The Mystery of My Life

The word for today is mystified. There have been more than a few times in my life where a huge obstacle is put in the way of what I perceive to be my path and it changes me forever. I could just be humming along my merry way when, BOOM, the rug is pulled out from under me. I tend to be one of those people who does most of her processing internally so the next thing that happens is that I think and ponder and question and in all honesty obsess about what has just happened and the purpose it has for my life. Then within a very short time it becomes abundantly clear why it has happened and all is made clear. Usually I am way off base on the why of it or the purpose it serves for the future of my life.

I was raised as a Presbyterian, whose strongest tenet is the belief in predestination. The questioning years of my adolescence was the beginning of the break for me with this religious idea. Why would God plan out my life and then sit back and watch it happen as if it was a movie whose script you yourself had written? Of course there is always free will and with someone like me that would certainly shake things up a bit. My recent years have had a stong focus on questioning. What do I want to do, why, who are the people that have the ability to lead me forward, how and with whom do I want to spend my time, what is the quality of life that matches my beliefs about the world? I work hard to be sure that the answers to these questions are the guiding force in decisions I make. Up until this year I had a pretty solid definition of my beliefs about who I am as a teacher. It had been tweaked a few times along the way but for the most part I "knew" that I could reach on some level every kid who ever walked into my room. All that came crashing down on this year. I spent all of Friday and most of Saturday realigning my thinking and redefining who I am as a teacher.

Last night Maria and I saw Jeannette Walls, the author of Glass Castles. This book was one of the most difficult memoirs I've ever read. At the end of every chapter I told myself, "It's OK, I know she lived through this horrendous childhood because she grew up to write this book." So here was this amazing woman standing before the audience telling her story and what she has learned. Her rate and expressiveness of speech was something to behold. She bears no grudges whatsoever against her parents nor the experiences she endured. They all came together to create her view of the world and the end result is that she sees similarities in people and their expereinces as opposed to the differences. The bulk of everything she said spoke directly to my heart about who I am as a teacher. She has achieved everything, everything, she has because of those experiences. No one came along and plucked her up to save her. That was up to her. She had to become a survivor because of the challenges she faced. She was the one that to stand up and fight for herself.

Driving out of the parking lot it all hit me like a ton of bricks. It had happened again. An obstacle had appeared in my path, I had thought and thought and thought about it and now it had been made clear. The question for me became do I have the ability to take events and apply them to what I need to figure out in my life or are those events put in my life to clear up my muddy waters? I believe the latter is true because it has happened so often. Given that belief, how did the universe/God know I was going to need this on April 25 at 8:00 PM. Why did a teacher at Sutter put that book in my hands, why did Maria's book club decide to read it, why did Maria tell me about Jeannette Walls speaking at the Marin Center and how did I come to accept her invitation? The series of events that had to happen for me to be sitting in that seat and accepting what I needed to hear at exactly that moment is overwhelming.

Yes, I am just a bit mystified.

The Wall

Before I even begin this post I have to give thanks once again for my wonderful daughter and son-in-law who have the greatest knack for helping me figure things out on this journey of life. I am definitely the youngest soul among the three of us.

I hit a big fat immovable wall today. Some of it is student related but most of it is me. We have a very challenging student who really has very little interest in the school world. My partner teacher and I have worked hard in the area of motivation throughout the year and mostly to no avail. Time is getting short and there just aren't many days left for a turn around. Today was my day where for the first time I had the notion of utter hopelessness. I am not a teacher who has EVER given up on a kid and I've had some pretty interesting ones in my 19 years. But I guess I'm preparing myself to throw in the towel. This is extremely difficult. #1, it just isn't in me and #2 with my experience in elementary school it simply wasn't possible. How do you give up on a kid when s/he is sitting there all day long and there's only 20 kids in the room? I never had a student I couldn't reach in some way or another so I truly believed that they were all savable. As an elementary teacher, most of them do want to please you so that is a huge step in the right direction. But even those whose relationship with you could wane from time to time, there was always some way to rope them in.

Middle School is different, very different. For one thing the ones that are failing have been failing for a very long time. They have gotten the message loud and clear so it's a pretty fast moving car to try and turn around. We, in middle school, truly are the crossing point for kids who make a decision about the role that school will play in their lives for the next few years. One of the things I realized tonight was that it was one thing for me to teach a 1st or 2nd grader who would one day drop out but it is quite another thing for me to realize that I could be the last stop on the journey. Could a kid walk out of my classroom at the end of the year and never step foot into another one? That is a heavy load for me to carry. Every day is one more step either toward or away from school. Up until today I truly thought I had the power to change any kid that came my way. It turns out that laughter and love are not always enough. My daughter is right. I can set the expectations and offer assistance but I can't do the work for him. He has to want it for himself on some level. Without the internal desire, there is nothing that can be achieved.

For 19 years I have been defining my role as a teacher as that of coach, leader, cajoler, motivator, mom, you name it; anything that would get the job done. Of course I had my share of those kids that would challenge me and the toolbox of teaching strategies I carried around. But I always felt like I had achieved at least some success with every kid that came my way. It is time to change the tape that plays in my head. If someone doesn't want to learn, there is really nothing that I can do to make it happen. At this age, choices are being made. I have to remember that there are all sorts of forks in the road on the journey of a lifetime. Who am I to say that the only way to the finish line is through a diploma at age 18? People who have taken the long way bring all sorts of other gifts that they could never receive without the additional stops along the way. This ah ha has brought me just a touch of peace. I know that I am not the teacher that will ever draw the line in the stand and walk away from a kid but I can make clear my expectations and what I, as his teacher can do to assist him in his search for knowledge. Learning takes 2 people working together to achieve the goal. I can't do it alone.

