For some reason this week is putting me over the edge. I feel like it's the middle of September again and I have only a glimmer of an idea of what I am doing. I have a sketchy outline of my lesson plans and am planning the details day by day. It is all I can do to keep up with the paperwork. I have had meetings everyday this week and they have all seemed like the first time I've ever done it. I guess the most memorable one was what our counselor calls a "Come to Jesus Meeting" for one of our students. It had its highs and lows but the crux of the issue has become that this kid is in everyone's belief, ADHD. It has been another awakening for me of that shift from elementary to middle school. ADHD in elementary is a piece of cake to ID. They fall out of their chairs, run around the room, talk out of turn, and seem to do anything they can to avoid what's going on in the classroom. After 18 years I could pick them out of a crowd with my eyes shut. Year 19 has opened another door. An ADHD kid in middle school is in and out of a classroom activity, a class clown, charismatic, and totally inappropriate. They wear the wrong things to school just to be a distraction and"forget" their stuff when they come to class. Assignments are never completed but yet they know the stuff. They are smart and totally capable. Yes, that's the piece I struggle with. It is so hard for me to let go of kids that CAN do the work. I bend over backwards to help every kid in my class succeed. Sometimes that means being a mom. Sometimes that means being "mean." But when they have the ability to do the work and something else gets in the way, I am really challenged to make it all come together. For this one, (and I don't say this often) drugs are the answer. For now, I'll just do what I can.
Another new experience for me this week was the 5th grade parent orientation night. It is slightly stressful to feel even remotely responsible for the registration of students for a middle school within a somewhat competitive district. But now the first one is in the books. I now know what it is and the role I might play in it in the future. That is the story of my year. I now know what it is and the role I might play in it in the future. I constantly have the feeling that I have been called to be here. I mean that both in a spiritual and professional sense. It is so refreshing compared to my feelings in the past of wondering how I ended up wherever I was. I finally know that this is what I am supposed to be doing.
And now here is my all time favorite experience of the week. Picture this in your mind: Faculty meeting, a huge agenda, lots of verbal interchanges between the outspoken ones about everything from emergency drills to WASC stuff. And then, lo and behold, someone has fallen asleep. That's right, asleep. Not only is he asleep but everyone knows he is asleep and draws the principal's attention to the fact that he is sleeping. Never in my wildest dreams have I ever imagined a scene like that. Oh, Yes! I do love Middle School.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
My Saturday School Journal
Here I am in Saturday School. My only reference to this experience is "The Breakfast Club" and this is definitely not that. There are 10 kids in my room breathing my air and adding all kinds of negative energy to my life. 9 boys. 1 girl. No one even looks pleasant let alone someone I would like to have in my classroom.
My first greeting was by one who asked if he should bring his stuff with him. Good beginning, don't you think? Yes you should definitely bring your stuff with you. 3 hours can be a very long time with nothing to do.
So here is what our students do to entertain themselves in Saturday School:
Attenpt to toss wadded paper across the table or further if they think they can get away with it
Push the lead of a mechanical pencil through a glove into their hand. Yes, I said glove
Incessant turning around in their chair just to see if the teacher is watching
Slumping down in chairs to somehow disappear
Watching the clock that can't be found because it is covered by a penguin poster that says "Chill Out."
Out of the 10 students
2 are reading
1 is working
1 is holding a book that he might possibly read at some point
4 have backpacks on their desks evidently serving as pillows
1 has her binder on the desk but it remains unopened - this might be her first time. She has that deer in the headlights look.
1 is just sitting with nothing at all on his desk.
And then there were 9...
When asked to change seats he refused and when threatened with calling his parents, responded "I don't care."' Those are fighting words. Bye Bye.
10:00 finally arrives. I'm so excited that the first hour has expired that I announce it to my charges. I hear a voice mutter "I should have brought a pillow. Me too!
10:10 A little diversion when the phone rang and T Mobile was offering some "fabulous solutions."
