My son Kyle has an amazing friend, a true relationship with a person that I long to have someday. That person is God, and their relationship inspires me every day. Just the other day he came to me in the middle of the night. He said he asked God what to do, and God told him, "Just go get your mom." Then, yesterday he was riding his bike and hit a brick at the end of the drive way. He told me, "Mom, I think I hurt my bone to my penis (???), but don't worry, God is taping it up, and it will be all better."
Today was the first day of Bible School for my son. He has been talking about it, about how much God loves him, about how he can't wait to see his friends, about taking his Bible. He was so excited. We got him enrolled, entered the room with the other children, and then it happened. My son became an extension of me, clinging to my leg, my arm, my shoulder, anything he could for dear life. He was genuinely afraid; I could see it in his eyes, and it broke my heart.
I probably didn't handle it correctly. I told him if we went home, he had to go to his room. I was mad, frustrated, sad, embarrassed. I didn't understand what the big deal was - it was JUST Bible school. In my frustration, I hit the steering wheel with my hand. I had crossed a line. I was letting anger win. The other day I witnessed something from a spectator's viewpoint that I pray I never do as a parent. While taking a short walk to the post office, in the 11 blocks it takes to walk there and back, I heard two different families use the "F" word towards their small children. The "F" word was not used in conversation with other adults, it was used in a degrading, belligerent way TOWARDS their children: "Shut the "F-ing" door" and "Get on the "F-ing" porch". I was stunned, saddened, shocked. These two incidents have stuck with me. I have had students tell me that I am one of the nicest people they have ever met. I am not trying to pat myself on the back, but it is strange to me that more people in their lives are not nicer, that more people find it okay to use such hurtful and hate-filled words towards children of ANY age. Incidents like this are the reason why I try to be so nice. They don't need to hear negative words from me, and I knew that my son did not either.
I did not know how to handle the situation with Kyle, but I knew I didn't want to handle it with anger. You see, it is times like this, when I don't know how to handle my son that I know my husband will. (Apparently my eldest son and I are A LOT alike.) And he did. He talked to Kyle, and he listened to me cry because I felt I did not know how to parent my son in this situation without hurting his feelings. I want my son to tell me when he feels uncomfortable in a situation. I want my son to leave when he knows that something doesn't feel right. But I also want him to try. I want him to give his best in every situation. I want him to try new foods at least once, and introduce himself to new people. I think I want these things for him because I struggle with them so much too. It is painful to see my own struggles in my child. As for my second child, I fear he and I have a few things in common, too - mainly that he has never met a dessert he doesn't like.
Hours later I can reflect on today, and I know this: I don't have to know all of the answers because God does. I don't have to make every correct parenting decision because of God's grace and forgiveness, the same traits I try to teach my son. I do know that Satan is not some little red devil with horns and a pitchfork sitting near flames. He is a very real being who will use my own children against me when he feels they are getting closer to God. Today I did not have my armor on, ready to fight. But tomorrow, I will do my best because that is, after all, what I ask of my son. When someone asks me what my weapon of choice is, it is kindness. Kindness always wins.
Monday, June 8, 2015
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Yes, It's Personal
The actions coming out of Topeka regarding education in the State of Kansas are disheartening and quite frankly, it's personal.
It is personal because I think that fewer and fewer of those representing us or sending their children to us each day have any idea of what we, educators, do on a daily basis. Each year, fewer students are coming to school with the items they need for survival -- food, clothing, shelter, money, love, safety. I was talking with a few of my students the other day. Of those students, two had a parent commit suicide in the last two years; one has a father in prison; one is in the middle of an ugly divorce. My room is safe to them. It is where they show up if they need a hug, or to be disciplined, or to "rat" themselves out for making bad choices because they know I will find out. They come to me for food, for advice, for reassurance, and from time to time I get to teach them a little English. It is no wonder they struggle to learn. For many of our students, simply getting to school is the only battle they can win, and now that battle has become more difficult.
I had a young man sleeping in my seminar the other day. I usually go a "little" crazy when that happens, but something didn't seem right. I asked him if he was sick. He said that he was tired. The heater in his house had been broken for 2 nights, and it was 25 degrees inside. He needed to sleep. He needed to stay warm, so I let him rest for 20 minutes until the bell rang. I offered him extra clothes or a blanket. He, of course, declined, and I worried about him until I saw him the next day and he told me the furnace was fixed. It is no wonder why he struggles to learn.
