wine tasting.. Then the ominous Friday morning weather report suggested that the first storm of the season rolling through might result in 1-3 inches of rain in the north bay. My world view was to e-mail them both with some lighter-than-air comment that we should be prepared for rain and staying inside drinking fine wine and enjoying our fine friendship. Well the elder of the group somehow got worried about the rain and the "danger" of driving home in the imagined blinding storm. She somehow convinced the driver of the group that this was indeed dangerous and the plans came to a screeching halt. I returned to my classroom after lunch on Friday to a voice mail that I just couldn't quite fathom. No weekend away because it's going to rain? Huh? Is this a joke? My first mental response was that I have to find some new friends. Seriously! You're going to let a little rain put a stop to our annual tradition? I had no place to put this in my brain. So I sent a text expressing my sadness. Well, there were several more texts, e-mails and phone calls over the next few hours. But the end result was that we had a lovely Saturday lunch at the Ritz Carlton in Half Moon Bay and spent the night at The Grand Hotel in Sunnyvale. That's right - Sunnyvale. We, of course, had a wonderful time and laughed endlessly about the "storm." The only explanation I have come up with for my lack of fear in all this is that I was raised in Iowa. You just never know what will happen in the midwest. You walk out the door in the morning and you could be returning to anything that night - rain, sleet, ice, snow. Has that "ready for anything" view of the world become a part of my being or does life just not scare me? I don't have the answer to this one and I am still blown away at how one person's fear can rewrite a much anticipated weekend. But the good news is that if you're looking to stay in town locally, The Grand Hotel has free, yes, free drinks from 5-7 and free breakfast in the morning. You can spend the night in a little bungalow for hardly anything with your very own own kitchen, living room and bedroom. It definitely ended up being our cheapest weekend ever! And we had a lot of laughs, talked about everything under the sun, and drank some fine wine. I came back refreshed and feeling better than ever about life. But the question about fear and danger still nag at me. I don't really think of myself as adventurous and am curious about the things in life that seem to scare other people What are they missing because of what they think may happen?

Superman?

If it isn't Superman that can change things in the American educational system, who is going to save us? I saw Waiting For Superman over the weekend and it is still with me. My heart broke for those 5 kids and their families and I don't think I'll ever be the same again. I am a reader of almost anything about education so nothing in the movie was new or shocking to me. Perhaps it was just seeing it all laid out in one place that tore me apart. I have been embarrassed by my job on many instances but leaving that theater was a bit closer to humiliation than I have ever been before. Am I really a part of this system that knowingly chooses not to educate children, that protects the teachers while sacrificing the students and even the schools that work, stratifies them into those who will have college as an option and those who will not? Numbers don't lie. How do you deal with knowing the fact that there is only a 12% chance that a student who lives in a specific neighborhood will graduate high school and be equipped for college level courses? I don't work in a "bad" school but I am a part of a system that is broken. The problems appear too complex to fix from within but it seems that other people are able to do what we cannot. Charter schools are doing some incredible things with kids the public system has turned its back on. It is time to rephrase the statement that schools are bad because they are in bad neighborhoods. We have created bad neighborhoods out of bad schools. That is still a hard concept to wrap my head around. For 50 years I have believed what I have been told by the media, by police reports and by all sorts of books that have been written. I have worked in east San Jose and Tyler, Texas and seen it for myself. And I believed, truly believed that there was so little that could be done in the schools because of everything I saw in the neighborhood. Never did I think to tip that thought on its head and place the blame on the "man in the mirror." Now it is time to think about the possible. It is time to question my role as a teacher and who I serve. I have had 2 recurring thoughts over the past few days. One, that I am really good at teaching beginning readers. Perhaps I would be a stronger cog in the wheel back in primary. At least kids would have the first building block in place. And, second, I could easily see myself in a charter school. I am the teacher that is willing to teach longer and harder to be sure that kids succeed. Is this a fork in the road for me? Only time will tell. All I know is that every decision I make about teaching has now taken on greater importance. There is much to fix in this mess we have made of our school system. But I do believe that if everyone can simply put kids in the forefront, a huge improvement can be made. Yes, that means the removal of tenure and a serious re-evaluation of teacher evaluation. Let's get the bad ones out. Our kids and their future are too important to put in the hands of mediocrity or worse. It is time to stand up for kids.

The Thing About Teaching

The thing about teaching is that you never know when you're going to stumble and fall and in like manner you never know when your heart will skip a beat. Today, it just so happens that I had the pleasure of experiencing both ends of the spectrum.

Here is my favorite "Most Powerful Thing in the World" expository paragraph:

"A mother's love is the most powerful thing in the world. A mother is there for you from day one and will always be there for you even when she's gone. When you are little and trip and fall, she makes it better with her warm loving care. When you are five and it is your first day of school she cries because you are growing up. When you get home, her curiosity runs wild wondering how your day went. These are just a couple reasons why a mother's love is the most powerful thing in the world."

Sweet!

And this one has to come in second place...

"My dad is the most powerful thing in the world. He is really strong and has big hands. He sometimes scares people with his rough looking face. He can cook the most wonderful things in the world - beef stew - and sometimes he even smells like the food he cooks. What's great about my dad is that he can chug gallons and gallons of water. He is also smart because he can answer all of my questions. But he's not only good with strength, he's also good at cheering people up. That's why my dad is the most powerful thing in the world."

And there's this one which will only touch you if you know about the challenges of middle school.

"My family is the most powerful thing in the world. They protect me, help me and they comfort me. They sometimes help me if I am in trouble or I'm in a fight. They will just stop the fight like a referee. But the other thing is that my family won't stop until it's over. I don't really need to do anything wrong but if I do they've got my back. The other thing is that my family won't ever give up on me. My family is the most powerful thing in the world."

And, finally, the A+ paper...

"I believe that the most powerful things in the world would be persistence and strength. I honestly believe that with these two things you can overcome and achieve anything you put your mind to. I think that persistence and strength are important because if you have persistence, you will never quit trying. If you want something or want to reach a goal, you will prevail. With strength, you will be unstoppable and will refuse to listen to anything negative that other people say to you. As long as you know who you are, that's all you need. With these two important materials you will be unstoppable and able to achieve anything, which will lead you to a very successful future. That is why I think persistence and strength are the most powerful things in the world."