10:25 A student stands up and asks if he can go to the bathroom. I say no. He asks why and I don't respond. He shouts out, my grandma says it's against the law for a teacher not to let you go to the bathroom. What could I possibly say to that. Nothing. He sits down again amidst a few chuckles around him.
There is a certain rhythm in Saturday School. A human being with nothing to do can only sit silently for so long. Every 7-8 minutes there is a sigh or groan or a pen that flies off a desk to be picked up. A piece of paper is taken out of a binded and folded into an airplane and tossed around a desk sometimes falling on the floor and needing to be picked up. Then suddenly the plane is wadded up. Fingers clicking on the desk. Flopping fingers in the air. Anything to make noise and distract yourself from the silence. Paper footballs are made but unfortunately can not be played with for very long in silence.
The last half hour is definitely the worst. There is a squirming in chairs that simply can't be controlled. The urge to talk is undeniable. Yes, Saturday School is true punishment for everyone involved.
My first greeting was by one who asked if he should bring his stuff with him. Good beginning, don't you think? Yes you should definitely bring your stuff with you. 3 hours can be a very long time with nothing to do.
So here is what our students do to entertain themselves in Saturday School:
Attenpt to toss wadded paper across the table or further if they think they can get away with it
Push the lead of a mechanical pencil through a glove into their hand. Yes, I said glove
Incessant turning around in their chair just to see if the teacher is watching
Slumping down in chairs to somehow disappear
Watching the clock that can't be found because it is covered by a penguin poster that says "Chill Out."
Out of the 10 students
2 are reading
1 is working
1 is holding a book that he might possibly read at some point
4 have backpacks on their desks evidently serving as pillows
1 has her binder on the desk but it remains unopened - this might be her first time. She has that deer in the headlights look.
1 is just sitting with nothing at all on his desk.
And then there were 9...
When asked to change seats he refused and when threatened with calling his parents, responded "I don't care."' Those are fighting words. Bye Bye.
10:00 finally arrives. I'm so excited that the first hour has expired that I announce it to my charges. I hear a voice mutter "I should have brought a pillow. Me too!
10:10 A little diversion when the phone rang and T Mobile was offering some "fabulous solutions."
10:25 A student stands up and asks if he can go to the bathroom. I say no. He asks why and I don't respond. He shouts out, my grandma says it's against the law for a teacher not to let you go to the bathroom. What could I possibly say to that. Nothing. He sits down again amidst a few chuckles around him.
There is a certain rhythm in Saturday School. A human being with nothing to do can only sit silently for so long. Every 7-8 minutes there is a sigh or groan or a pen that flies off a desk to be picked up. A piece of paper is taken out of a binded and folded into an airplane and tossed around a desk sometimes falling on the floor and needing to be picked up. Then suddenly the plane is wadded up. Fingers clicking on the desk. Flopping fingers in the air. Anything to make noise and distract yourself from the silence. Paper footballs are made but unfortunately can not be played with for very long in silence.
The last half hour is definitely the worst. There is a squirming in chairs that simply can't be controlled. The urge to talk is undeniable. Yes, Saturday School is true punishment for everyone involved.
Friday, January 23, 2009
The Journey of Life
A month ago I promised myself that I would go see "Slumdog Millionaire." I finally fulfilled that promise today and I'm glad that I did. It is a good movie and left me with some interesting reflections.
I find it difficult to truly absorb chronic and systemic poverty. Those scenes were hard for me to take it. I realized that I react the same way to that as I do to violence. I see it but I don't allow myself to take in the whole picture. It is just a still shot with no emotion attached. I can't go there. I know it's important to the understanding of the story so I talk myself through it so I can hold onto the importance of it but not feel the depth of it. I was especially interested in the setting of this movie because we have just started our unit on Ancient India (which I knew very little about until reently). The childhood scenes were hard to watch but I was intrigued by the transition to the more recent scenes of the high rise businesses and condos. Where did the poor go?