I had a young lady who runs with the popular crowd come find me before lunch, even though I do not have her in class until later in the afternoon. She asked for a pop tart for lunch. The kids know I have food (bottom drawer, left hand side of my desk), and they know I will feed them. She appears to be well off, but from further discussion, has a family crisis that has drained all extra cash at the moment. She has been back twice for cheese crackers and more pop tarts.
These are the students that hurt the most when we cut education. Many of these students, who are already lacking in resources are going to struggle more and more each day. Many districts are going to cut activity busses that take students home safely from activities that give them a purpose. Many districts are going to cut teachers, so class sizes will continue to get larger. Many districts may have to cut art and music programs, and these programs have saved more of our creative students' lives than most will ever know. And many districts don't yet know how they are going to make those cuts without hurting children. So yeah, it's personal. (Edit 2016: now schools will close if funding is not adequate. This means no lunch programs, no sports, no school starting on time, no custodians or hourly workers will get paid - many districts do not truly know how this will effect their schools yet.)
I don't write about these instances to pat myself on the back or in search of compliments - walk into any effective teacher's classroom and he/she does the same thing day in and day out. We do it for the kids because we love our kids. So yes, when our funding gets cut, it's makes us mad. I am not mad because I won't get a raise (been there, done that, and I am still teaching); I am mad because once again kids are being hurt and we won't know the ramifications of these actions for years to come.
Anyone with any role in a child's education, whether you are a parent or grandparent, a bus driver, a cook, a custodian, a teacher, a counselor, an administrator, has to write those representing us. We have to let our voices be heard. Don't worry that you may have bad grammar or don't know the "ins and outs" of a particular bill. You don't have to write a 5-paragraph essay; a few sentences will do. LET YOUR REPRESENTATIVES KNOW YOU ARE A SUPPORTER OF EDUCATION. (Edit 2016: be respectful no matter your stance. Hatred and name calling will only hurt your cause. Use facts if you need them, but please be respectful.) If you know or love someone in education, you need to act now. They expect to hear from me; however, to make a difference, they must hear from you.
In case you need to find a way to contact your representatives:
Open States.org - Find Your Legislator
It is personal because I think that fewer and fewer of those representing us or sending their children to us each day have any idea of what we, educators, do on a daily basis. Each year, fewer students are coming to school with the items they need for survival -- food, clothing, shelter, money, love, safety. I was talking with a few of my students the other day. Of those students, two had a parent commit suicide in the last two years; one has a father in prison; one is in the middle of an ugly divorce. My room is safe to them. It is where they show up if they need a hug, or to be disciplined, or to "rat" themselves out for making bad choices because they know I will find out. They come to me for food, for advice, for reassurance, and from time to time I get to teach them a little English. It is no wonder they struggle to learn. For many of our students, simply getting to school is the only battle they can win, and now that battle has become more difficult.
I had a young man sleeping in my seminar the other day. I usually go a "little" crazy when that happens, but something didn't seem right. I asked him if he was sick. He said that he was tired. The heater in his house had been broken for 2 nights, and it was 25 degrees inside. He needed to sleep. He needed to stay warm, so I let him rest for 20 minutes until the bell rang. I offered him extra clothes or a blanket. He, of course, declined, and I worried about him until I saw him the next day and he told me the furnace was fixed. It is no wonder why he struggles to learn.
I had a young lady who runs with the popular crowd come find me before lunch, even though I do not have her in class until later in the afternoon. She asked for a pop tart for lunch. The kids know I have food (bottom drawer, left hand side of my desk), and they know I will feed them. She appears to be well off, but from further discussion, has a family crisis that has drained all extra cash at the moment. She has been back twice for cheese crackers and more pop tarts.
These are the students that hurt the most when we cut education. Many of these students, who are already lacking in resources are going to struggle more and more each day. Many districts are going to cut activity busses that take students home safely from activities that give them a purpose. Many districts are going to cut teachers, so class sizes will continue to get larger. Many districts may have to cut art and music programs, and these programs have saved more of our creative students' lives than most will ever know. And many districts don't yet know how they are going to make those cuts without hurting children. So yeah, it's personal. (Edit 2016: now schools will close if funding is not adequate. This means no lunch programs, no sports, no school starting on time, no custodians or hourly workers will get paid - many districts do not truly know how this will effect their schools yet.)