The Slump

I felt my first slump today. It's been a pretty crazy year so far but I was feeling so good about taking everything as it came until today. I love my class and was convinced that the third year in middle school was a turning point for me. Today was a department level ELL day and one thing just let to another and before I knew my head was pounding, my jaw was tightening and I was overcome with the need to leave the room. I considered going back into special ed and then mulled about the idea of running a day care and finally settled on retirement. Oh darn! I still have that pesky house payment. I guess I better get ready to ride the wave.

Not That Kind of Grandma

All the months leading up to the momentous birth of my granddaughter were filled with images of all the grandmothers I had known and defining which one of them I would become. I was not going to be that grandmother that filled her tiny little house with all kinds of baby things so that it seemed that the baby actually lived there. But it seems that little by little, I am becoming that grandmother. Somehow in that little Parisian apartment my transformation became complete and I told my favorite little family that I wanted Callie to start spending the night at my house. Now, my grandma vision was that would happen when she was sleeping in the "big" bed. But one thing I have learned over and over again in the past month is that we only have this day, this moment, now. That's it. No promises of next year or next month or even tomorrow. So the slumber parties at Grandma's Farm are about to commence. And I, for one can't wait!

My Life's Work

I am a teacher. I say that with pride and feel my heart flutter with the rhythm of the words. The journey of my profession has been long and full of twists and turns. My desire to teach was born with my children. It grew with them and it only seemed natural for me to follow them to school when the time arrived. I learned an unfathomable amount about the processes that go on in the brain from my early days in kindergarten and first grade. I have carried it with me to this day where I still use that knowledge in the 6th grade classroom. Yesterday I met with my principal to review our most recent test scores and was thrilled to find out that my students' scores as a group met the goals set my the state on each test taken. My first reaction was absolute shock because only being in my third year at middle school, I still have frequent moments where I doubt that I know what I'm doing and wonder if any of it is having an effect on the 11 year old mind. I am proud and happy and thrilled for my students. Now, one would think that after hearing that news I would relax a bit and rest for just a moment on my laurels but not this girl. It has rejuvenated my brain and spirit. If my kids have met these learning goals with me questioning what I'm doing, what can I do with this knowledge. Now that I know my effectiveness the bar has been lifted even higher. I am more dedicated than ever to bring my best to my kids. There's a part of me that just can't wait for Monday morning!

Summer to School

There are all kinds of differences between summer and the school year but I think that I may have discovered one that affects a whole bunch of the rest of them. It is mindfulness. Mindfulness is connected to living in the moment and I am an expert at that when I am on vacation from school. Every day begins with an awareness of what I want to do today, followed by the question, "Is that what I really want to do?" The day unfolds and changes are made as needed. I either change the itinerary or re-evaluate the importance of the project at hand. The day ends when I decide that I have had enough. Of course none of that is possible in the work world. There is simply a list of things that need to be done, have to be done. The only variable is the priority of the items. As opening day gets closer and closer some of those things either move up or down on the list of priorities and boom! before you know it, we are anticipating lines of kids outside the door. So in the days before school starts I have the constant feeling of being lost in my work. I look at the clock and have no idea where the past half hour, 45 minutes, hour just went. Partly I have the feeling that all that time was spent on trivial paper work, nothing of value and partly I am just disoriented by not knowing where I am in space and time. It is such a dramatic shift from my summer of leisure and it's not a valuable use of my time. I'm not actually teaching or working with kids and making a difference in anyone's life. So all of a sudden I am out of summer and thrown into school with no idea of where I am. I feel lost and overwhelmed and I am grieving the loss of being in charge of my own life. Mindfulness. That is what I am searching for now. Just knowing what I'm doing and the importance of the minutes as they tick by. And that as each job is finished I take a moment to say, "Nice, check that one off the list and let's move on to the next." It is simply a slowing down and breathing and acknowledging that, ye,s this mindless paper work is important, it is all part of this thing called teaching which I am called to do.

Gardening with Joan

Several years ago a much beloved teacher left this earth after a long and valiant fight against cancer. She was the impetus behind a school garden and when she died, the garden was dedicated to her with a promise made that her seeds of love and learning would forever be planted. On several occasions I have worked in the garden to keep it going and every time I have had the same feeling. It is the closest I have come to being in communication with those that have crossed over. I feel her loving warmth, see her smile, and hear her raucous laughter. I know that she is watching over that garden and that I am her hands on earth.

I happened to be at the school last week and my heart absolutely broke when I saw the garden overrun with weeds and runaway poppies. State flower or not, poppies can be as deadly as dandelions when left untended. As the days went by, I couldn't get the vision of Joan's garden out of my mind and I knew I had to do something about it. So my final Sunday of summer vacation was spend hanging out in the garden with Joanie. There is nothing better that I could have done with that morning than weed and haul and plant and water.

Not only did I get to be in the company of Joan but I was also reminded of the fun of being around an elementary school. It is the center of the neighborhood. It's where everything happens on the weekends - soccer and baseball games, family picnics, walkers and runners getting their workout. Dads bring their kids here to play catch and teach them to ride bikes with and without training wheels. You can't help but smile watching men nurture their children and pass on their life lessons.

Joan, I thank you for the lessons you taught me in our time together and I am eternally grateful that our relationship continues on in the dirt of the garden. I promise that your seeds of love and learning will always be planted for the children who never had the joy of meeting you but who will know you in your blooms that live on.