But for me, this movie was all about my belief that the things we experience are all intended to prepare us for what is yet to be. This boy endured horrible things that no child should ever go through. But each one of them was important for him to be able to answer the questions on the millionaire game show that would come later in his life. We all question the sad things that appear on our life journey that we absolutely can not comprehend at the time they are happening. But they mean something and we will need the knowledge that they bring later in life. It is a reminder for me that the universe is in charge and whatever is on my journey is there for a reason. There is no need in questioning it. I only need to hold onto the lessons that will serve as my guide in what is yet to come.
This movie is also a fabulous look at a boy who is determined to do the right thing at any cost. And then there is the love story. We should all have someone in our lives who cares so deeply about us as Jamal did. What a guy!
I find it difficult to truly absorb chronic and systemic poverty. Those scenes were hard for me to take it. I realized that I react the same way to that as I do to violence. I see it but I don't allow myself to take in the whole picture. It is just a still shot with no emotion attached. I can't go there. I know it's important to the understanding of the story so I talk myself through it so I can hold onto the importance of it but not feel the depth of it. I was especially interested in the setting of this movie because we have just started our unit on Ancient India (which I knew very little about until reently). The childhood scenes were hard to watch but I was intrigued by the transition to the more recent scenes of the high rise businesses and condos. Where did the poor go?
But for me, this movie was all about my belief that the things we experience are all intended to prepare us for what is yet to be. This boy endured horrible things that no child should ever go through. But each one of them was important for him to be able to answer the questions on the millionaire game show that would come later in his life. We all question the sad things that appear on our life journey that we absolutely can not comprehend at the time they are happening. But they mean something and we will need the knowledge that they bring later in life. It is a reminder for me that the universe is in charge and whatever is on my journey is there for a reason. There is no need in questioning it. I only need to hold onto the lessons that will serve as my guide in what is yet to come.
This movie is also a fabulous look at a boy who is determined to do the right thing at any cost. And then there is the love story. We should all have someone in our lives who cares so deeply about us as Jamal did. What a guy!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
A Middle School Smile
I gave a writing prompt today and got a response that truly amused me.
What does it mean to you that Barack Obama is president of the United States?
Having Barack Obama as our new president seems pretty good. He's our first black president and it's awesome that we don't have some old wrinkly man controlling America again. Barack Obama isn't like McCain which is good because McCain just wants to spend money. I'm glad Barack Obama is our new president because McCain is quite old and if he died, Sarah Palin would be president and I'm really not fond of her at all. She seems quite trampy.
What does it mean to you that Barack Obama is president of the United States?
Having Barack Obama as our new president seems pretty good. He's our first black president and it's awesome that we don't have some old wrinkly man controlling America again. Barack Obama isn't like McCain which is good because McCain just wants to spend money. I'm glad Barack Obama is our new president because McCain is quite old and if he died, Sarah Palin would be president and I'm really not fond of her at all. She seems quite trampy.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Praise Song For the Day
My great love of words made this one of my favorite parts of the inauguration.
Praise song for the day.
Each day we go about our business, walking past each other, catching each others' eyes or not, about to speak or speaking. All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair.
Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.
A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky; A teacher says, "Take out your pencils. Begin."
We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; words to consider, reconsider.
We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someone and then others who said, "I need to see what's on the other side; I know there's something better down the road."
We need to find a place where we are safe; We walk into that which we cannot yet see.
Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.
Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.
Some live by "Love thy neighbor as thy self."
Others by first do no harm, or take no more than you need.
What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.
In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light.
Praise song for the day.
Each day we go about our business, walking past each other, catching each others' eyes or not, about to speak or speaking. All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair.
Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.
A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky; A teacher says, "Take out your pencils. Begin."
We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; words to consider, reconsider.
We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someone and then others who said, "I need to see what's on the other side; I know there's something better down the road."
We need to find a place where we are safe; We walk into that which we cannot yet see.
Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.
Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.
Some live by "Love thy neighbor as thy self."