Earth Day

It isn't often that we are in school on Earth Day because of our regularly scheduled district spring break so I was quite happy to be able to incorporate a little of the real world into my writing class this week. We began with a discussion of Earth Day - what it is, why we celebrate it, where it came from. Of course all that was very humorous especially when my young academics discovered that I was a mere 15 years of age on the first Earth Day. I don't recall it being a very big deal in the heartland of America but as the years have passed I have grown to love it. It's just nice to take a day and recommit myself to the prolongation of our beautiful planet. As a first, second and third grade teacher I always tried to find a way to celebrate Earth Day with a combination of activities that increased students' knowledge of the planet along with a feeling of enjoyment such as sharing a cup of "dirt" along with a few gummi worms. We might paint the blue planet, make posters to remind ourselves of ways to respect our planet, take a tour of a recycling plant or pick up trash around the school grounds. So my expectation for 6th grade was pretty high. I figured they had had at least 6 years of these activities along with exposure to countless public service announcements to build a level of knowledge about numerous strategies to save the planet. I quickly learned that they knew the phrase Reduce, Reuse, Recycle but their written explanations to differentiate between the three processes were pretty vague. Most of them thought that using a water bottle over again was the perfect example of recycling. When pressed about the difference between recycling and reusing I got that funny look that only a 6th grader can make with absolute precision accompanied by a deep resonating "Huh?" So today I gave them my quick but complete explanation of how a plastic bottle goes from the bin they put in front of their house on Wednesday or Thursday mornings to reappearing on the Safeway shelf filled with their favorite sweet drink of choice. As I got to the conclusion of this little saga, a few heads started nodding slowly in that "Oh yeah. I remember hearing this before" rhythm. As we continued the discussion, it became a little easier for them to now grasp the difference between reusing a plastic bottle and repurchasing one that has been here before. Mission accomplished!

This has probably been my most fascinating observation of the move from 3rd to 6th grade. I am constantly caught off guard because I assume a certain level of knowledge based solely on them being in the world for 11 or 12 years. I introduce a topic believing that this is probably the hundredth time that they have heard it and must surely know what I'm talking about but quickly realize that the deafening silence in the room proves to me that once again I am all alone. I readjust my delivery and with only a stumble or two am back on track. I came to middle school thinking I'd be challenged by the ability level and at times that little dream has come true. But for the most part I am reminded that my big 6th graders are still young kids and have lots to learn about this big beautiful world.

Finding What You Need

There has been something big missing from my life over the past many months. One of the things that I know about myself is that I find my spirit in wide open spaces. Hiking is a necessity for me. It is my church, my refuge, my sanctuary. It changes me. I need to be out in the woods to feel better about the world. In looking back over my calendar this school year, it is a missing item. Some things have taken its place - breakfast or lunch with friends, Sunday walks in the park and, sad to say, lesson plans. I am taking a stand here and now. No more weekend lesson plans! I need to get back to nature.

Today I found myself at Edgewood County Park to enjoy the wildflowers. This is an annual trek for me and it usually happens during spring break. There are lots of places where you can see poppies and larkspurs and violets but Edgewood is always a sure bet. It did not disappoint today.

The funny thing about hiking is the minute my foot hits the trail I am changed. Feeling dirt under my feet instantly sends a jolt of energy throughout my body and relaxation to my brain. All thinking about school, house, money or any other senseless worry is instantly removed from my thought processes. What takes its place is simple awe of the beauty around me - the endless deep blue sky, textures of rock formations, hills and valleys that lead my feet ever forward anxiously seeking what is around the next bend. If only I could live my day to day life with that curiosity and wonder. The amazing combinations of colors of wild flowers is such a sight to behold. The yellow and purple floral blankets that are created by viewing them from a distance are almost as beautiful as the close up of the individual blossom. It's that reminder not to forget to keep in balance the wide view as well as the zoom perspective of our existence. There is beauty in both.

Today I was also entertained by the people I encountered on the trail. Each group has its own identity and leaves its print on you whether its a connection to a memory of the past or something you've never encountered before and you just say hmm.... as it passes by. The trail runners can be friendly and courteous as you make room for them or they may not even know you were ever there. The family groups are fascinating. I saw a mom telling her kid that in only 5 more minutes the "hard" part would be over. The child simply stopped in the middle of the trail, glancing at an overhanging limb covered with moss and said "What a cool tree!' We are so busy getting kids through the hard parts that we miss what is here in front of us in this moment. Then there was the family who was hiking along and the 7 or 8 year old boy had lagged behind and was off the trail inadvertently crushing plants as he attempted to walk as slow as is humanly possible. I think I've seen that boy somewhere before. He was sending a message loud and clear and Mom just said, "Hurry up Andrew!" But my favorites of the day were 2 separate couples one a dad and grown daughter and the other a husband and wife. In the first case the dad wanted to know if there were open fields up wildflowers up ahead. I reassured him that, yes indeed, there were while the daughter tried to avoid the uphill trek by telling him that "This was fine. I don't need to see anymore." The final scenario was the wife asking me "Is it up ahead?" to which the husband in his drippiest voice said, "What do you mean IT? This is it." I chatted with them for a moment about the importance of the journey but I don't think she was buying it.

I am grateful to live here in this amazing place filled with so many hiking opportunities. As our California fees and taxes escalate I am reminded of the reason I will never leave. I can't imagine my life with out the things we are given at no expense - sunshine, blue skies, the myriad of shades of green held in distant hillsides, golden poppies and the dirt beneath my feet.

Another List

Things I Love About My Car

First and foremost, it is red, my favorite color. I don't really remember how long I have wanted a red car but I know that it was pre-teaching the kids to drive. And that was a very long time ago. Somehow I was convinced that a driver in a red car would get more tickets. But in all fairness, that was also back in my "speeding" days. When I look at it sitting in my driveway, I still have to remind myself that it belongs to me.

I got everything I wanted. Translation: It has a sunroof.

It's smaller than an SUV and bigger than a Jetta. Goldilocks and I agree that this one is just right. It is still big enough to hold my camping stuff and I can load my bike in the trunk and the fold-down backseats.

I am driving back on the ground again. There is no step up just to get inside my car. While the view from there was good, it was a little unwieldy getting things in and out of the car in one motion. I'm all about efficiency.

The controls are in exactly the same place at the RAV4 so I don't have to learn anything new.

The auxiliary input makes it possible, not only to listen to my ipod but more importantly, I can take Pandora Radio with me everywhere.

It is easy to find in the parking lot. That red just seems to shout at me, "Here I am!"

It is the reminder that I am through moving. No big car will mean renting a truck the next time I get a hare-brained idea to change jobs or towns. That will definitely slow me down long enough to think things through.

I will be saving money. The gas mileage will be better and it is cheaper to insure.

Things I Don't Love About My Car

The Bluetooth doesn't seem to recognize my iphone. Oh well. I'm not a telephone person anyway.