I don't write about these instances to pat myself on the back or in search of compliments - walk into any effective teacher's classroom and he/she does the same thing day in and day out. We do it for the kids because we love our kids. So yes, when our funding gets cut, it's makes us mad. I am not mad because I won't get a raise (been there, done that, and I am still teaching); I am mad because once again kids are being hurt and we won't know the ramifications of these actions for years to come.
Anyone with any role in a child's education, whether you are a parent or grandparent, a bus driver, a cook, a custodian, a teacher, a counselor, an administrator, has to write those representing us. We have to let our voices be heard. Don't worry that you may have bad grammar or don't know the "ins and outs" of a particular bill. You don't have to write a 5-paragraph essay; a few sentences will do. LET YOUR REPRESENTATIVES KNOW YOU ARE A SUPPORTER OF EDUCATION. (Edit 2016: be respectful no matter your stance. Hatred and name calling will only hurt your cause. Use facts if you need them, but please be respectful.) If you know or love someone in education, you need to act now. They expect to hear from me; however, to make a difference, they must hear from you.
In case you need to find a way to contact your representatives:
Open States.org - Find Your Legislator
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Pop Tarts
Today has been a tough day. I have found myself staring at the news, watching the events of Ferguson unfold with tears in my eyes. One man is dead. One man is forever changed. Families have lost their businesses. It is hate. Everything about this is hate. And anger. And bitterness. So much bitterness.
I am not here to debate politics, or race, or what my thoughts on this case are. I am saddened by it. I spend weeks each year teaching "To Kill a Mockingbird" which deals with so many issues that I am seeing today. Do you want to know my favorite aspect of this novel? It has nothing to do with race, or gender stereotypes, social class, or loss of childhood innocence. It is the simple fact that when the world is dangerous and scary, Jem and Scout always have a safe place to land -- Atticus.
This gets me thinking about how many of my students don't have an Atticus. Atticus is a man who values education. He values hard work. He, above all things, values doing what is right because at the end of the day he has to be able to look his children in the eye and know he stayed true to his beliefs.
His children are his life. His children are the reason that he fought a losing battle. His children are lucky to have such a man as a father.
Not all children are that lucky, and to be honest, from a teacher's standpoint, it sucks. The hardest part of my job is not being able to bring students home for a weekend. To show them family and make them home-cooked meals that we eat around the dinner table. To give them their own bed, a warm place to sleep, with clean sheets and their very own pillow. To make sure they have clean clothes, and a toothbrush, and toothpaste. There are so many things I wish I could show my students who are in need. But I can't. I only have 50 minutes a day to show them that someone cares. I have one shot to make my classroom a safe place. And I have one desk drawer full of pop tarts and crackers in case they are hungry. So, while it is not home-cooked meal, students know where to find pop tarts when they are hungry. And I suppose when you are hungry, pop tarts can taste homemade.
They know that in our classrooms they are safe and loved. These long breaks are tough. We teachers worry about our school kids. Some of our students leave the safety of the school for uncertainty and chaos when they go home, and they count the minutes until they are back in our classrooms.
If only I could bring them home. Even just for a weekend. But I can't. So when they get back, I will have pop tarts.
I am not here to debate politics, or race, or what my thoughts on this case are. I am saddened by it. I spend weeks each year teaching "To Kill a Mockingbird" which deals with so many issues that I am seeing today. Do you want to know my favorite aspect of this novel? It has nothing to do with race, or gender stereotypes, social class, or loss of childhood innocence. It is the simple fact that when the world is dangerous and scary, Jem and Scout always have a safe place to land -- Atticus.
This gets me thinking about how many of my students don't have an Atticus. Atticus is a man who values education. He values hard work. He, above all things, values doing what is right because at the end of the day he has to be able to look his children in the eye and know he stayed true to his beliefs.
His children are his life. His children are the reason that he fought a losing battle. His children are lucky to have such a man as a father.