Others by first do no harm, or take no more than you need.
What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.
In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light.
Monday, January 19, 2009
The difference is hope
This sounds crazy but during the past few days I have caught myself tearing up while watching the news. That is extremely rare for someone like me. It has happened while watching the Ron Clark kids singing, Obama making speeches on the Whistle Stop Train, and simple shots of crowds of people on the Washington Mall. But this morning it happened while watching, for about the 10th time, footage of Sully's landing on the Hudson River. That was the big ah ha for me. These images are all about hope. It is the dream of what is possible.
The inauguration coverage has been unbelievable. I have never seen anything like this before and I am so thrilled to be alive at this point in time and witness what is about to happen. There is a new found patriotism and fervor for who we are as Americans. There is a belief that with Obama as our president, anything is possible. Suddenly the image in my brain has changed from Kennedy to Lincoln. This man will bring us back together to forget the anger that has separated us, the distrust of banks and auto makers that has divided us and believe once again that we, as a people can be better.
There was not this excitement for me with either of Bush's inaugurations. What is that about? It's more than the race thing, although I am deeply aware of how amazing it is that in less than 60 years time we have moved from Jim Crow to a Black man in the White House. No, it is more than that. It's those little girls' faces. But Bush had girls. We just didn't connect with them. Bush was all about protecting the rich. We never saw the embodiment of hope in his girls' faces. But these girls, Sasha and Malia are truly hope come to life. They are the children of a man who knows that hope is in the eyes of all children. Obama knows that is our future.
Obama has called America to service. It has resonated deeply within me. Bush called us to serve but it was to save the government money. Obama has called us to serve to make us all better people. We are being challenged to touch the lives of people who are in need. We are being challenged get to know who we are as Americans. That is the thing about these news clips that has touched me. The faces of the people are all races, colors and ages. They are not the people of a typical inauguration. It is truly America's inauguration. People are coming from everywhere just to be there as a witness to the event that is destined to be a turning point in history. This moment is where our past, present and future meet and for a instant become one.
As a lover of language, I am absolutely euphoric about a man who knows the importance of words. When Obama speaks, my heart absolutely melts. We have had 8 years of seeing our president on TV and dreading what may come out of his mouth. This new president knows the importance of inclusive language. He has a rhythm and cadence to his speech that is in stark contrast to anyone in public office in our recent past. But it's more than his vocabulary and articulation. There is a grace in his presence that I've never seen before. It is clear that respect for all people is crucial to his very core.
What a difference a day will make and the difference is hope. Tomorrow America will inaugurate her 44th president and this country will never again be the same.
The inauguration coverage has been unbelievable. I have never seen anything like this before and I am so thrilled to be alive at this point in time and witness what is about to happen. There is a new found patriotism and fervor for who we are as Americans. There is a belief that with Obama as our president, anything is possible. Suddenly the image in my brain has changed from Kennedy to Lincoln. This man will bring us back together to forget the anger that has separated us, the distrust of banks and auto makers that has divided us and believe once again that we, as a people can be better.
There was not this excitement for me with either of Bush's inaugurations. What is that about? It's more than the race thing, although I am deeply aware of how amazing it is that in less than 60 years time we have moved from Jim Crow to a Black man in the White House. No, it is more than that. It's those little girls' faces. But Bush had girls. We just didn't connect with them. Bush was all about protecting the rich. We never saw the embodiment of hope in his girls' faces. But these girls, Sasha and Malia are truly hope come to life. They are the children of a man who knows that hope is in the eyes of all children. Obama knows that is our future.
Obama has called America to service. It has resonated deeply within me. Bush called us to serve but it was to save the government money. Obama has called us to serve to make us all better people. We are being challenged to touch the lives of people who are in need. We are being challenged get to know who we are as Americans. That is the thing about these news clips that has touched me. The faces of the people are all races, colors and ages. They are not the people of a typical inauguration. It is truly America's inauguration. People are coming from everywhere just to be there as a witness to the event that is destined to be a turning point in history. This moment is where our past, present and future meet and for a instant become one.