School Is In The Air

If you really take the time to notice, you can feel an ever so slight dip in the morning temperatures, those pink August lilies are blooming, and the coming of school is in the air. While it is hard to shift gears again so quickly, I really do like the feeling of going back. I am a person who likes order and fits into routine quickly. As much as I love the openness of summer I am always ready for the return of the orderliness of the academic year. It has become part of the turning of the seasons in my life. I don't remember liking the beginning of school as a child, it made me nervous. Someone new was taking over for my "favorite" teacher. There were new kids to meet and everything was going to be just a little bit harder. But life on the other side of the desk is different. It is the feeling of hope reborn once again. A new bunch of kids are on their way. They bring with them new stories, jokes, and challenges. The dream of being the best that I can be is reborn. It is the blank notebook that is waiting to be cracked open and the first letter to be written that will become the story of a new school year. I like everything about it but one of my favorite things is shopping for new school supplies and watching the interchange between kids and their moms as they choose the "perfect" binder, backpack, notebooks, folders and pencils. I'm looking for bargains but they are searching for acceptance from their peers and the moms seem to remember feeling those feelings. It is a new beginning where anything is possible, a fresh start for everyone. I head back to the classroom and slowly start pulling things out of their summer storage and find a place for each item. It is never ever the same place it was in just 2 short months ago because I love the look of old things in new places. Recreating the classroom walls is the closest I ever come to being artistic. It is my blank canvas where I choose just the right color that will mellow out the excitement of the early days but still feel like home in June. The border is added and some sort of message is created that welcomes them into the world of learning that will slowly be revealed over the course of the next 180 days. It is the crackle of unwrapping bundles of notebooks and sharpening pencils, the stacking of new books and labeling, the endless labeling of names that today have no meaning but in a matter of days will have stories attached to them that I will never forget. I love the emptiness of the new beginning and knowing that the peacefulness of the empty classroom will very soon become a chaos that is unable to be contained within those four walls. It is a time for planning when nothing gets in your way - no kids or parents or meetings or personal obligations. Yes, anything is possible, lessons and units are taught flawlessly in my mind and every thought and dream ends in success. It is every teacher's dream. New beginnings. A new year is on the brink of being born. I am ready for its joys and challenges. I am ready to laugh and lament at these kids who will for a year become like family. I am ready to learn again and push my boundaries just a tiny bit more. Welcome year number 21. Let's do it.

Alaska

Here it is! The most amazing thing that I have ever seen in my life!



Although I had seen hundreds of pictures of Alaska and its grandeur, nothing could prepare me for what I was about to experience. When people ask me about it, I am left relatively speechless. We overuse words in the English language so there are no words left to describe extreme experiences and emotions like this was for me. The first one that comes to mind is awesome but that doesn't work anymore. I like to say that I was awestruck. That helps to explain my silence. It was amazing, unbelievable, and any other extreme adjective that comes to mind. I knew that I would cry when I actually saw the glacier because I have always been teary just watching them break away and splash into the ocean on a monitor of any sort. That was about the melting, the loss, the irretrievability and finality of it. But that wasn't it when I actually saw and heard it. It was just so beautiful. I have never cried at seeing natural beauty before. This was a first. I was struck by thinking about those rocks and frozen water that had literally been carried through eons of time and here they were being dropped at our feet to do with as we would. It is such an awesome responsibility. (There's that word again.) Everything was much more intense than I expected. The blue of the sky and the sun glistening on icebergs floating by. The sight of splashing chunks being sheared off and the slight delay before hearing the splash followed by the oohs and ahhs of the humans witnessing the new water being born. Seeing a fishing boat float by and seeing how small we all are in comparison to the massiveness of glaciers and mountains and oceans. Being amazed at the wonder of nature when we allow it to work its magic - snow, rain, ice, water - and how we humans have the power to mess it up so easily even when we have no intention to do so. After all, what was the increase in my annual carbon footprint as I floated by on this 9 story hotel just so I could witness Mother Nature in action? This glacier was what the trip to Alaska was all about for me. The rest were all extras. And there were a lot of extras. The Float Plane tour over the glaciers around Juneau gave me the aerial perspective which is completely different. There were jagged peaks and crevasses that literally scared me and a blue so blue that I felt like I had never seen blue before. I saw whales and dolphins and eagles and never lost the amazement of it. There is absolutely nothing like witnessing animals in their own environment. I loved the smallness of the towns in Alaska and the awareness that there is no choice given the terrain. You can't really grow a city when surrounded by mountains on 3 sides and the ocean on the other. I had the feeling that this will always be as it is today and the ruggedness of it is the gift that will keep it so. I know in my head that we humans will find a way to destroy it because we have dynamite and other explosive tools at our disposal but I hope that we won't feel the need for that for many generations to come. I want my children and my grandchild to look at a piece of our world that has been unspoiled and to know that once long, long ago, it was all this beautiful.

Brithday Gratitude

My birthday has always been a day of gratitude. As a small child, the day was completely dedicated to me. That was really something in a family of 6 and I have never forgotten the importance of having a day that was all mine to do with as I pleased. To this day, my birthday is one of my favorite days of the year, second only to Thanksgiving. It turns out that the two days are more closely related than I would have thought. My birthday has always been a day of gratefulness. As a child it was getting what I wanted to eat for dinner, those beautifully wrapped presents, family time and of course, cake! As I aged, the feeling of blessed began to appear until today that is what the whole day is all about. I start my day reading my cards and e-mail messages and am reminded of my love for the written word. Love put into words becomes eternal. The rest of the day cannot compare to that simple event of just opening myself up to receive love from my family and friends. As the hours tick by I find myself looking back on my life lived and forward to whatever is to be. It is just a wonderful feeling to stop and ponder all that I have been given. This year the feeling has intensified to the nth degree. I am just in a wonderful place in time. I still have no wealth in monetary measure but am I ever rich. Callie has opened up brand new hopes and dreams for all that is yet to be. I love watching Maria and Bill parent and talk about parenting. My relationship with Dave has never been better. Nothing can compare with the laughs we have had in the past few months. I am reminded of how lucky I am to have my parents in my life as well as my grandfather. Not many people have the chance to follow their life guides this far on the journey. I just feel like I have it all. I live in a perfect climate, have great friends with all I can eat right outside my back door. I just can't imagine a life better than mine. Today is a day of gratitude. Thanks, Mom and Dad for giving me life and leading me to this point. I am a very happy woman.

Blessing Callie - Final Version

Callie Helena,
May you always know the circle of love that surrounds you at this moment. Let it bring you strength so that you can draw from it whenever you may need to.

Listen to your heart. It will guide you In all things.

You are a unique and special being and are here for a purpose that only you can fulfill. Believe in yourself and become who you were meant to be.

Live mindfully and fearlessly. Be happy. And dance, Baby, dance.