Not all children are that lucky, and to be honest, from a teacher's standpoint, it sucks. The hardest part of my job is not being able to bring students home for a weekend. To show them family and make them home-cooked meals that we eat around the dinner table. To give them their own bed, a warm place to sleep, with clean sheets and their very own pillow. To make sure they have clean clothes, and a toothbrush, and toothpaste. There are so many things I wish I could show my students who are in need. But I can't. I only have 50 minutes a day to show them that someone cares. I have one shot to make my classroom a safe place. And I have one desk drawer full of pop tarts and crackers in case they are hungry. So, while it is not home-cooked meal, students know where to find pop tarts when they are hungry. And I suppose when you are hungry, pop tarts can taste homemade.
They know that in our classrooms they are safe and loved. These long breaks are tough. We teachers worry about our school kids. Some of our students leave the safety of the school for uncertainty and chaos when they go home, and they count the minutes until they are back in our classrooms.
If only I could bring them home. Even just for a weekend. But I can't. So when they get back, I will have pop tarts.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Work Boots and Big-Girl Panties
So today, I was subbing for a teacher who had a family emergency (don't worry, everything's ok), and I had the pleasure of sitting in on an AP Senior English class. Towards the end of the hour, one of them looked at me and asked if I had blogged lately. I have not. Guilty. But I told her of my latest idea, so now here it goes.
After teaching the short story, "Through the Tunnel" by Doris Lessing to my sophomores, I recently had my students create belief statements and action steps. Within this assignment, I wanted them to think of where they stood on issues in five areas of their lives: future, morals, relationships, friendships, and family. Many truly struggled with this assignment. I expected them to. But I wanted them to think. I wanted them to think about more than the next five minutes or what they were doing next Friday. I wanted them to take a stand. To feel proud. To feel strong. Afterall, if we don't write down our beliefs and goals, they are just really nice thoughts. And at the end of the day, we are the ones who have to live with ourselves. No one else has to sleep with our conscience but us.
Teenagers get a bad rap for being impulsive, for thinking with emotion and not logic. But honestly, aren't we all guilty of that? The only difference is that as adults, we tend to blame those decisions on our life circumstances, not immaturity. I wanted my students to think about these things, and to be quite honest, it all stems from an awful, horrible, no-good song I heard on the radio awhile back. It pains me to even give credit to the song, but it is simply that bad. The song is called "Habits" by Tove Lo. (I cannot even believe this song gets air time. Seriously.)
The chorus of the song states.
After teaching the short story, "Through the Tunnel" by Doris Lessing to my sophomores, I recently had my students create belief statements and action steps. Within this assignment, I wanted them to think of where they stood on issues in five areas of their lives: future, morals, relationships, friendships, and family. Many truly struggled with this assignment. I expected them to. But I wanted them to think. I wanted them to think about more than the next five minutes or what they were doing next Friday. I wanted them to take a stand. To feel proud. To feel strong. Afterall, if we don't write down our beliefs and goals, they are just really nice thoughts. And at the end of the day, we are the ones who have to live with ourselves. No one else has to sleep with our conscience but us.
Teenagers get a bad rap for being impulsive, for thinking with emotion and not logic. But honestly, aren't we all guilty of that? The only difference is that as adults, we tend to blame those decisions on our life circumstances, not immaturity. I wanted my students to think about these things, and to be quite honest, it all stems from an awful, horrible, no-good song I heard on the radio awhile back. It pains me to even give credit to the song, but it is simply that bad. The song is called "Habits" by Tove Lo. (I cannot even believe this song gets air time. Seriously.)
The chorus of the song states.
You're gone and I got to stay high
All the time to keep you off my mind, ooh ooh
High all the time to keep you off my mind, ooh ooh
Spend my days locked in a haze
Trying to forget you babe, I fall back down
Gotta stay high all my life to forget I'm missing you
All the time to keep you off my mind, ooh ooh
High all the time to keep you off my mind, ooh ooh
Spend my days locked in a haze
Trying to forget you babe, I fall back down
Gotta stay high all my life to forget I'm missing you
Again, SERIOUSLY??? This song is #5 on iTunes. And we wonder what is wrong with this world? I might add that really, those are the nicest lyrics of the entire song. So why do I bring this up? Because I hope that maybe, just maybe one of my students will think about what they stand for, and rise up, rise against the societal acceptance of drugs and alcohol and laziness. I hope that when they get into situations that cause them to make decisions, they can react with their heads and not with impulse. There is no decision in life that they will face that is better than them. There is no decision in life that they can't work through. They are smart, and they are driven. They need to know that sometimes in life, we just need to put on a good ol' pair of work boots and figure it out. The singer, Tove Lo, she just needs to pull up her big-girl panties and quit making excuses about life in a horrible song. We all have the chance to do great things. As Maya Angelou once said, "I can be changed by what happens to me, but I refuse to be reduced by it." It's all about choices.