The ash seats. I don't really eat in my car but that color is awfully light. Maybe it will blend better with Jacks fur than the black ones in the RAV4 did.

So, yes, I do love my car - more than I should love any inanimate object. But this is only Day 2. I'm sure in no time at all, I'll be taking her for granted. But for now. I'm a very happy car owner.

Things I Love About Spring Break 2009

1. The color green
At this time of year, everything is bursting forth ready to bloom. My deck garden resembles a little green carpet. It is all I can do not to take my shoes off and wiggle my toes in its green lushness. Even the weeds look good.

2. Time
All my breaks from school bring an awareness of time. This one has made me realize that the more time I have the less I waste. When I am at work I am constantly thinking about things I need to do when I'm not working. Someday I will learn to write these things down instead of having to remember to think about them again when I am not at work so they can be addressed. While I've been home this week I was able to deal with anything that popped into my head and then still had time to enjoy the pleasures of life. It is an interesting thing, the more time I have the less I waste but the less time I have the more I waste. It just doesn't make sense.

3. Watching the rhythm of the world around me
I am fascinated by the view outside my front window. People come and go in their cars on a regular basis. The older people take their walks at about the same time everyday. The sun makes its journey across the sky changing the light patterns inside my house. I am lulled into some sense of relaxation simply by the regularity of it all.

4. Time to face issues of my life with some sense of logic
I am able to address problems that need to be dealt with in my life with something more than a knee jerk reaction. My money/car thing still hangs over my head but I can process it with a little more in-depth reaction. Perhaps it's just the ability to look at things with a broader vision. The world is not coming to an end. I can still afford to eat and drink. I have a roof over my head. And there is even a car in the driveway. If not, that little red bicycle would love to go for a ride.

5. Sunshine
I am a great lover of light. Even despite the high winds of the past couple days, I have deeply enjoyed the longer and brighter light of April in Santa Clara. Recently I have had thoughts that I could live quite happily in Florida where it's lighter for more of the year. Would I miss the changing of the seasons? Would I appreciate the increase in light without the darkness it must overcome?

6. Looking back
Spring break is a time where there isn't much left of the school year so it's a little frightening to look forward. 39 days isn't long to finish off the curriculum that must be done before these kids are sent to 7th grade. So it is a great time to look back at where I started 8 or 9 months ago. I knew so little about middle school coming in, so I am pleasantly surprised to still be so happy about the move up. On one level I feel incredibly lucky to have landed so softly. But I also know that the experiences of my past have prepared me for where I am today. Lucky me.

7. The approval to do nothing
As I get older I give myself the permission to "waste" time. This is not part of my Iowa upbringing so it has been a huge hurdle to overcome. I can know sit on the couch for an hour or so and read fiction. I can sit on the deck for longer than it takes to eat lunch or dinner and just sit.

8. Taking the time to walk
The days have very few scheduled events so I can take the time to walk to the store or the bank or wherever I need to go - even to La Paloma for that Cadillac Margarita with dear friends.

9. Cooking
I take the time to cook breakfast everyday and actually plan a menu for lunch and dinner. I have tried out a few new recipes this week and loved them all. I love the adventure of assembling ingredients and the voila feeling of when it's done. The first taste is a total sensory experience.

10. Reconnecting
I have enjoyed hanging out with my friends and family. Bill's Cafe, the aforementioned La Paloma, Easter Brunch, Barefoot Coffee, phone calls to celebrate birthdays and just because I'm thinking of you. It is that reminder that we were put here together to be in relationship with one another.

I am extremely grateful for all I have been given. Time is clearly the theme of this break. It is all we have and it is up to us to determine how it will be spent. Alone/together Working/playing Sitting and breathing/Walking and thinking I love my job not only for the actual work I do but for the time I am given away from it.
Christmas break,
February break,
Spring break
It is in the time spent reflecting that I can become better at what I do not only at school but in the world. The person I am becoming comes to me in the quiet times. I give thanks for the peacefulness that currently resides in my heart and guides me forward. I am calm. I am serene. I am happy to be in the place at this time.

News From the Shoulder Department

Drum roll please .....
After many days and weeks of preparation, a long awaited goal has been reached. The last few days I have made a conscious effort to pull my shirts over my head when dressing and undressing. I know how ridiculous this sounds but I have discovered that when body parts hurt your brain will find ways of accomplishing things without enduring the screech that inadvertently accompanies extreme sharp pain. Today was the day that I was going to make my first attempt at putting on a back closure bra. So I chose my favorite black number with great excitement and trepidation. It took two tries but I did it! I have to admit that it was not pain free but there was no screech at the end so I know my mission has been attained and every day will just get better. Yahoo!

RAV4 Update

I had a few extra minutes today so I thought I would check on my friend Eddy at SC Toyota and the status of my car. Much to my dismay Eddy wasn't there today. Darn! So in the space of less than 5 minutes I was put on hold 3 times. Eddy's partner, Dan informed me that the water pump didn't come in today but they were hoping it would be there tomorrow. My response, "Are you expecting it tomorrow?" He couldn't actually answer that but thought it would be good if it showed up. The end result was he would check on it in the parts department and call me back. At least he didn't put me on hold again but I didn't plan on waiting around for the phone to ring. So about 2 hours later I got a voice mail saying that he couldn't really get an exact ETA of my water pump but when it was ordered they had said 7 to 10 days and today was day 7. Once again he said it would be good if it came in tomorrow so they could get my car out of there. Hmm... Maybe they're getting tired of maneuvering around my car every day. I wish I could muster up some sympathy for those guys.

The Week That Will Never End

Monday morning came and a smile filled my soul. Just 5 days until spring break. Ahh.... spring break. It is truly my favorite of the year. It is not Easter break, it is all about spring. I rarely leave town on this one because I want to be home to soak up all that the change of the season has to offer. 5 days until spring break - that's it.

Monday was Monday; an almost ordinary day except for the multi-cultural door contest that needed to be planned. My bright spot was the news after lunch that one of our kids had skipped school. Now I only call it "bright" because he decided to stop by school at lunch and share the news that he was skipping school. I guess he had gotten bored hanging out at Safeway, 7-11 and Starbucks, a middle school student's desired destinations. So, yes, his friends all ratted him out. Unbelievable.