Blessing Callie - Version 1 (too long)

Callie Helena, you slid into this world and blessed us all by magically turning us into parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles, friends and guardians of your very being.

You have been born from and into love, may you always be embraced by it and know the strength that it will bring you.

Your name means beauty and it fits you perfectly. May you be surrounded with grace and beauty all the days of your life.

May you be blessed with good health and live a long and happy life.

May you always know that you are a unique and special being and that you have been born for a purpose that no one else can fulfill. Believe in yourself and be the you that you are the meant to be.

May you forever know the bounty of planet Earth that has been placed in your hands.

My hope for you is a life well lived, filled with true happiness, the joy of simple gifts that will make you rich beyond measure, and the love of adventure that will fulfill all your wildest dreams.

Dearest Callie,
On this your blessing day, we send forth the love that has been tucked away in our hearts, that it may surround you and protect you all the days of your life. Call upon it whenever you need to and it will give you strength. You have blessed us all by coming to Earth and we give thanks for your love, your grace and your beauty. In return, we promise to guide and nurture you in all things - physical, intellectual, and spiritual. You are a special gift to each of us and we are eternally grateful. We promise you our unending love and devotion.

Going "Home"

I am back home from my summer visit to Iowa. I make the trip often mainly for the purpose to see my grandfather. Iowa was my home for 17 years. My roots are there but I often forget that until I am back there. The dichotomy between life in Iowa and California is immense. It is hard to believe that a person can be raised in the simplicity of an agrarian culture and somehow find a way to create life in the craziness that is California. But my visits to Iowa always somehow complete me. It is the "Oh yeah. I remember this." It puts the pieces back together and the picture puzzle finally comes into view. My trip always includes drive-bys of the different houses my family lived in and of my grandparent's old house, a visit to my brother's grave, and seeing relatives and family friends. My head and heart overflow with each visual image. The memories flood my mind, both good and bad and I suddenly remember what I loved about Iowa as a child and hated as a adult. It is cold - no frigid, in the winter, and hot and humid and unbearable in the summer. But it is also incredibly beautiful with green flowing fields of corn and soy beans. Cool summer evenings bring the miracle of lightning bugs. The people are down to earth and of the earth. Everybody there gets the importance of a vegetable garden. It is not uncommon at all to see portions of even front yards dedicated to tomatoes and beans. Everything there seems big - big yards, big views, wide expanses of land dedicated to freeway exits that you just don't see in California. It is miles and miles to the grocery store but in-between your house and the store are those beautiful corn fields, the K-12 school I attended, the creek where my little brother died and finally stores come into view. Life in Iowa is more thought out. There is more planning for things as simple as meals and what we're going to do today. Californians would never dream of stocking up the way Iowans do. They live the realities of what nature might bring - tornadoes, hail, floods, destruction of crops and your way of life, snow, ice, blizzards. Life in Iowa is hard. I am reminded that it is there that at least some of my strength came from as a child. Iowans endure, they overcome adversity and they come out on the other side. There is a dedication to family and neighbors that is uncommon today. People know you and your family, what your siblings have done or where they are now living. It's a little like having a family tree imprinted on your forehead at birth. It is disarming and takes me by surprise every time I am there. There is a welcoming attitude in everyone you meet. People say hi and greet you as you pass. They are friendly and helpful. While I love being there while I am there, I am always happy, almost relieved to come back home. Ah... California. This is the me now. I love my house, love my yards, love my dog, and love being close to my kids. This is home.

Crossing a Line

I am a person who has always embraced change. I believe it has become a central part of my being. I am constantly learning and in a state of flux. My beliefs in people and principles are deeply effected by new information. This is all usually for the better. The past year has brought stability in my work world but anything but that in my life at home. It is incredible to think that a year ago I was teaching summer school and would come home to a daily schedule of methodically ripping out what was left of a lawn in the front yard. Yes, I was going native in hopes of stopping the needless water waste of keeping grass alive in this medeterranean climate. No big deal really. But it seems to have been the catalyst for opening a flood gate of changes around here. The front yard is now native and definitely looking better. The back lawn is also gone as well as the maple tree and one of the redwoods. In their place is a lot more sunlight and vegetables and herbs that are feeding me daily. That all seemed logical to me; a no brainer. I have gone back to canning and freezing my own food. I somehow feel like this is also at my core having been raised in Iowa. But now, I think, a line has been crossed. Inside my house, you will find 3 baby hens. And very soon there will be a chicken coop and run for the hens in the back yard. I don't know anyone beyond my grandparents who have ever raised chickens so this is all new territory for me. People make judgments about me now that they didn't before. Once you start raising chickens you move a bit on the spectrum. Your behavior is no longer predictable in the eyes of your friends and family. When you joke about buying a farm, no one really knows if you'll do it or not. It is fun to keep them guessing but it also makes you wonder about yourself. If you have done all this in 12 months time, what might be next? Who are you becoming? What will your house and yard look like a year from now? I am definitely on that other side now and almost anything is possible.

Rejuvenated

Summer is a time to reset the teaching clock. No one who isn't a teacher or doesn't hang around with teachers can possibly understand this. Most just think it is a "vacation." I really don't think I could keep doing this year after year if there weren't a few weeks in the year when I'm wasn't doing it. I know that sounds strange coming from a person who proclaims to be dedicated to her profession. Last summer was a serious challenge with only 3 weeks between school and summer school and school again. This summer I made a conscious choice to make a break in between. We are losing a week of summer already because of a schedule change made by the district. I'm not one of those complaining about it but even if I wanted to do it, I knew this was not the year to do summer school. Instead I signed up for a workshop the week after school was out. On the first day, I was wondering what I was thinking and by day 4 it was getting harder and harder to drag myself out the door but I was glad I did it. It was one of those events that invigorated me and made me happy to be a teacher again. Those moments are not that common anymore in this time of standards and high stakes testing and everyone feeling like they know what and how you should teach. Teaching as a profession just isn't that much fun anymore. One of my mantras in my low times is "How am I ever going to keep doing this for 10 more years." Well this workshop was different. This workshop has the potential to be a game changer for, not only me, but for any of our staff who is willing to get involved in an honest and authentic discussion about this thing called teaching. I am revived and rejuvenated. I am also now ready for summer. I am ready for raising chicks and holding my granddaughter as well as my grandfather and being amazed by the marvels of Alaska. I am ready to garden and harvest and preserve. And, yes, I am also ready to delve into a new reading and writing text book so that when August 11 rolls around, I'll be ready and raring to go again.