As a lover of language, I am absolutely euphoric about a man who knows the importance of words. When Obama speaks, my heart absolutely melts. We have had 8 years of seeing our president on TV and dreading what may come out of his mouth. This new president knows the importance of inclusive language. He has a rhythm and cadence to his speech that is in stark contrast to anyone in public office in our recent past. But it's more than his vocabulary and articulation. There is a grace in his presence that I've never seen before. It is clear that respect for all people is crucial to his very core.
What a difference a day will make and the difference is hope. Tomorrow America will inaugurate her 44th president and this country will never again be the same.
Friday, January 16, 2009
I love middle school
I feel like "I love middle school" has once again become my mantra. Today was my first middle school field trip. I was a bit of a wreck for no particular reason besides everything that goes into the orchestration of any other field trip - the planning, scheduling, funding, permission slips, parent drivers/chaperones, transportation, and lunches. I woke up at 4:00 with all kinds of scenarios going through my mind. I tried to take it easy and hang out around the house but finally decided there was no reason to be home when I could be accomplishing something at school. I finished up all the little details and before you knew it we were off. The jump to middle school simply brings a more independent human being. There is a sense of trust that comes with these kids - the assumption that they won't wonder off during lunch or any sort of down time the way an elementary kid might. So before you knew it, I actually felt my body letting go of all the horrible things that could possibly happen. We had a lovely day. We demonstrated our knowledge of ancient Egypt, learned a few new tidbits and made it back to school safe and sound. At the end of the day the only drawback was that I had spent my entire day with the same group of 32 kids. That explained that funny little feeling of boredom that had reared its ugly hear around 2:00. I was reminded of how much I love the movement of middle school. No matter what is happening, you always know that in 50 minutes it will be over and a new group of kids will be waiting at the door. I just love that. So my first field trip is in the books as is my first semester. It is hard to believe the year is already half over. A year ago today I was observing at middle school and fell in love. I knew that what I saw that day was exactly what I wanted to do with the rest of my career. And here I am, doing it. Yes, I love middle school.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Happy Birthday
The day is almost over and through it all, I have been so grateful for P's presence in my life. Today is her birthday but it is I that have received all the gifts. She has been such a blessing in my life. Without her peeling back the layers of my protective wall I'm sure I would never have shared who I really am at Sutter. And that all led to who I am today. We both have the distinct feeling that we were destined to meet. All the twists and turns after the divorce somehow led me to Sutter and I am certain that it was because I had to meet her in order to get my life on track. I am thankful for everything that brought me to today and I am so happy to have the continued blessing and guidance of her friendship. Happy birthday, P. And thank you.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Time has no meaning
Today I had to flip my language arts classes and my social studies classes in order to fit into the computer lab schedule. It was amazing to watch the reaction of the kids. They just could not understand it. My 2nd period class thought they were having 2 periods of language arts followed by 2 periods of social studies. What they thought the other class was going to be doing all day is a mystery. 3rd period always begins with 20 minutes of SSR. So when that class came into language arts, which is normally social studies they could not figure out why we were having SSR. There seemed to be no understanding that 3rd period is actually 20 minutes longer for SSR every single day. It had nothing to do with social studies. It was all quite amazing. I am astounded at how little observation of the world happens in the mind of a 6th grader. I tend to gloss over a lot, thinking they know what's going on. I really do need to tell them about the details of life.