After school, I zipped over to meet with one of my new teachers. Then it was back to school to do sub plans for Thursday. Another 6:00 day and home to correct social studies papers.

Tuesday - a teacher in-service day that was spent scoring writing PBAs. Around the 10th one I suddenly realized that what used to be brain appeared to have turned to mush. These are 6th grade 5 paragraph essays on one of two topics - the SCUSD nutritional policy or reasons they should be able to choose their own seats. There are only so many ways that the 12 year old mind can defend those topics. I will admit there were a few that entertained me but for the most part, it was pure drudgery.

This was followed by a 2 1/2 hour IEP meeting. The student is one of my favotites but the mom just couldn't understand what we were trying to communicate regarding progress and his annual goals. I never dreamed that I would ever be using my knowledge of 1st grade reading skills and strategies in a middle school conference. It goes back to what I have always believed about my life. Everything I have ever done was necessary for what I would need when I got to today. There were 3 teachers there and I know that for every topic we covered each one of us had to explain it a different way to achieve even an inkling of understanding. She took copious notes and wrote all over the IEP plan. I truly have never seen anything like it. At 5:30 she said she would take the goals home, revise them and send them back to the SDC teacher. Unbelievable! (Yes. I know I said that on Monday.) When I got home I could not even think about fixing dinner. Like a robot, I opened the refrigerator, took out the leftover mac and cheese and dug in. That was followed of course by a nice Chardonnay.

Wednesday - another IEP at 7:45. This was polar opposite to yesterday's. Mom showed up in her pajamas and a 49er sweatshirt. It was clear she was not in any condition to maintain order in a house that now contains 3 6th graders and a 6 year old, three of which are special ed. I spent my first period prep tweaking my Thursday sub plans, correcting papers and figuring out where I'm going in social studies after spring break. Most of the rest of the day was spent on our "Italian Door." I took time out to address my wayward student who somehow thought it would be a great idea to skip school and then met with another one who chose to throw a racial slur in science class. By lunch I was completely done. But lo and behold, a plate of brownies walked in the room. Yahoo! Maybe I'll make it through the day after all. Then forms for 7th grade schedules were dumped in the 6th grade teacher's laps. They had to be filled out, sent home for parent signatures and returned by Friday. Unbelievable. (I know. I know. I already said that.) The door somehow gets finished and now it's time for our grade level meeting. This was phase two from last week. But this time everyone was present so all the cards were out on the table - ELL, special ed, science, PE and preps. Next on the agenda is a mandatory faculty meeting in honor of STAR testing. If that's not enough we tagged on a visit from the superintendent to discuss the present state of the district budget. Finally the day is over and time to party. We had Lindsey's shower and celebrated the beautiful mommy and baby-to-be.

Tomorrow is Thursday. The social studies doors will be judged. I will be involved in an ELL meeting for most of the day followed by a visit to my other new teacher to discuss her unit summative assessments and evaluate student growth. UGH. After school there will be a multi-cultural food event which I will probably have to miss.

And then it will finally be Friday. Oh, sweet Friday. We will have a shortened schedule in order to end with a multi-cultural performance from some Ohlone Indians and Aztec dancers. And then the week will finally be over

Spring Break, here I come!

Finacial Woes

Close to a month ago, I came upon an idea to achieve some of my financial goals; sell my car which would eliminate my remaining car payments for the next 2 years and pocket the extra to pay off my credit card debt and get back to ground zero. Now, I am famous for coming up with crazy schemes that achieve short term goals but are not in my best interest in the long run. So I sat with this one for a couple weeks before I made any moves.

In recent months, my world has become extremely small and it is possible for me to walk or bike to almost anywhere I have to go. I work 8 blocks from home, the nearest Safeway is only an additional 3 blocks away. I toyed with the idea of going carless but knew that was where I had gone too far. So the next thought was to buy an old car to use for emergency trips. I quickly discovered that purchasing an old car would then nix the ability to pay off my credit card. Then, lo and behold, my ex-husband decided to buy a new car and asked me if I would like to take over ownership of his 137,000 mile Jetta. There was the answer!

So I put my car on Craigs List and waited to see what would happen. There were several responses and a few people came by to see it. On the 6th day of the 7 day ad I received a short e-mail that said, "please call ---------- if you're still interested in selling rav4." I figured what the heck. I called the number and the voice mail greeting was definitely British. I wasn't feeling very positive at this point and was already entertaining the notion of relisting the add at a reduced price since I would be making another payment the following Friday. But the Brit found his way from Pleasanton and took a short test drive. He said he was looking at a couple more cars and would need to get approval from his wife who was still in London.

As the week progressed the e-mails and text messages were flying in at an incredible speed. Somehow I held myself together and just took one day at a time to see where it all ended up. We were dealing with DMV issues as well as the transfer of money. The buyer wanted to be assured that the car was in good shape mechanically so I agreed to have a dealer inspection done. This is where my relationship began with the evil doers at Stevens Creek Toyota. I called them Tuesday morning to schedule an appointment for the inspection and they said, "Oh you don't need an appointment. You can just bring it in." So that's just what I did. When I got there and told them what I needed I was told that they couldn't possibly do it today because today was a semi holiday as it happened to be Caesar Chavez Day. So I made an appointment for Wednesday. I showed up Wednesday and told them I had an appointment which the man totally ignored and went through the entire process once again of writing down all the pertinent numbers in my car. We got inside the office and he said, "Oh I see you have done this already." No shit, Sherlock! So I went inside to get comfortable in the waiting room and set about to correct my pile of social studies papers. Shortly after I finished the stack I was given the news that I had a leaking water pump. I updated my buyer with the news and after another flurry of e-mails we decided that we would have it repaired here and plan to transfer money and the car on Saturday. I contacted SC Toyota and dropped off the car Thursday night without another thought about it. As the day progressed I sort of waited for word from the dealer to hear that the car was ready. That didn't happen. I finally called them before my 6th period class. My new friend Eddie said to me, "Did you get my voice mail?" Nope. He then proceeded to tell me that they could not replace the water pump because they were still waiting for the part to come in. I had one of those weird reactions when you laugh at inopportune times. I laughed and kind of shouted, "You're kidding!" I then proceeded to inform Eddie that I was selling my car tomorrow afternoon and I needed a guarantee that my car would be ready by noon. He, of course could not give me a guarantee but assured me that they would do everything in their power to have it ready between 10 and 12 on Saturday. At this point, my increase in heart rate reminded me of how much I hate, yes hate, ineptitude. Friday night passed and I noticed a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. This always happens when for some reason things are not going as planned. Somehow I just know. Saturday morning I received the answer. Eddie called at 9:30 with his deepest apologies and was willing to do almost anything for me knowing this would severely compromise the sale of my car. It turns out that there is a huge shortage of RAV4 water pumps nationwide. Headquarters was saying anywhere from 2-4 weeks to fill the back orders. Now here is the clincher. They had already taken my water pump out before they realized this problem. I have some difficulty understanding this plan of attack. Isn't that a little like deciding to make a cake before you see if there is any flour in the pantry? So the old water pump could not be put back because the seal has been broken; a new water pump is unavailable. What now? The buyer was very patient but understandably did not want to invest such a large amount of money into a car that was laying on pieces on the Toyota garage floor. The last word came Saturday at 3:30 that Toyota was hopeful they could get a water pump in a week but it could be 2 weeks. The buyer is going to go back to his search for a car. I will be relisting my car on Craigs list but right now have nothing to sell.