That is all.
Friday, August 22, 2014
Hi. My Name is Sam, and I...
This week we were challenged by a great speaker (Joe Coles) to write down our "why". Why do we teach? Why do we do what we do? What keeps us coming back for more when things get tough. For me, this is two-fold. I could easily list names. I could list names of students who graduated and went on to do amazing things with their lives when the odds were stacked against them. I could list names of students who touched my heart with kindness, took time to say thank you, or even let me know that the appreciated the effort I put into teaching them. Students, after all, are the reason that any teacher teaches.
I have always wanted to teach. Teaching runs in my family. My grandpa was a teacher and administrator, as was my dad. My grandmother and aunt were teachers and librarians. My stepmom is a middle school teacher, and we all know that there is a special place in heaven for middle school teachers. Teaching is what I know. School was another home to me. But you see, I have a confession to make. My name is Sam, and in 8th grade I could not tell a subject from a verb. Shocking, I know. I could write a sentence, and it made sense, but I could not tell you what essential elements or parts of speech were used to do so. Everyone else in my class could. E.v.e.r.y.o.n.e.
So, "why" do I teach? Because I felt dumb. I felt dumb, but I was fortunate enough to have a crazy teacher named Ms. Jewell who loved what she did and loved us. She used fluorescent chalk to diagram sentences, and we all giggled when she turned to write on the board because she usually had two handprints on her butt from the chalk dust. She was loud. She gave major and minor quizzes that could make a grown man cry. She also knew I had no clue what I was doing. She knew that I would require a little extra time and extra patience. She also knew that I could do it. I spent hours after school in her room and in Mrs. McAtee's room drilling and killing subjects and verbs. And you know what? I did it. If I couldn't understand it one way, Ms. Jewell found another. By the end of the year, I could write a compound-complex sentence, and diagram it. By the end of the year, I was caught up with the rest of my class. She believed in me, and I realized that I wasn't dumb. (I might also add that she gave me my first-ever detention for...not doing my English homework...gasp!)
So "why" do I teach? Because I felt success. I felt success as a sophomore in Mr. Manes's class. I remember my parents coming home from parent-teacher conferences, you know back when parents went to conferences, and I remember my dad telling me that Mr. Manes said I had a knack for writing -- that it seemed to come natural. Me? The same person who couldn't tell a subject from a verb? Mr. Manes's class was fun. He was not your typical "English" teacher. He was a former football coach who loved Shakespeare and Medieval literature. He cracked us up with his corny jokes, praised us for a job well done, and called us out when we were acting stupid or lazy. (And I quote, "Well, you are either stupid or lazy, and you can't fix stupid, so which is it?) He unlocked the English language for me by teaching etymology, word parts and origins, and I began to see patterns within our own language that I never knew existed. Mr. Manes is the reason that I learned how to write essays. He made me write, rewrite, revise, and rewrite again. He pushed me to better. Heck, because of him I still remember that you should never start a sentence with a number -- missed that twice on my research paper, and it still stings a bit. He expected my best work, nothing less.
So why do I teach? Because these two teachers busted their tails for me, and I owe it to them to pay it forward. It's that simple. I teach so that maybe, just maybe, a few of my students feel a little less dumb and a little bit of success. I could not tell a subject from a verb, and now I teach it. Because of them.
(I might also add that I still have my 8th grade English notes in all their glory with the dividers and whole protectors - don't judge me. They are my Holy Grail of Grammar.)
__________
Also, if you feel like reading more, I have some pretty neat colleagues who blog: Andrew Bauer and Jason Kohls. Yeah, they're pretty neat.
I have always wanted to teach. Teaching runs in my family. My grandpa was a teacher and administrator, as was my dad. My grandmother and aunt were teachers and librarians. My stepmom is a middle school teacher, and we all know that there is a special place in heaven for middle school teachers. Teaching is what I know. School was another home to me. But you see, I have a confession to make. My name is Sam, and in 8th grade I could not tell a subject from a verb. Shocking, I know. I could write a sentence, and it made sense, but I could not tell you what essential elements or parts of speech were used to do so. Everyone else in my class could. E.v.e.r.y.o.n.e.
