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."
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
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.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Weekends Are Holding Me Together
It is a challenging year. Let's start with that. But lately my primary focus in life is getting to Friday. I still love my job and do not wake up feeling bad about going to work but by the end of the day I am definitely ready to go home. Each day has become another halting step toward the weekend. And when I wake up on Saturday morning I breathe it in as deeply as I can. I wallow in it. I enjoy every second of that 48 hours. By the time Monday morning rolls around again I have mentally prepared myself for the next week moving ever closer to Spring Break.
I am a reflector so I insist on knowing the why. I know that October and March are definitely my hardest months in teaching. In October I doubt that I will even get through the first quarter without banging my head against the wall. And March is just too long. It's the reason that I once had a Catholic school principal who insisted on leaving one of our days off until either St. Partrick's or St. Joseph's Day. But this is much more than the normal unending March. First there is the reading intervention class. Not much is getting better in that room. I do have control of the classroom but there is still all the game playing, messing with computers and general avoidance of anything that would make them better readers. It is just simply exhausting.
One of my groups of students is filled with some of most interesting students I've ever seen before. As you look around the room, you just know that more than half of them would benefit from some sort of counseling. And so would their parents. I know that part of my job is counseling and I don't mind doing a bit of it. But around about now, I would like to see some results. And, frankly, some of these kids don't act a bit differently today than they did way back when in August. It is still me following them around with lists of missing assignments and reminding them of what an a 50% F does to a C average. It's me making a big deal about homework. It's me going on and on about attention, focus, and following through. I'm just tired.
The other class is certainly entertaining but it has a few challenges too. Reminders about talking without permission are non-stop. More talk about attention, focus and follow through. A few groups are now learning how to listen to each other and accept a differing point of view without shouting over each other. So maybe there is progress being made.
This also is the importance of a weekend; to be able to look back and say, "Hey! Maybe something did happen this week. Maybe I did make a difference in one or two of them. And maybe I can do it again next week." And then one day I will wake up and it will be another Saturday. I'll be drinking my coffee and breathing in the weekend and suddenly it will occur to me that it is April 10th. I will shout for joy, "OH MY GOD, I'M ON SPRING BREAK!"
I am a reflector so I insist on knowing the why. I know that October and March are definitely my hardest months in teaching. In October I doubt that I will even get through the first quarter without banging my head against the wall. And March is just too long. It's the reason that I once had a Catholic school principal who insisted on leaving one of our days off until either St. Partrick's or St. Joseph's Day. But this is much more than the normal unending March. First there is the reading intervention class. Not much is getting better in that room. I do have control of the classroom but there is still all the game playing, messing with computers and general avoidance of anything that would make them better readers. It is just simply exhausting.
One of my groups of students is filled with some of most interesting students I've ever seen before. As you look around the room, you just know that more than half of them would benefit from some sort of counseling. And so would their parents. I know that part of my job is counseling and I don't mind doing a bit of it. But around about now, I would like to see some results. And, frankly, some of these kids don't act a bit differently today than they did way back when in August. It is still me following them around with lists of missing assignments and reminding them of what an a 50% F does to a C average. It's me making a big deal about homework. It's me going on and on about attention, focus, and following through. I'm just tired.
The other class is certainly entertaining but it has a few challenges too. Reminders about talking without permission are non-stop. More talk about attention, focus and follow through. A few groups are now learning how to listen to each other and accept a differing point of view without shouting over each other. So maybe there is progress being made.
This also is the importance of a weekend; to be able to look back and say, "Hey! Maybe something did happen this week. Maybe I did make a difference in one or two of them. And maybe I can do it again next week." And then one day I will wake up and it will be another Saturday. I'll be drinking my coffee and breathing in the weekend and suddenly it will occur to me that it is April 10th. I will shout for joy, "OH MY GOD, I'M ON SPRING BREAK!"
Saturday, March 06, 2010
Tips for Success
Given the incredible events that have happened in the Shark Team classrooms the past couple weeks, it is clear that we need to pump up our curriculum to include some basic tips to be successful in the world. I think that next year you may hear Ms. Allen's Tips for Success in the first week of school.
You do not get to shout out in class - even if you are the funniest kid in the world
If you are given an assignment AND extra time at home to complete it, don't ask the teacher the next day "What if you're not done?"
No audible moaning when a teacher introduces the topic of the day or the upcoming unit of study
Don't ever roll your eyes at the teacher (or any other adult)
Don't make mean or ugly faces at a teacher
And do not, I repeat, DO NOT talk back to the teacher when you have already irritated her with audible moans, rolled eyes and ugly faces!