A Letter to My Former Self

I wish I could now communicate with my former self and somehow relieve the me of long ago from all those needless concerns that filled my head and heart about raising a daughter. When I found out I was pregnant, I told everyone that it didn't matter if the baby was a girl or boy but in reality, it did. I wanted desperately to raise a daughter and to get it right. My identity was such a jumble growing up and I dreamed of bringing a woman into the world that knew who she was from the beginning and could stand up for herself. I am almost embarrassed to say how much of me I poured into her. I'm not sure how I would have survived if she had ever turned away from me. I tried hard to prepare her as well as protect her from the world. We were that family that talked about everything at the dinner table. Alcohol and drugs were scary but my greatest concern was that of teen pregnancy. It sounds crazy now and it sounded crazy then too. But I just had so much wrapped up in her and could only dream about everything that she could be. I would not be able to handle giving up the dream and watching her raise a baby in place of college and anything else that might follow. But at the same time, I could not imagine the thought of raising a grandchild. And now here I am today, desperately in love with everything about being a grandmother. It just all feels kind of funny when I think back on the past.

Dear Tere, the mother,
You have nothing to fear. That teenage girl you are fretting about is becoming exactly who she is supposed to be. You are worried that she will lose her heart to some cute boy and that the potential for who and what she can be will float away. That will not happen. You worry about the worse case scenario of her getting pregnant and the challenge of raising your grandchild. Well, I can tell you that is not the worse case scenario. There is actually nothing better than being a grandmother. It is love incarnate. It is stepping outside yourself and watching the next generation move forward. It is beauty and joy and all things wonderful. Holding your grandchild is absolutely the best thing there is in the world. So stop worrying and just enjoy that beautiful daughter who will one day make you a grandmother.
Love,
Tere, the grandmother

Yes, I did worry about my daughter and how a mistimed pregnancy would result in the broken dreams of her future. There is just no way to have a normal social life while raising a baby. But my greatest fears had a selfish side to them. I had seen too many grandmothers raising their grandchildren in the public school system. It scared me to death. How could I possibly give up my career to raise my grandchild? And now that she is here, I get it. And, yes, I would have given up everything to give Callie all that she needed for a good start in life. She is the future. She is the dream for all that is yet to be.

The End

The school year has come to an end. I don't think I have ever been as calm on the last day of school as I was on this one. It just felt good and right and finished. I know that I have given my best to these kids. This year was a definite improvement over last year. The second time around is always better than the first of anything. And that is surely true of teaching middle school. I feel good about my teaching of writing. I improved on my units from last year and have some goals for next year. My love of teaching reading has been rekindled and I know exactly what I want to do to make next year better. That is the beauty of teaching. It is a one year commitment and at the end we can reflect and figure out how to improve it next time. This is new for me. I have jumped schools and grade levels for my entire career. It feels good to be grounded and to know that this is what everything else was preparing me to do. And now it is time to breathe in relaxation so that when August 11th rolls around, my mind and spirit will both be ready to do it all over again.

The Cycle of Life

You can safely say that I have a very warped view of life and death. On one hand I gave birth to 2 children albeit in a very unusual fashion. Not only were both deliveries natural and drug free but they were on the extreme end of the labor spectrum - 2.5 and 1.5 hours from start to finish. So I can't really talk to anyone about labor or delivery or any of that. And on the other hand, my first experience with death was that of my 9 year old brother. That's not normal either. However, since that time I have experienced all sorts of deaths of relatives, neighbors and friends. With this said, I am also blessed to still be in the presence of my 102 year old grandfather. So the cycle of life is a little convoluted for me.

I recognize the miracle of birth and revel in it especially with my newly achieved grandmother status. Being a generation removed gives you the perspective of utter and complete awe. But the death end is still baffling to me.

About the time that my daughter was preparing for the birth of her baby, we got word of a cancer diagnosis in the Sutter community. I have known a lot of people with cancer and have witnessed them fight the fight of their life. Some of them fought for years and years and others were only months. So I don't have that dreaded C response to cancer. And I truly believe that there are people in the world who can fend it off with prayer and support and the utter will to live. Carol is one of those people. The diagnosis was just words to me. I knew if anybody in the world could beat this, it would be her. I never doubted for a second that she would be here next year and the year after that and the year after that.

She worked her last day of the year a week ago to begin her therapy. Still I didn't worry. I knew she would be back next year to fulfill her plan of retiring in 2011 and go out the way she wanted.

Her chemo started last Thursday and the news came on Tuesday that the prognosis had deteriorated and that her time was short. There was no option but to retire this year. So today I attended the district Recognition Tea and watched the entire district applaud her and stand in solidarity with her family to show our appreciation for the thousands of families of which she has become a part. Carol is that teacher you want to become. She is the teacher that never tires of tweaking her lessons and units to be even better than they were before. She loves everything about teaching, the kids, the parents, the administrators, everything. As she exits Sutter, my heart is heavy. I'm not ready for the good-bye stage. I know that I don't get to choose and that death doesn't wait for the living to prepare. So today, I am just sad, so terribly sad for the loss to our students, our community and our circle of friends. A baby to hold right now would sure make me feel a whole lot better. The reminder of the circle of life.

That Says It All

I received a little Grandma gift in the mail today. It says, "Grandchildren fill a space in your heart you never knew was empty. I read it and shouted, "That's it!" That is exactly what I've been trying to figure out in this journey into grandparenthood. It is like being all filled up on an amazing meal or feast. And then when you think back you didn't notice you were hungry. All you feel is contentment, satisfaction and love, lots and lots of love.

Grandma Alone Time

This term has morphed from babysitting to Baby Loving to Grandma Alone Time. Last night was the beginning of something wonderful, creating that one of a kind relationship with Callie Girl. I love seeing this child, no matter who is around but being alone with her just takes it to the next level. We walked and talked and sang and played and I loved every second of it. She is constantly changing with new faces and sounds and movements. It is just fun hanging out with this beautiful girl. But to be alone with her was the best. It is the start of all the visions I have of what our together time will be - baking (eating), gardening (playing in the dirt), going for walks, sharing our stories and laughing together. To see her looking up at me and knowing that the love in those big beautiful eyes was meant for no one else but me melted my heart.