So, "why" do I teach? Because I felt dumb. I felt dumb, but I was fortunate enough to have a crazy teacher named Ms. Jewell who loved what she did and loved us. She used fluorescent chalk to diagram sentences, and we all giggled when she turned to write on the board because she usually had two handprints on her butt from the chalk dust. She was loud. She gave major and minor quizzes that could make a grown man cry. She also knew I had no clue what I was doing. She knew that I would require a little extra time and extra patience. She also knew that I could do it. I spent hours after school in her room and in Mrs. McAtee's room drilling and killing subjects and verbs. And you know what? I did it. If I couldn't understand it one way, Ms. Jewell found another. By the end of the year, I could write a compound-complex sentence, and diagram it. By the end of the year, I was caught up with the rest of my class. She believed in me, and I realized that I wasn't dumb. (I might also add that she gave me my first-ever detention for...not doing my English homework...gasp!)
So "why" do I teach? Because I felt success. I felt success as a sophomore in Mr. Manes's class. I remember my parents coming home from parent-teacher conferences, you know back when parents went to conferences, and I remember my dad telling me that Mr. Manes said I had a knack for writing -- that it seemed to come natural. Me? The same person who couldn't tell a subject from a verb? Mr. Manes's class was fun. He was not your typical "English" teacher. He was a former football coach who loved Shakespeare and Medieval literature. He cracked us up with his corny jokes, praised us for a job well done, and called us out when we were acting stupid or lazy. (And I quote, "Well, you are either stupid or lazy, and you can't fix stupid, so which is it?) He unlocked the English language for me by teaching etymology, word parts and origins, and I began to see patterns within our own language that I never knew existed. Mr. Manes is the reason that I learned how to write essays. He made me write, rewrite, revise, and rewrite again. He pushed me to better. Heck, because of him I still remember that you should never start a sentence with a number -- missed that twice on my research paper, and it still stings a bit. He expected my best work, nothing less.
So why do I teach? Because these two teachers busted their tails for me, and I owe it to them to pay it forward. It's that simple. I teach so that maybe, just maybe, a few of my students feel a little less dumb and a little bit of success. I could not tell a subject from a verb, and now I teach it. Because of them.
(I might also add that I still have my 8th grade English notes in all their glory with the dividers and whole protectors - don't judge me. They are my Holy Grail of Grammar.)
__________
Also, if you feel like reading more, I have some pretty neat colleagues who blog: Andrew Bauer and Jason Kohls. Yeah, they're pretty neat.
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Top 10 Lessons I Want My Children to Learn (Really All Children)
I've had writers block. I've been stuck. I feel like all I ever do is write about my kids, and while some day I will be glad I took the time to do so, I am currently in the longest summer of my professional life, at home, with two kids, so I want something fun and exciting to write about because I am starting to miss teaching. I mean no one wants to read about how my one-year-old beats up his older brother and already gets time-outs, and then laughs (we are in big trouble folks). Or how I loathe going to sleep because I know that one of them will be waking me up shortly. Or how my son tells me that I am the prettiest mommy ever. Sigh.
So, I tweeted about not having anything to write about. My friend and colleague Andrew Bauer also blogs. (You should read his blog. He's smart. And funny. And real.) He suggested I try a "Top 10" list. So here it is. And it does involve my children.
Top 10 Lessons I Want My Children to Learn (Really All Children):
10. Know the difference between there, they're and their. It's like I tell my students - there comes a time when ignorance is no longer bliss. There comes a time when you have to, as I tell my students, check your "give-a-crap-o-meter" and decide if you want to sound educated or stupid. You only get one first impression, so say it, write it, text it, tweet it correctly. People are watching and they are forming opinions about you based on what you say and do. The excuse, "I never can remember which to, two, or too is correct no longer works." For goodness sakes, you have a computer at your fingertips. Use it.
9. Get involved. You will get out of life what you give. You will find what you look for in others. Nothing chaps my hide more than hearing high school girls say, "I don't like high school girls because all they do is start drama." Usually a look in a mirror and some self-reflection points out that those who think there is drama are in the thick of it.