Friday, January 09, 2009
Middle is the right word
Middle school. That's exactly what it is. These kids are in the middle of moving from their parents' loving guidance and protection to making decisions about who they are and who they want to be. This was especially apparent to me today in a very glaring dichotomy. My day started with one of the funniest things I have ever seen in my life. It was 2nd period, the first teaching period for me. Something caught my eye and as I followed the flash I realized that one of my most dramatic students was wearing a bright pink bracelet. But as I looked closer, I realized that, yes indeed it was a florescent pink slinky. She had hooked the end over her thumb and there she was with a shocking pink bracelet that went from her wrist to her elbow. I could hardly stand it. The day rolled along but the pink slinky bracelet reminded me of how much I love these kids. After lunch we were missing one of our students and no one seemed to know where she was. She had clearly been at lunch hanging out with her regular group of friends. As time went by, she eventually showed up with a note from the AP; not necessarily a good sign. After school the little group came in, eager to chat. It tuned out that this girl was involved in fingering a kid who had been rumored to be selling drugs. Somehow she managed to trap him in his answers and she took the information right to the office. These two events really brought the term middle school home to me. These kids are definitely in the middle. They are so desperate to fit in but yet stand out from the crowd they will look around their room and light on something as ordinary as a slinky to make it happen. The other extreme are the kids looking for the boundary between being bad and bringing out the police.
Now this all caused me to think back to my own 6th grade experience. At the time there was no middle school in my neighborhood. My school went k-12 but I do remember 6th grade being a transition year preparing us for Jr/High school. My teacher was Mrs. Miller. I have no doubt that she has passed on as she was on the older side when I had her. She was one of those loving, nurturing teachers that you rarely find in the upper grades. She had one of those dye jobs that turned her hair blue but we loved her dearly. That was back in the day when girls didn't wear pants unless it was freezing and it was improper for them to whistle. I clearly remember her reciting the proverb: A whistling girl and a crowing hen Both will come to a bad end. I had never heard it before but it obviously stuck with me. Although that was the year my brother died the only other thing I remember about 6th grade is the constant question of when my period would start. So the thought of wearing a slinky to school or confronting some kid who may be selling drugs were the furthest thing from my mind. I didn't even know about drugs and our slinkies were all made of metal. Both of these actions take such an incredible amount of courage. It is a reminder to me of what my students are bringing into the classroom along with their binders and brains.
Now this all caused me to think back to my own 6th grade experience. At the time there was no middle school in my neighborhood. My school went k-12 but I do remember 6th grade being a transition year preparing us for Jr/High school. My teacher was Mrs. Miller. I have no doubt that she has passed on as she was on the older side when I had her. She was one of those loving, nurturing teachers that you rarely find in the upper grades. She had one of those dye jobs that turned her hair blue but we loved her dearly. That was back in the day when girls didn't wear pants unless it was freezing and it was improper for them to whistle. I clearly remember her reciting the proverb: A whistling girl and a crowing hen Both will come to a bad end. I had never heard it before but it obviously stuck with me. Although that was the year my brother died the only other thing I remember about 6th grade is the constant question of when my period would start. So the thought of wearing a slinky to school or confronting some kid who may be selling drugs were the furthest thing from my mind. I didn't even know about drugs and our slinkies were all made of metal. Both of these actions take such an incredible amount of courage. It is a reminder to me of what my students are bringing into the classroom along with their binders and brains.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
There's just something about cake.
Do you know how much a young child loves taking cupcakes to school for her birthday? Well, the teachers at my school enjoy cake just as much as little kids for our birthday celebration. It hasn't taken long, but I have quickly garnered a reputation around school as a baker. So when our team science teacher's birthday rolled around, I volunteered to bring the cake. You just can't beat the Perfect Chocolate Cake recipe on the back of the Hershey's cocoa can. If that thing was a drug, I would be an addict. So today we ate our very healthy lunches and after a few minutes of obligatory admiration, J cut the cake and passed it around the table. On the first bite you could hear the communal sigh (or maybe it was a moan) as that first taste of chocolate frosting hit our tongues. There is just nothing like it. It is sweet and soft and soothing. One swallow follows another. You take the last bite and once again you sigh and say, "That was good cake." Our science teacher thought I was just the nicest thing ever to have made him a cake. No. There is just something about cake. And the ability to eat it at school seems somehow just a little bit sinful.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Bell to Bell
Heard in my classroom today: "Oh I won't start that now. We only have three minutes left." My response: "That's right. You have three minutes. Let's get to it."