I constantly have the feeling of how blessed I am to be in this place and time. I love this Grandma stuff. Everything else just falls away and the only thing that matters is this beautiful child and all that awaits each of us on this journey that we call Callie.

Loving Spring at School

I know that some teachers dread this time of year because their students suddenly begin to appear much more like next year's students but I love it. Today I reveled in watching some of my more challenging kids skipping about the quad. And all I could think was how independent and self assured they appeared to be. This is what we work for all year in 6th grade. We take these budding pre-teens who have no idea about where they are or where they are going next and work to build their responsibility and independence so they can move forward into 7th grade. Teaching is so close to parenting you can almost reach out and touch it. We love and nurture and discipline our babies and then suddenly our time is over and we must release them knowing that we have given them our very best. Yes, we worry that they will stumble along the way but we also know that they must do the rest of the journey on their own. So in the next few weeks, I will prepare to send another group of kids off into their unknown futures while I step back and watch them take those first few steps away from me.

Mother's Day Once Removed

My greatest thrill of Mother's Day ever has been watching my own baby as mother to her baby. I swear I will never tire of seeing the two of them together. Mother's Day has had its ups and downs in my life. And now it feels like I can release my role in it completely. I love that my grown kids want and need to say thank you for all that I given to them. And I love being able to do the same for my own mom. But nothing can compare to a take out breakfast at Maria and Bill's, hanging out, passing Callie around from mom to dad to grandmas and grandpas to uncle and seeing that same look of love in everyone's eyes. I love this time of life. It just can't get any better than these simple pleasures.

Happiness Through Others

I live a very contented life. I suppose it is mostly because I don't do anything that doesn't make me happy. But lately I have discovered that I can feel the deepest happiness when people I care about are happy. This is new. I have always had the ability to be happy FOR others but never have I felt deep personal happiness when others are happy. This picture is the epitome of a mother's love for me. It still makes me cry when I look at it. I can feel what Maria feels. I've been there and I know that love. But last night it happened again. Ralph is finally going to Italy. I have been wishing for this since I was there 4 years ago. And he is finally doing it. This is an amazing event for so many reasons. But as we talked about it, I had that same feeling. I was just so happy that he was going to have this amazing journey to the homeland of his ancestors. It's not that he will feel what I did when I was there but that he will know what it is to be home and connected and at one with his history in space and time. As I thought about it, I was actually happier that he was going than I would have been if I were going there myself.

This feeling of happiness through others must be another one of those things that begins to take hold as you age. You somehow gain the ability to actually feel the feelings of those you care about. Their feelings become yours. It is a wonderful thing to finally be outside of yourself and experience this depth of love for others. I really do like the aging process and being on the backside of the circle of life. I love the perspective of having done all that I wanted and now being the source of support for others that follow me.

I Get the Grandma Thing

A week ago my world was rocked to its very core and I will never again be the same. I took the title Grandma Tere and held Callie Helena in my arms for the very first time. It is the most incredible experience I have had since my own children were born. But this is just raw emotion, pure unadulterated love. I finally understand what all the buzz is about.

For several years, friends and siblings have been telling me how great it is to be a grandparent. I would just smile and nod. I was that mom who accepted her children for who they were. If my kids didn't want to be parents, I was totally fine with that. One thing I did not want to be a part of was bringing children into the world when the parents weren't ready for the responsibility of a long term commitment. The minute, I saw Callie, that all flew out the window. Being a grandparent is absolutely wonderful. It is all of the love you felt as a parent but none of the worry. It is the joy of seeing the growth of your family, the final culmination of what your own parenting has wrought. I am so thankful that I didn't know any of this years ago or I would have been that nagging mother, asking when, when are you going to have a baby?

I am not the type of person who is very content just sitting. But I could sit and watch Callie all day. I marvel at her daily changes, the little faces she makes, how she flails her arms and legs and how she snuggles into your shoulder and takes any worries you had and melts them away. There is nothing like it. She is beautiful and perfect and my new great love.

The piece I am still puzzling over is that when I think about her or my daughter and son-in-law with her I still cry. But when I'm there it just all seems so right. It is all the way it is supposed to be. I will never ever tire of seeing the three of them together. It is the reminder that there is this deep abiding love in the world and that when two people really love each other they can accomplish anything.

It is the funniest thing that you can love something so tiny so deeply. I just met her a week ago but I know that if there was anything she wanted I would find a way to get it for her. I love seeing her personality come out in her movements and cannot wait until there is language to go with it. I am busy dreaming of all the things we will do together, the sound of her laughter and of all the ways I will define "Grandma" so that she will know the joy that she has brought to my world.

Mom Always Get to Decide

There is a volcano erupting in Iceland. Iceland, you might say; who cares about Iceland? Well it turns out that a lot of people do. It seems that jets don't do well flying through clouds of ash and rocks. So, people all over the world are literally stranded. They are either stuck where they are or are finding slower forms of transportation. I love that Mother Nature always wins. She is ultimately in charge and there's nothing that can be done about it. Humans believe that they can truly dominate the planet and then something like this happens that makes everyone aware that we are like little ants in the scheme of things. We may think that we are in charge until the wake up call comes and says, "Sit down and rest a bit. You don't need to go anywhere for a while. Take a few days and enjoy where you are in this moment." OK Mom, you win.

The Spiritual Side of Bread

Part of my journey into "real food" is also a journey into personal involvement with my food. As a result, I have made a commitment to bake my own bread. I toyed around with bread baking when the kids were little and again many years later with bread machines. Now that I am increasing whole grains in my diet, I am looking at how to make whole grain breads that taste good. Enter the new cookbook: Peter Reinhart's Whole Grain Breads. Peter is a baker who shares his personal journey into whole grain bread baking, the good, the bad and the ugly. His writing includes his anecdotes, the science of whole grains as well as the theory of the delayed fermentation process. His love of bread comes through loud and clear. This is my favorite quote from the book.