I am currently more irritated with human beings than I have been in a long time. But at the same time am deeply grateful that I have a car to drive. I would like very much for Toyota to make amends - this is the revengeful side of me speaking - but since the car is still under warranty until April 29th the repair will be free anyway. So in the end, I am just left with my bills and a good idea on how to pay them.

This Week

This week feels a little bit like a driving in a freak snow storm. You can't figure out where it came from and there is no way that you can see your way out of it. Every school calendar has one of those periods where you think the devil must have planned it. Who in their right mind would put all of these things together in a 5 day period? The quarter ended on Friday which meant final grading of projects in order to close out report cards along with comments for all those below C students. Today is the District Science Fair. Tomorrow is Open House. Wednesday and Thursday are block schedule days and the district scheduled both the science and writing end of year performance based assessments to be given on the same days. In addition to all of this, I also have 3 separate BTSA meetings this week. And in the meantime, I am attempting to sell my car. The e-mails flying back and forth are something to behold. It is a great lesson in taking one day at a time. It truly is all I can handle during times like this.

I Love Flour Babies

The 7th graders at my school do a one week project where they take care of a baby for a week. They are required to take the baby everywhere throughout the school day. These babies are five pounds of flour that are enclosed inside the body of a stuffed doll. It is just the sweetest thing to see our goofy little 7th grade boys hauling around their babies before school. There is a seriousness to it because anyone caught disrespecting their babies is of course reported to the office. I have really enjoyed our TA coming in with her baby this week. On Monday the baby was faceless and nameless. During the course of the week, she has acquired a name, some beautiful blue eyes and really long eyelashes along with a cute little frog outfit. Our little mother was having a bit of trouble filing while holding the baby today so I got the pleasure of carrying her around the room for a bit while my students worked on their Greek god posters. My kids went kind of cuckoo for a moment but it was great fun to just think about babies for a bit.

That Time of Year Again

Spring in Santa Clara means junk in the street, loose papers, dust blowing across the lawn and scavengers cruising the streets in search of treasures out of trash. It is our annual clean up time. For years I have said that no one could possibly have this mush crap stored away in their homes to be brought out year after year. And yet, year after year, that is exactly what happens. I am so happy to find my little space of empty curb as I come home each day. I am proud to be junkless this year. My remodeling days are over and I do my best to move my unused clothing and household goods to the Goodwill on a regular basis. In my mind, junk belongs in the trash and we already have a truck that comes by every week for that purpose. I'm not a saver so there is no way I can understand the amount of just stuff I see in the street. Mattresses, broken down furniture, old appliances, boxes and boxes of c-r-a-p. But the most fascinating part of the whole process is to watch the scavengers. They always know the weekend that each part of town is scheduled to put their stuff out. The go getters are out bright and early on Saturday morning and often are putting things in their trucks as quickly as you can bring them to the curb. I fluctuate between thinking that it's a great way for the poor to get things they can use to build what they need and just being irritated at the parade of vans and trucks that puruse the neighborhood throughout the weekend. It is just part of our Santa Clara culture. This year it is expecially messy because of the mixed up weather. Our nice warm afternoons somehow morphed into cold, rain and wind. Not a good mixture with piles and piles of c-r-a-p that have been stored in some distant corner of a dusty, moldy garage for the past 11 months. I am defintely not a neat freak but I am ready for the big truck to come take it all away.

Who we become

It seems that lately the paper has been filled with deaths of teenage boys. I was most touched by the Los Gatos high school student who didn't come home from the beach and was assumed drowned. This touched me for a myriad of reasons. Death of the young has a profound effect on the loved ones left behind. P, D and I had an interesting discussion over dinner and wine a few nights ago about the way we have each as individuals been changed by losing a brother and son. Losing my brother at a young age changed who I would become. It changed my place in the family. I went from being one of the middle children to the "baby." I liked being third a lot better. Middle kids can get away with a lot. It changed how I felt about the world. It was no longer a safe place. And it changed me spiritually. I was just certain that I would be the next to go. As I have aged, I have been able to sort and classify a lot of the feelings that resulted from his death but nothing can change the fact that one single event can forever change who I became. I viewed life as a sister who had lost her brother. P and D had similar feelings in the death of their son. Everyone in the family felt that loss in many different ways. But the end result is that they are all different people today because of that event.

In the classroom, we as teachers like to look out at our students and think that we are looking at 11 or 12 year olds, boys and girls, high, middle and low achievers. But that is an injustice to who they really are. Each one of those kids is different. They have had different experiences that have changed who they are becoming. They have had loved ones die, they are living in divorced homes, they have parents who are losing jobs and fighting to hold on. There is only one way I can look at those 60 some kids - as children who are trying to make their way in the world, who are being changed day by day by events of which they have no control, and to look deeply and see the reality of who they truly are.

Lost Generation

Hope is the answer.

I Just Can't Decide...