Class dismissed!
You do not get to shout out in class - even if you are the funniest kid in the world
If you are given an assignment AND extra time at home to complete it, don't ask the teacher the next day "What if you're not done?"
No audible moaning when a teacher introduces the topic of the day or the upcoming unit of study
Don't ever roll your eyes at the teacher (or any other adult)
Don't make mean or ugly faces at a teacher
And do not, I repeat, DO NOT talk back to the teacher when you have already irritated her with audible moans, rolled eyes and ugly faces!
Class dismissed!
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
The Highs and Lows of Life Lived Fully
Yesterday was one of those days that could be a metaphor for the ups and downs of an entire lifetime. We soar like a kite set free on the highs and plummet to the ground with a deafening crash as we suddenly realize we have lost our safety net.
March 2nd is always circled and starred on my calendar. This year it was the celebration of my grandfather's 102nd birthday. Birthdays are now and always have been a big deal in my family. It's YOUR day, one out of 365. For me there is no difference between the feelings that surround birthday celebrations today and those of my childhood. And Grandpa is 102! I have to say that the longer my grandfather lives, the fewer words I have to express my feelings about him. He is just the best thing ever.
This same day also brought another middle school first. One of our students was kicked out of her house by her mother. I'm still searching for a place to put this in my head and heart. 24 hours later, it is still floating adrift. She is lucky enough to temporarily be living with her grandparents but for the first time in a long time I had the inclination to take a student home with me. Jack could have healed a lot of her pain - not all of it because it's running pretty deep these days but a loving beagle can do more than one would think. I wanted her to be able to sleep deeply and wake up to breakfast and love and the knowledge that she mattered.
And then the crowning blow hit. A much loved teacher at Sutter was diagnosed with cancer. The original diagnosis was lung and pancreatic. Today brought kidney, liver and spleen. I am praying as hard as I know how and still feel like it is not enough. Every spare minute brings me back to thoughts of her, her family, the Sutter community and all the lives she has touched in her 44 years of teaching.
These events all bring me screeching back to the knowledge that I live in a very protective bubble. I always have. I was raised in Iowa in a time when life was just simpler. I loved being able to run free and know that home was always waiting for me at the end of the day. I believed that everything always eventually had a happy ending. I want to believe that again. 6th graders did not get kicked out of their homes. Nobody close to me got sick and died. So here I am all grown up and trying as hard as I can to patch up my bubble to feel safe again. But as quickly as I fix one tear another one splits open. I can't seem to keep the sadness of the world out this time.
But tomorrow is my sister's birthday. So it is time to celebrate again. Yes, our lives are filled with highs and lows, joys and sorrows. The highs are higher because of the lows. It is the yin and the yang, the balance of the universe that keeps us moving forward. We party hard with the good times and do the best we can to pick up the pieces of our heart in the bad times. And through it all we revel in the love that surrounds us. We support one another as best we can and know that in the end we have lived life fully.
March 2nd is always circled and starred on my calendar. This year it was the celebration of my grandfather's 102nd birthday. Birthdays are now and always have been a big deal in my family. It's YOUR day, one out of 365. For me there is no difference between the feelings that surround birthday celebrations today and those of my childhood. And Grandpa is 102! I have to say that the longer my grandfather lives, the fewer words I have to express my feelings about him. He is just the best thing ever.
This same day also brought another middle school first. One of our students was kicked out of her house by her mother. I'm still searching for a place to put this in my head and heart. 24 hours later, it is still floating adrift. She is lucky enough to temporarily be living with her grandparents but for the first time in a long time I had the inclination to take a student home with me. Jack could have healed a lot of her pain - not all of it because it's running pretty deep these days but a loving beagle can do more than one would think. I wanted her to be able to sleep deeply and wake up to breakfast and love and the knowledge that she mattered.
And then the crowning blow hit. A much loved teacher at Sutter was diagnosed with cancer. The original diagnosis was lung and pancreatic. Today brought kidney, liver and spleen. I am praying as hard as I know how and still feel like it is not enough. Every spare minute brings me back to thoughts of her, her family, the Sutter community and all the lives she has touched in her 44 years of teaching.
These events all bring me screeching back to the knowledge that I live in a very protective bubble. I always have. I was raised in Iowa in a time when life was just simpler. I loved being able to run free and know that home was always waiting for me at the end of the day. I believed that everything always eventually had a happy ending. I want to believe that again. 6th graders did not get kicked out of their homes. Nobody close to me got sick and died. So here I am all grown up and trying as hard as I can to patch up my bubble to feel safe again. But as quickly as I fix one tear another one splits open. I can't seem to keep the sadness of the world out this time.