Bread is the ultimate transformational food. Its ingredients are not only radically changed from one thing into something completely different, but more significantly, and unlike any other food, bread actually goes through two transformations in its journery from the earth to the table. Let me explain.

To make bread, we harvest the caryopsis (the seed) from living grass, taking the life of that grass. Usually, but not exclusively, that grass is wheat. Then we grind the seed into flour, taking even its potential for future life. During the mixing stage, we combine this flour with salt and water and turn it into a claylike mixture. When infused with leaven, it gradually comes to life as it rises and becomes bread dough. (It may help to know that the dictionary definition of leaven is "to enliven, to vivify; to bring to life.") This is the first transformation.

After several succeeding stages of the bread maing process - fermentation, shaping, resting, and so on - the baking stage arrives and a second transformation occurs. Living dough enters a hot oven, as the internal temperature of the dough passes 139 degrees (the dough's thermal death point), all life ceases. In order to complete its mission of raising the dough and transforming it into bread, the leaven gives up its own life too.

These two transformations help to explain our fascination and love for bread. Whether literally or symbolically, the ingredients are radically transformed and so, at times, is the baker. The road from wheat to eat takes many twists and turns, verging at times on seemingly mysterious, alchemical changes. And the ultimate loaf experienced, finally at stage twelve (eating!) is a creature totally unlike the grass seeds ground into flour from which it originated.

It's All About Time

Spring Break. Ahhhh... What is that sigh about? It is an emptiness, a sudden silence. It is the temporary end to the stress of interesting kids, curious parents, schedules, lesson plans, and thoughts about plans for next year. It is being "home." It is time. Time to think. Time to do whatever comes into your mind. The rhythm of middle school has a very quick beat. 52 minute periods with 5 minutes in between. It is controlled by bells. There is no end to them. Day after day, week after week. Hurry and teach. Hurry and correct these papers and input the grades. Hurry and take care of these special ed forms, and student awards and attendance reports. There is no time to reflect and just sit back and enjoy your love of the kids and the job. It is always on to the next thing. The next unit, the next quarter, state testing, scheduling for next year. There is no end until it ends. But spring break is that tiny little moment to breathe again. The rhythm of "home" is slow and methodical. It is what do I need to do today, followed by what do I want to do today. It is time for lunch with friends and spur of the moment cups of coffee. It is the awareness of time passing but knowing that the exact time it is doesn't matter. There are no bells and if it doesn't get done today then maybe it will tomorrow or may it just isn't that important. I am loving this time and all the possibility it holds.

Michael Pollan Has Changed My Life

A look into my "pantry" is a bit shocking these days. You won't find anything that wasn't in my great-grandmother's. No instant anything, only real food. A month ago I read Michael Pollan's book, The Omnivore's Dilemma and I haven't been the same since. I finally understand all that went on with our food supply while I was a child and how it continues with Monsanto's ownership/patent of corn and soy seeds. I get why we are able to make almost anything from corn and soy beans. I understand what agribusiness has done to the word organic and that free range means only that there is a door that leads to the outside. I also understand that humans have attempted to change cows' digestive system from ruminants into grain eaters. It doesn't work. It's why they get sick and must be slaughtered at such young ages.

I am finally aware. There are some things that come into my life at the exact moment I am ready to act upon them. It turns out that Michael Pollan is one of those things. I have read 2 of his books, seen him on a couple talk shows, watched Food Inc and The No Impact Man all in the span of a couple months. It has all gelled together into a whole new way of looking at my food. There is a part of me that is ashamed that it has taken so long for me to become more knowledgeable about what goes in my body but as always, I embrace the change.

What does this mean for me? My kitchen has only real food and I am working hard on an attempt to eat locally (although I fudge on my coffee beans and will buy them from Mexico and Guatemala). This means most of my food shopping is done at the Farmer's Market. I am back to drinking real milk. I am off high fructose corn syrup and any sort of hydrogenated fat. I would say that I have become a label reader but most real food doesn't come with labels. My label reading is more about what is left in the pantry. I have torn out my lawn and planted food in its place. And I have never been more content with living authentically.

I am part of the Slow Food movement. The result is that I am completely present to the moment. The food I eat is a choice and I choose not to eat fast food of any sort. I am voting with my fork. I am much closer to my food sources than I have ever been before and I have a personal connection to everything I eat. I am committed to my weekly trip to the Farmer's Market.

I love watching how things are changing around me, how more people are buying locally and seasonally, the CSAs that have become a new way of shopping, more talk about grass fed animals, and more awareness of terms like organic, free range and vegetarian. Yes, Michael Pollan has changed my life and I couldn't be happier.

Crossroads on the Journey

I had another of those moments where I knew I had gone through the bad times so that I could lead someone else through them. One of my before-school students fail to show up on Thursday. So I of course let her have it about commitment, responsibility, blah, blah, blah to which she responded with 2 single tears rolling down each cheek and the garbled response "I think my parents are getting a divorce." All I could do was hold her close and open the door for her to come running in. So on Friday, I did no teaching of reading but I did give her absolutely everything she needed to make it through the day. The hard times were indeed hard but I have had several occasions now where I have realilzed why it had to be the way it was. I am stronger and wiser and have the honor of holding the hand of others while I sometimes pull them along and other times stand behind so they can keep trudging forward. This student is definitely on my mind and I pray that she has what she needs to get through the week until we see each other again. Stay strong, baby and know that grown-up fighting is never ever about the children left in its wake.

Getting to Know 6th Grade

I was thinking late this afternoon after school, after the faculty meeting, after the department meeting called to finish scoring the writing assessments that I am just beginning to get to know these creatures called middle schoolers. Then it occurred to me that after only 2 years in middle school I have taught 120 different kids. That would have taken me 6 years in primary! So I guess it makes sense that I am starting to get a handle on this job. Hooray for me. Give me a couple more years and I'll be something to behold.