Today felt like the first day in I don't know how long that I didn't have a meeting after school. I was so excited just to have some time to get my head together on my Ancient China unit. Actually, in all honesty, I don't know if you can call it a unit or not. Not knowing much about ancient China or having any other activities to teach with, I just stuck with the book. We are all incredibly bored and I just want to get it over with so we can get to Greece. Well there was no head-getting=together time today because of the piles of papers that needed to be corrected. So I turned on Pandora and just got busy looking forward to the idea of not taking any work home for a change. I am very focused when working in my classroom and I know I actually get through it faster but I also love, love being at home on the couch. It is an on-going dilemma for me with the additional paper work in middle school. Should I put the extra time in at school so that when I actually do go home I can relax without grades on my mind or do I get out of there as soon as I can and fit the work in at home as the evening progresses? As an elementary teacher, I was adamant about never taking school home but it is much more challenging these days. I am determined to not let the paperwork get ahead of me and so far I have stayed on top of it all. BTSA meetings with the new teachers I support just do not make it possible to finish my work at school on a daily/nightly basis. So today I hung in there until it was all done including my note taking on Taoism for tomorrow's lesson. The problem is I was still sitting at my desk at 6:00. That's not good. But I did enjoy my walk home with a completely empty head. I saw flowers I hadn't noticed before, enjoyed the sun falling into the rising fog and exchanged greetings with the guys hanging around the liquor store panhandling for "bus fare." That's certainly worth something. So my dilemma continues but I don't worry too much about it. This like all dilemmas that I try to make into decisions, will be taken care of by the universe one way or the other.

Earth

The cosmos was once thought to be made up of only 4 elements; earth, air, water, and fire. In my early adult years I had a strong affinity toward fire. Perhaps it was just the leftovers of my teenage angst and college rebellion. The baby years were definitely a time of water for me. But the last few years I have felt my spirit mellow into earth. I am one of those people who has an internal clock that is in total sync with the rising and setting of the sun. I have no need of an alarm clock and only use one if I have an appointment that is completely out of the ordinary. I feel sorry for people who have to be jarred out of their sleep by obnoxious noises.

So here we are in the first day of Daylight Savings Time. Winter is bidding adieu and Spring is taking her stand. This is the time of year when I feel the pull to earth the strongest. The increase in light and drying of the land practically drags me into nurseries and out to the back yard. I try to keep up with my weeds throughout the year but it is in March that it actually brings me joy to pull as many as I possibly can. I clear the path reaching out and bringing back handfuls of green stems and yellow blossoms. I am like a farmer who cultivates in great swaths of his field. I move across the yard section by section sometimes vertically and sometimes horizontally, leaving emptiness in my wake. I love the sight of the brown black earth that lies beneath. It is the blank canvas that will bring forth the unknown summer blooms and vegetables. I'm not one of those people who insists on garden gloves. They're nice when I think about putting them on but I actually love the feel of dirt inside my fingernails. I have often thought it is because I work in a job where it is difficult to see what you accomplished in the day to day scheme of things. But dirt in your nails and clear garden paths make it very clear. You can stand back and admire that and say, "Look what I did today." When I am in the dirt I lose all concerns or worries for the future. I feel completely grounded and know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I am simply there accepting what is and knowing what can never be. Tulips and daffodils only bloom in the spring, tomatoes and zucchini have to wait for their time in summer. I remember once again the importance of allowing the universe to be in charge. As the sun travels across the sky I am being pulled again. I am hesitant to stop my gardening. I want to hold on to the feelings of harmony that have once again returned as I move toward spring. But I know I have a school bag full of papers waiting for me. I promise myself to find time during the week to return to the garden. This is what that mortgage is all about and why I live in a little green house with a big back yard.

First Grade is Such a Distant Memory

Long long ago I was a first grade teacher and I did it for a long long time. As a support provider I once again find myself in first grade classrooms to observe my teachers. The same feeling washes over me each time I cross the threshhold. I did this? I stood in front of these little bodies for 180 days at a crack and taught them to read and write and add and subtract? You have got to be kidding me! As I look at these little ones with confusion over who I was or who I have become I distinctly remember my family saying the same sorts of things to me. How do you do it? Where does the patience come from to work with 6 year olds? I have absolutely no explanation of the journey I have been on. But when I looked at those kids today it was like being on another planet. They have such round little faces and bodies and speak with such squeaky high pitched voices. Looking into their eyes, the word diligence came into my head. They all looked so darned serious about what they were doing. They sit up straight in their chairs and speak with the upmost respect to any and all adults. Seriousness pervades their very being. It is such an opposite world from my sixth grade students who just flop into their chairs and meet your gaze with that "I dare you to teach me look." Glancing around the room you're amazed at the cleanliness, for lack of a better term. The girls are so cute from the top of their perfectly parted hair below a crown of headbands and frilly little scrunchies all the way down to their shiny sparkly shoes. The boys are almost squeaky clean in their tucked in polo shirts and perfect pants. They're even cute when they are getting in trouble. The lower lip gets sucked inside the mouth and you wait for the tears but they are held tight inside. They sulk down in their chairs until you think they will completely melt away. Minutes later someone is walk/skip/dancing across the room. You hear something that resembles a song and realize that one of them is read/chant/singing the directions on the paper. It is close to comical but the seriousness that is everywhere in the room keeps the smile on your face from being vocalized into a giggle. Something catches my eye and I see an upside down index finger being inserted into a mouth like iron to a magnet. Is the seriousness turning into something more? As I rise to leave, I see one of those perfect princesses running towards me. I bend down to meet the outstretched arms and she says, "Thank you for coming to watch us today." How cute is that? But really... I did this? Everyday? For 8 years? It is umcomprehensible but at the same time a wonderful reminder of this amazing journey I am on.

The Comfort of Old Friendships

The comfort of old friendships is a feeling that can not be duplicated. I had dinner with an old friend tonight for the first time in quite a while. Our lives took a few turns that caused us to lose track of one another for a couple years so this was our chance to reconnect. We go back more years than I care to admit but we first met during the days of the vegetable coop and soon after that our kids went to school together. Those "kids" are now 31 years old. Hard to believe. We taught together many many years ago. She was as close to a mentor as I have ever had. I cannot imagine the number of hours we have passed talking literacy in the last 20 years. She has moved on to administration and I to middle school. We have often compared our friendship to a pair of old shoes. One day you rediscover them in the back of your closet and immediately remember how comfortable those shoes are and put them back on just for the pure pleasure of it all. Oh yes. I love my old shoes. The wonder of those tried and true friendships come from being so well known. There's no need to try and explain who you are, where you have come from or how you ended up where you are today. It is all understood. The conversation is easy and it just seems to flow from one topic to another. There is no issue with sharing food or splitting bills. It is all just so comfortable. I am grateful for the journey I am on and all those I have been given to accompany me. But I really like it when I circle back around and have the joy once again of hanging out with an old friend.