The whole time thing has become a huge issue since I moved to middle school. If I were in charge, there would be no clock in my classroom. It is unbelievable how much time is wasted by kids watching the clock. When it gets even somewhat close to a period change, they will start packing their things up. And then when it comes to evaluate a project they will almost always say they wish there had been more time to complete it. My mantra sometimes daily and at least weekly is, we work bell to bell. We come in ready to work and we work until the bell rings.
A minute holds so much potential. Since the advent of the microwave, we have come to realize what a minute can provide. It can heat my lunch or leftover dinner. A minute can be spent making the world a better place by spreading love and hope. It can be a prayer, a compliment, or just the time it takes to appreciate the sun and the rain.
The whole time thing has become a huge issue since I moved to middle school. If I were in charge, there would be no clock in my classroom. It is unbelievable how much time is wasted by kids watching the clock. When it gets even somewhat close to a period change, they will start packing their things up. And then when it comes to evaluate a project they will almost always say they wish there had been more time to complete it. My mantra sometimes daily and at least weekly is, we work bell to bell. We come in ready to work and we work until the bell rings.
A minute holds so much potential. Since the advent of the microwave, we have come to realize what a minute can provide. It can heat my lunch or leftover dinner. A minute can be spent making the world a better place by spreading love and hope. It can be a prayer, a compliment, or just the time it takes to appreciate the sun and the rain.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
The Single Life
Now that house guest season 2008 is officially over I can once again appreciate living alone. Living single in a couples' world is not an easy thing for me. Each year that goes by challenges me to push myself beyond my comfort zone in this department. Eating in restaurants, going to movies, vacationing and even going to parties are all things that are both more memorable and enjoyable when done with a partner. I am currently not interested in finding one of those so the alternative is hanging out with me, myself, and I. The challenge is compounded because I really don't have any single friends nearby that I would feel comfortable calling on a whim and saying "Let's go do something." So the thought often crosses my mind to go out and have some fun when before I know it I have talked myself out of it because it could be uncomfortable. There is always plenty to do around the little green house so it's not something that bothers me for more than a moment. But now that I have been left alone again I can truly appreciate the gifts it brings.
I appreciate the silence. It is much easier to add noise when you need it than it is to take it away.
There is no one who comments on when, what or how much I choose to eat or drink in a given day.
My schedule is self created and can be changed whenever it needs to be. I don't need to fit into anyone else's so there is no negotiation or give and take required.
I don't need to try and figure out any unspoken messages regarding what someone else might want to do or where they want to go or what they want to eat.
While I enjoy walking with friends and chatting about the latest happenings in the world, there is something prayerful about walking alone in the earth's silence with only my footsteps to set the tempo. There is no one in charge of where we walk or how fast we make the trip. It is the closest I can get to meditation in the real world. I breathe. I step. I listen. I pray.
I like myself and like spending time with me. My memories, thoughts and dreams for the future are all the entertainment I need most days.
I have truly come to enjoy the peacefulness that living alone brings. I didn't really realize how comfortable I had become with it until recently. Yes, I would love someone to share the happenings of my day with, someone to eat with and vacation with. But for now, this feels pretty good. And at this moment, it is like heaven.
I appreciate the silence. It is much easier to add noise when you need it than it is to take it away.
There is no one who comments on when, what or how much I choose to eat or drink in a given day.
My schedule is self created and can be changed whenever it needs to be. I don't need to fit into anyone else's so there is no negotiation or give and take required.
I don't need to try and figure out any unspoken messages regarding what someone else might want to do or where they want to go or what they want to eat.
While I enjoy walking with friends and chatting about the latest happenings in the world, there is something prayerful about walking alone in the earth's silence with only my footsteps to set the tempo. There is no one in charge of where we walk or how fast we make the trip. It is the closest I can get to meditation in the real world. I breathe. I step. I listen. I pray.
