Student Reflections

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Play Dates and Pixie Dust Brighten Abuela's Week

By ANA VECIANA-SUAREZ

aveciana@MiamiHerald.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I Don't Really Think of Myelf as Adventurous

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

Superman?

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

The Thing About Teaching

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

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

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

Sweet!

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

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

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

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

And, finally, the A+ paper...

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

The Slump

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

Not That Kind of Grandma

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

My Life's Work

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

Summer to School

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

Gardening with Joan

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

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

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

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

School Is In The Air

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

Alaska

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



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

Brithday Gratitude

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

Blessing Callie - Final Version

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

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

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

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

Blessing Callie - Version 1 (too long)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Going "Home"

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

Crossing a Line

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

Rejuvenated

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

A Letter to My Former Self

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

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

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

The End

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