The Importance of What We Do

Today was a big fat reawakening of the importance of what I do. I am a teacher. I spend my day with children who will one day become men and women. These people will wear my touch. What and how I say and do will change who they become. The power that I hold is humbling.

Over my 19 years of teaching I have been affected by the children I teach in countless ways. They say and do such sweet and humorous things. I laugh every single day. There aren't many people in the world that can say that about their jobs. But sometimes along with that laughter come tears. Today was one of those days. We had an IEP for a child that has had a childhood that no one would want. This child went to school everyday not knowing if his mom would be alive when he got home. Domestic violence is a horrible thing. He is now being raised by his grandparents. His grandmother told his story today with such honesty and compassion, no one left that room unchanged. I cannot imagine what it would be like to have the strength to take on the responsibilities of raising your grandchild while leaving your daughter behind. Neither my brain nor heart can go there. This wonderful woman implored each of us as her grandson's teachers to help her raise this precious child.

Since my move to middle school my foucs has been much more on curriculum and content. Today was a reminder that no matter how old our students are, we as teachers are critical partners in the development of the hearts and minds of these children who indeed will very soon become men and women. I know that when I walk through that classroom door tomorrow, it will be with a new awaeness of my role in the lives of my students.

Aging

For the first time in my life I can feel my body aging. This sounds extremely bizarre coming from the middle grandchild of a 101 year old man but it is true. I have been through some interesting events in my life but have always depended on my body to heal itself and have never been disappointed. I never understood people who were always complaining about all their little aches and pains. I'm not whining but I can definitely feel a change in the air. In the past 3 years I have had (self induced) tendonitis in my elbow, a weird thing in my neck, a strange unexplained and extremely painful swelling in my foot and now a frozen shoulder. All of these involved anti-inflammatory drugs, several doctor's visits and follow up physical therapy that required repeated exercises at home. I'm just feeling a little tired of it all. It isn't the way I thought it would go. I expected to slow down as the years went by but I didn't expect for specific parts of my party to completely quit on me. It is humbling and I am slowly but surely learning to accept the hurdles that seem to keep popping up in my path. The good news is that my shoulder is with my obsessive exercise regiment increasing in flexibility and I can't wait to go back to therapy for more pressure and oscillations.

Home

After my visit with my parents and grandfather, I am filled with thoughts of family and home. Just as I have many definitions of family in my head, so too are there numerous mental images that come to mind with the word home. Home is first and foremost my little green house on Fremont Street. Even though I only share it with Jack, I have succeeded in creating a refuge that suits who I have become at this moment in time. It is my safe place to land. Interestingly enough the next picture that comes to mind is the house on College Ave where I raised my children. That house still makes me feel warm and loved inside. Although some sad things happened there I never ever remember it with anything but happiness. After that, home and family seem to morph together. No matter what structure my parents live in, it feels like home. So there are all kinds of pictures that float by - the houses I grew up in as well as the houses they have lived in after I left. There is something so comfortable about being home with Mom and Dad. My parents are two people who at times can be mistaken for one. They move and converse together as they have for 58 years. If Dad says "X" you know that Mom will say "Y." It is the predictability that creates the feeling of safety. You know how each day will go. It follows a rhythm that you can almost reach out and touch. Breakfast is first thing in the morning, lunch is at noon and happy hour is at 5. Mom cooks and cleans. Dad is /thinks he is in charge. They each know and fulfill their given roles without complaint or issue. It is something I often envied as a wife. Everything in the house is familiar. The dishes, pots and pans, linens and knick knacks are the same as they have always been. There is a story that goes with each one - the crystal from Aunt Marie, Grandma Larson's hand crocheted doilies, and the wooden carving purchased on our honeymoon. And then there are the photographs. They are in every room and once placed remain there. As I age I become more aware of the importance of stopping time with pictures so I am much more understanding these days of seeing photos from various stages of my life looking back at me as I move from room to room. It is clear that for me, it is the predictability that creates the familiar feeling of home.

Middle School Valentine's Day

Cute is the word for the day. Believe it or not it was only a year ago that I was on yard duty in elementary school on Valentine's Day. I remember so clearly thinking about how darn cute the little ones were as they wished one another a Happy Valentine's Day. And by little ones, I mean 1st graders. There they were, dressed in all the red, white and pink that they could dig up. They would just walk up to a friend, say "Happy Valentine's Day" and give one another a big hug. Neither gender, age nor size had any impact on who you shared your good wishes with. It didn't cost a thing and it was obviously right from the heart. Well that is exactly what I saw this morning before school. The kids were a little taller and ganglier but the sentiments were identical. I even watched 2 Sutter graduates play it out before my very eyes. There was nothing romantic or odd about it in the least. And somehow the fact that I had watched these kids move from elementary to middle school made the connection that much more concrete. Girls and boys alike bobbed on campus bearing gifts of chocolate and balloons and hugs galore just waiting to be released. Several students skipped up to me, handed me a piece of candy and blurted out, Happy Valentine's Day, Ms. Allen. They were all so darn cute. Everywhere I looked I saw kids sharing from the heart.

It all makes me wonder if we are missing the boat by having those elementary school Valentine's Day parties. The rules have been clearly spelled out. You are not required to bring valentines but if you do you must bring one for everyone. Of course valentines today come with some sort of candy attached. So the fun I recall of reading hand written valentines has been replaced with s non-stop sugar high as each kid competes to see who can give the most candy disguised as a valentine When in reality all our kids want to do is give a hug and wish their friends a happy Valentine's Day.