I like myself and like spending time with me. My memories, thoughts and dreams for the future are all the entertainment I need most days.
I have truly come to enjoy the peacefulness that living alone brings. I didn't really realize how comfortable I had become with it until recently. Yes, I would love someone to share the happenings of my day with, someone to eat with and vacation with. But for now, this feels pretty good. And at this moment, it is like heaven.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Renewed
My contract with planet earth has been renewed for another year. Barring any unforeseen illnesses or accidents I have been given the pleasure of continuing my journey of living and learning for another year. Happy New Year. There were many wonderful things that happened in 2008 - M and B's new house, my grandfather's 100th birthday celebration, a new job - but it is time to say good-bye to 2008 and welcome all the new experiences that await me today and all the tomorrows that are to come. I am not the person I was a year ago, a month ago or even yesterday. New experiences I have, people I talk to, food that I eat, thoughts that drift through my mind all contribute to the me I am becoming. There is no end product, only stops along the way that give me the chance to reflect on who I am at the moment and the turns that need to be made for the next phase of the journey. I love the idea that D has about how we change not only mentally, emotionally and spiritually, but even physically. We are in a constant process of shedding all sorts of cells into the world. When I touch my skin today, they are not the same cells I touched yesterday. My skin, my hair, everything about me is constantly being renewed. I will never again be the me I am in this instant.
As a teacher I am given two opportunities to stop and reflect on my life. One in the fall as I begin a new year professionally and another on New Year's to look at who I am in relationship to people and things that I care about. I continue to play the game of new year's resolutions but this year I am changing the noun to intentions. I have every intention of becoming a better person. With every sunrise I can renew that intention without regrets about what was or was not achieved the day before. In the teaching world we are asked to set annual goals and the manner in which they will be accomplished. With that in mind, here are my intentions for 2009.
I intend to eat more vegetables by eliminating meat from my diet 3 days a week.
I intend to leave a smaller carbon footprint on my beloved planet by simply living locally - eating locally grown foods and walking or biking instead of driving.
I intend to be a better friend, sister, daughter, mother by calling loved ones as they cross my mind instead of giving myself a litany of reasons not to - they're busy, I'm busy, they don't have time, I don't have time...
I intend to be kinder and more forgiving of my professional accomplishments by giving myself a virtual pat on the back at the end of every week for a mission accomplished.
I intent to be more present to the moment and allow my internal clock to tick without acknowledging the passing of time by feeling the discomfort of a changed plan and living through it. At the end I will have the pleasure of life that happened in place of my plan.
I intent to remember throughout everything that may or may not happen in the next 364 1/4 days that the universe is in charge and that I am along for the ride.
As a teacher I am given two opportunities to stop and reflect on my life. One in the fall as I begin a new year professionally and another on New Year's to look at who I am in relationship to people and things that I care about. I continue to play the game of new year's resolutions but this year I am changing the noun to intentions. I have every intention of becoming a better person. With every sunrise I can renew that intention without regrets about what was or was not achieved the day before. In the teaching world we are asked to set annual goals and the manner in which they will be accomplished. With that in mind, here are my intentions for 2009.
I intend to eat more vegetables by eliminating meat from my diet 3 days a week.
I intend to leave a smaller carbon footprint on my beloved planet by simply living locally - eating locally grown foods and walking or biking instead of driving.
I intend to be a better friend, sister, daughter, mother by calling loved ones as they cross my mind instead of giving myself a litany of reasons not to - they're busy, I'm busy, they don't have time, I don't have time...
I intend to be kinder and more forgiving of my professional accomplishments by giving myself a virtual pat on the back at the end of every week for a mission accomplished.
I intent to be more present to the moment and allow my internal clock to tick without acknowledging the passing of time by feeling the discomfort of a changed plan and living through it. At the end I will have the pleasure of life that happened in place of my plan.
I intent to remember throughout everything that may or may not happen in the next 364 1/4 days that the universe is in charge and that I am along for the ride.
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