But tomorrow is my sister's birthday. So it is time to celebrate again. Yes, our lives are filled with highs and lows, joys and sorrows. The highs are higher because of the lows. It is the yin and the yang, the balance of the universe that keeps us moving forward. We party hard with the good times and do the best we can to pick up the pieces of our heart in the bad times. And through it all we revel in the love that surrounds us. We support one another as best we can and know that in the end we have lived life fully.
Monday, March 01, 2010
Happy Birthday Grandpa 2010
Happy Birthday, Grandpa,
Here you are at 102 and still counting. Amazing! That is the only word that comes to mind. I have been amazed by you for my entire life. Yet still when I think of you today, that is the one word that comes to mind, amazing. It is amazing that you have accomplished the things you have, that you have loved each of us as deeply and unconditionally as you have and that you have lived life so simply and completely in the process. It is a model I continually strive to imitate.
Today, more than ever I find myself thinking of how to be more like Grandpa. In a few weeks, I too will bare the title of grandparent. And you, once again are my model. My earliest memories of you are those of pure love and happiness. They are smiles, and hugs, and laughter. The memories don’t include events or places; it was enough just to be with you. We shared little jokes that made me feel like I was special. You and I would just laugh and laugh at nothing in particular. Your arm around me was all I ever needed, even in the worst of times. My childhood memories are full of you. Then, as now, I just loved being in your presence. But the strange thing is that all six of your grandchildren felt the same way. You made every one of us feel loved and wanted and one-of-a-kind. You had a way of somehow knowing who we were at our very core long before we knew ourselves. The time you spent with each of us made a difference that lives on today. Not only do we carry forth your love inside of us, but it also becomes the seed that is planted in the future generations as we, your grandchildren, now attempt to follow your example as grandparents.
So as I consider my new role as grandma and following your example, here is my list of things to do:
Smile that “Grandpa” smile
Hug, hug again and then hug some more
Laugh at nothing at all; it will be the glue that holds us tight
Tinker together
Remember that good-byes should always last a long time
Listen and understand and never, never judge
Be a safe place to fall; no matter what happens, everything will be OK if Grandma is there
These are the grandparent lessons I have learned from you; smile, hug, laugh. You have always been that safe place for me where I knew I was loved in that one-of-a-kind way. I can’t wait to hold my own granddaughter in my arms the same way that you held me. If I learned my lessons well, someday there will be a little girl telling everyone she knows all about her amazing Grandma Tere.
Happy birthday, Grandpa!
Here you are at 102 and still counting. Amazing! That is the only word that comes to mind. I have been amazed by you for my entire life. Yet still when I think of you today, that is the one word that comes to mind, amazing. It is amazing that you have accomplished the things you have, that you have loved each of us as deeply and unconditionally as you have and that you have lived life so simply and completely in the process. It is a model I continually strive to imitate.
Today, more than ever I find myself thinking of how to be more like Grandpa. In a few weeks, I too will bare the title of grandparent. And you, once again are my model. My earliest memories of you are those of pure love and happiness. They are smiles, and hugs, and laughter. The memories don’t include events or places; it was enough just to be with you. We shared little jokes that made me feel like I was special. You and I would just laugh and laugh at nothing in particular. Your arm around me was all I ever needed, even in the worst of times. My childhood memories are full of you. Then, as now, I just loved being in your presence. But the strange thing is that all six of your grandchildren felt the same way. You made every one of us feel loved and wanted and one-of-a-kind. You had a way of somehow knowing who we were at our very core long before we knew ourselves. The time you spent with each of us made a difference that lives on today. Not only do we carry forth your love inside of us, but it also becomes the seed that is planted in the future generations as we, your grandchildren, now attempt to follow your example as grandparents.
So as I consider my new role as grandma and following your example, here is my list of things to do:
Smile that “Grandpa” smile
Hug, hug again and then hug some more
Laugh at nothing at all; it will be the glue that holds us tight
Tinker together
Remember that good-byes should always last a long time
Listen and understand and never, never judge
Be a safe place to fall; no matter what happens, everything will be OK if Grandma is there
These are the grandparent lessons I have learned from you; smile, hug, laugh. You have always been that safe place for me where I knew I was loved in that one-of-a-kind way. I can’t wait to hold my own granddaughter in my arms the same way that you held me. If I learned my lessons well, someday there will be a little girl telling everyone she knows all about her amazing Grandma Tere.
Happy birthday, Grandpa!
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