My Wake Up Call

Uh oh. My bad dream is coming true. One of my greatest concerns about teaching ancient history was born when I first saw the standards many months ago. Early humans, Mesopotamia, Egypt, Hebrews, India, China, Greece and Rome... What? Are you serious? You could take one of those a month and still not get through anything of importance. Early on I knew I wanted to spend most of the time on Egypt, Greece and Rome. I've had a sinking feeling that I was running a little behind but I really thought I was doing OK until I looked at the pacing guide this morning. Yikes! I need to finish India and cover China in the next 4 weeks just to allow 6 weeks each for Greece and Rome. This is not going to be a pretty sight. It might be time to find some very informative DVDs.

This is slightly humorous knowing my education history. I received my credential at that crossing point between Back to Basics and Whole Language. This means we had to do all our lesson plans according to the 6 points of Madeline Hunter but you couldn't dare mention the word phonics. I quickly learned that the best way to "cover" a textbook was to sit on it. The text was only a resource. Back in those days, I created my own curriculum based almost completely on observational records. At the end of the day I evaluated the reading and writing that was accomplished and the next steps for tomorrow. It seemed so easy back then before the age of standards. I was also extremely lucky to work with someone who shared my great love of the workshop model. Well if Nancy could see me today she would not believe I am the same teacher who was the curriculum coordinator of a small Catholic school and would go head to head with the principal on a regular basis and even won a few battles from time to time. Now, the social studies textbook is one of my best friends. I wouldn't have had the first clue about how to teach Judaism without getting into trouble. So here I am stuck between India and China refusing to let any of it go. My kids deserve the best I have to offer. So somehow we will muddle through and hopefully all the pieces will fall into place in their brains. I will definitely need to make some changes the second time around.

Happy Birthday Grandpa

It's time for Grandpa's annual birthday letter. After 95 or so there really isn't anything you can buy for a person. All we can give is our time and thanks. So here is the 101 installment.
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Happy Birthday Grandpa,
You are my own personal super hero. Superman may be faster than a speeding bullet and able to leap tall buildings. But you have done so much more than that. You have lived a long healthy life. You have been the patriarch of a still growing family that has taken on your values for their own. You have shown us all the importance of the connection to earth, air, and water.
I no longer have an explanation for your long life. You have now lived for more than 101 years with very few physical problems. You are up and att’em every day. You cook, clean and take care of your house with no assistance whatsoever. Your latest experience with a colonoscopy has caused me to question exactly what you are. I have never known another human being to endure that without some sort of uncomfortable side effects. Perhaps you are a remnant of the little pink Energizer Bunny commercial that just keeps going and going and going.
You have led your family and its descendents through the challenges of living a moral life into a time where ethics are truly a rarity. You taught us all the value of honesty, integrity and the importance of hard work. There isn’t one of us that doesn’t wear our moral code like a badge of honor. In many circles, the name Allen alone has come to mean trustworthy and that all came from you. It must be in the DNA.
You have modeled many things for me but the gift that is most in fashion today is your knowledge of the balance between earth, air and water. You are closer to the earth than anyone I’ve ever met. One of the most important lessons you have taught me is that Mother Nature always wins. Along with this you have also shown me the value of patience. You have always known that Iowa heat and humidity will eventually cool, the snow and ice will melt and the rain will come. It may not be on our timeframe but it will happen. We just have to learn to wait for it.
Yes, Grandpa you are my super hero. Given a choice between you and Superman, I will pick you every time. The gifts you continue to shower upon me are truly priceless. Much like the Allen family tree, my gratitude for you continues to grow in depth as well as breadth as the years go by. What I give in return is my undying love and respect.
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I found some sort of perverse humor in the fact that after I read this over I discovered that it somehow ended up being a 5 paragraph essay this year. My students will be so proud!

I love my bed

I am no longer a good sleeper. I used to be the 8 hours or else kind of girl but I guess menopause took care of that. I still need to be in bed for 8 hours but they are no longer all spent sleeping. It has been more than 2 years now since I got my new bed. I finally came to terms with the fact that I am single and there was no need for a double bed and furthermore my tiny 10 x 10 bedroom could use the extra space. So out went the futon in the extra room and in went the double. The extra room finally had a true identity as a guest room and I became the proud owner of a single bed.

Developing a relationship with a bed is very similar to one with new people. I often like then when I first meet them but then I begin to see the flaws. This bed I absolutely loved in the store. It was perfect, the bed I had been waiting for all my life. A few weeks later I wondered how I could have bought such a firm mattress. Was I out of my mind? Time passed and I just accepted my bed for what it was, a functional piece of furniture to provide me with my necessary sleep. It was fine. The past few months has been an especially challenging sleep period in my life. My mind races back in time to ancient Mesopotamians, Egyptians, Israelites, India Indians, you name it. I ponder ways to teach grammar to enhance writing. I think about our limited water supplies, the crappy financial condition of our country and the ridiculous people who are in government. How could anyone possibly sleep? So in these troubling times my bed and I have become much closer. I have learned the beauty of accepting support and in return my bed has begun to soften around the edges. I feel myself give into just being there, me and my bed. I love the feeling of being awake in the morning but not allowing myself to be a part of the world just quite yet. To think and ponder or plan out my day is such a gift. I am filled with the awareness that I am in the world but apart from it. I can take the time to observe from a distance the person I am in the world and plan the next step on the journey. I am thankful for my bed and the sleepless time that allows me to think my deep slow thoughts.

Ebbing and Flowing

I am once again beginning to surface for air. I just can't quite get my rhythm on a daily basis. Some days feel just perfect and then I'll have a day or two where I am working from the the time I get up until I go to bed. That is exactly what I did yesterday and that is not healthy. Most of it is because of all our afternoon meetings and most of those are for my new teachers. So I will leave school at 3:15, come back at 4:30, work for an hour or so and still have papers to correct after dinner. Block schedule is usually a catch up time because social studies is often something out of the ordinary. Today was one of my good days. I knew exactly what I was doing from the minute I stepped into my classroom. Perhaps it helps to teach first period rather than be swamped in lessons plans and piles of papers during my prep period. I love my first period prep but I think I would like it no matter when it was. It was block schedule for writing today. My writing classes go much better when I have 100 minutes. Then I can actually get in my spelling lesson without cramming everything in. So today I finally passed back their essays and during our early release time analyzed the winter assessments. The piles on my desk are gone so I think that means that I'm back in balance once again. It will be a pleasure to walk in the door tomorrow, look at my desk and actually see my desk.

Overwhelmed Again

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

America's Song

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.