Letting Them Go

One of my greatest struggles in my move to middle school has been allowing kids to fail. That was simply never an issue in elementary school. You sat beside those challenging kids and supported, cajoled and put your hand around theirs to guide that pencil until the deed was done. There was no failing as long as the scaffold was there to catch them before they fell. I prided myself on the ability of every child to achieve success. It was exhausting work but at the end of the year, I sent them on knowing that I had given it everything I had. Last year was my first experience with the notion that if a kid wants to fail, you can't stop them. There is really nothing you can do as a teacher to make them care if the desire isn't there. It was a difficult thing for me to understand and I had many teary nights over one and only one student. I knew that he was put in my life for many valuable lessons so I tried to absorb them as best I could. Well, it's that time of year again where it becomes clear that there are just some kids who I am not going to be able to "save." I have to walk away and let them go to see if they will follow. They seem determined to stumble and fall. I could pick them up again and again but it quickly becomes a game of watching me swoop from behind and stand them up only to look at me, laugh and fall over again. I have set the bar but its up to them to actually lift their feet off the ground and clear it. Last week I had one of those moments where I knew I had hit the wall. It was time to wave the white flag and just see what they could do. Last year I did that over and over again because I just couldn't get it. But the lesson seems to have sunk in a little deeper. This time around I can leave it up to the kids and wait for them to realize that it's now their turn. This is their moment to either make it or break it. Mom can't do it, Dad can't do it and neither can I. It's one of the things I love about middle school. It is the crossroads to growing up; the moment when they first begin to realize who they are and what they are made of. I can't get in the way of that realization, of their becoming who they happen to be at the moment. I can only offer my assistance; it is up to them to accept it and take the first step down that road.

I Have Great Faith in a Seed

It is spring both in time and life. I have been hard at work clearing a piece of dirt in my yard for food. This has been a thought of mine for the entire 10 years I have lived in this house. As with so many things in my life, I think thoughts and dream dreams and one day I wake up and know the time is right for it to come into being. So my back yard is now home to a few plants that will feed me both physically and spiritually. There's just something about being a part of growing things. It was a part of my childhood by simply growing up in Iowa but it is also part of the legacy my family has passed on to me. There is nothing better than the taste of food picked fresh from the garden.

My plan was to plant early so on the first day of spring, there I was out digging in the dirt. I love the feel of dirt under my fingernails. It is the ultimate of being connected to the earth. During my first few ventures in the spring I have to feel the dirt on my fingertips. It is the joy of experiencing the garden with all my senses. As time goes on, the gloves must be used as my fingernails begin shedding and the skin on my fingers feels like it has been drug over bricks.

Because of my early start this year, there were very few plants available but as I was leaving the nursery I looked over and saw the rack of seeds. Of course! Why wait for seedlings? I was reminded of gardening when the kids were little. My own gardening days started with seeds. Hoeing the rows and dropping in the seeds by hand was the beginning of a wonderful adventure. It is the drama of which ones will sprout first, the thinning and the blooms that become tomatoes and beans and berries. How did I lose my way and depend on someone else to sprout my seeds; something a child can do?

Being in the gardening mood, I read Seedfolks by Paul Fleishman, a tiny little middle school book about a "vacant" lot that becomes a community garden and how the lives of the gardeners are changed through the planting of seeds. In the author's notes, he tells his own gardening history. It occurred to me; do the kids today have a gardening history? Are there still moms out there planting seeds with their kids and eating fresh fruits and vegetables right out of the garden? Is anyone still creating those memories for them of the importance of growing things out of the dirt?

So this weekend, I will find time to plant some seeds. In the words of Henry David Thoreau, "I have great faith in a seed. Convince me that you have a seed there and I am prepared to expect wonders."

You Don't Have to Undersand Crazy

Our vice principal learned this rule of life in middle school years ago and is doing her best to instill it in those around her. The sign above her door says "Chaos Manager." I'm beginning to wonder if we don't all need one of those signs. I don't want to say that this was a rough week but it was certainly a rough ending that I am still trying to process. I don't want to understand crazy but I do want to find a place to put it in my brain so I can move forward. I have clearly seen things in middle school this year because of my reading intervention class that it might have taken me another 5 years to experience in my bubble world of regular education. One of those things is attempting to educate our most challenging student from 6th grade. I am now calling this, witnessing the evolution of a delinquent. Last year teachers said all sorts of "crazy" things about him to us - don't waste your energy, just send him to the office, he'll drop out, he'll go to Gateway in high school. None of that made any sense to me. This was a kid who loved derailing any lesson he could but mostly didn't want to try and fail and loved to take anyone else out with him that he could. His power was in his charisma. Well we have gone from a kid who didn't do his work to a kid that doesn't come to school. Instead of taking kids out of the lesson, he takes kids with him out of school. It feels like a train that is careening out of control off the tracks and down a mountaintop. It simply can't be stopped. I am slowly finding a place to understand this. As teachers, we must sometimes just admit that we are powerless. But the clincher for me this week has been a parent that after a serious of letters to teachers and phone calls from the principal has taken her son out of school to home school him. This is definitely a first for me and my partner teacher. She and I have both been accused of targeting her son and publicly humiliating him. The mother refused to meet with the teachers, the vice principal and finally the principal. She believes that her child is the perfect son and is not capable of doing any of the things he has been accused of and freely admitted to the teachers and principal that he did do. I've heard parents threaten to rip their kids our of school in the middle of the year because of teachers but I've never actually seen it done. It leaves a very bitter taste in your mouth that I can't seem to shake. It's not a sense of failing a student because there is nothing that could have been done by any of us to stop this, it is more my worry of what will become of this boy. Who will he grow up thinking he is and how will he find his place in the world? His mother believes he is perfect, yes really perfect! She had no understanding of why all these people were saying such "horrible" things about her son. Now this boy is a performer; he loves an audience. I try to imagine him writing and sharing his amazing stories or learning the Greek myths with no one but his family to appreciate his accomplishments. Maybe that's what's keeping me stuck. He is smart, bright and has so much to bring to the world. And this mom has chosen to keep those gift hidden away. As mothers and as teachers we don't have that right. Our children and students are given to us to ready for the world so that we will all live in a better place. It's why we do what we do. The glory of this job is to model and guide and support and then stand back and be amazed while these children take flight in the world. So to this student I say, I wish you well, my son, and pray that some day you will find your voice and we will all be better because you shared your gifts with the world. Be well and grow up strong.