8. Love your siblings. Brothers and sisters are the link to our past and they will be with us long into the future if we are lucky. The older I get, the more important it is for me to be connected to my brothers and sister. I love what each of them brings to my life. My sister, she knows my soul. She is a mother and wife. I am a mother and wife. We "get" each other in ways that my brothers do not because, let's face it, they are boys. She was in the hospital room when my first son was born. She is the person I look forward to traveling with, to big cities, foreign countries. We shared a room together growing up, it only seems fitting to continue sharing hotel rooms and adventures as we get older. My brother Ben, well we have not always agreed. Divorce can do some horrible things to families at times, but it can also help us to see that family is what really matters. Ben and I have fought. We have cried. We have laughed so hard it hurt. He has given me "raindrops" until I can't breathe. But I'll tell you one thing, despite it all, I know he will be here for me any day, any time; all I have to do is call. My brother Bud - he has always been my constant supporter, and I his. He is always excited for me, happy for me, or even sad with me. I remember Bud going to games, even though he knew the chances that I (the resident bench-warmer) would play was slim to none. But he was there. He would play basketball left-handed to make it "even" for me because he knew that if the tables were turned, I would do the same for him. I am so blessed to have these three in my life. We are busy. We don't see each other often enough, but they are the link to my past and the hope for my future. Sons, you only have one brother. Love each other.
7. Find five really good friends. I was never the popular kid. I wasn't unpopular. I just...was. At times I really struggled with friendships, and I remember that my dad told me when I was his age, if I could count five really good friend, who would be there for me in a heartbeat and keep my secrets safe, then I was a lucky person. What is crazy is that I did not meet some of those people until I became an adult. It is important to take risks with your heart, to make new friends, to grieve the loss of friendships that fade away. But those special friends, those soul mates, hold on to them. Treat them like family because one day you will need them in ways that family cannot fill.
6. No one is going to die and leave you $1,000,000. This is another saying my dad used to tell me this ALL.OF.THE.TIME (I am not sure if you can see me banging my head against the wall or rolling my eyes which was my typical response when he said these words). I HATED THIS SAYING AS A CHILD, but boy was my dad ever right! I may not have much, but there is pride in knowing that I earned what I do have. No one has given me a "handout" or a free pass. I have never won the lottery. What I have done is taken opportunities that have been given to me. I have made sure that I keep all of my options open. One of the saddest realizations as a teacher is knowing that many students close the door on their life at 16-years-old before it was every really opened to them. I fight that battle every day - keep your doors open because sons; your mother is a teacher, and your father is a factory worker. We definitely won't die and leave you $1,000,000. You've got to earn it.
5. Eat dinner at the table. Our lives are going to be busy. Jam-packed. But we will make time for each other. We will eat as a family when time allows. We will pray together. Laugh together. Talk about our days' work.
4. Respect your body. That belly-button ring at 19 -- not so smart. The tattoo at 21 -- meh. The stretch marks after having 2 children, now those are some marks to be proud of. I am learning a little too late that I only have one body, and I must take care of it.
3. Fail miserably. It seems that more and more parents are afraid of this word -- failure. Sons, I want you to fail. In high school chemistry, I failed (and cried through) every test, just ask your Aunt Jen. I was so mad at the teacher because for once in my life the way I had always done things wasn't working. So I studied, I memorized, I called my teacher at home to ask questions. I spent 2 hours every Saturday retaking tests until I could EARN an A. And my parents, they let me fail. They let me fail because they knew that I understood that it was my job to take care of the problem. I knew that my parents had high expectations of me; however, my expectations for myself were higher. I want you to fail so that you know how bitter it tastes to lose and how sweet it is to win. Make mistakes, and learn from them. Only one man is perfect.
2. Know I love you. There is nothing that you can say or do that will make me not love you. I may want to wring your little neck, but I will love you. I may not always support your decisions, but I will love you. That's my job. Take some chances. Disagree with me. Make me proud. But know I will always love you.
1. Know that Jesus loves you. God sent His son to die for our sins. For us. But you see, the biggest misunderstanding about Jesus is that Jesus IS love. He loves us at our worst. Don't be fooled -- there are some ugly Christians out there, who judge and treat others poorly. Jesus, he loved others. So, love each other. Let others see Jesus's love through your actions. I pray that I can show you the kind of love that God has for us - one of discipline and one of grace.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
The Real Issue...Love.
First, let me say that I am a mom of two boys whom I love with all of my being. I would take a bullet or throw myself in front of a moving vehicle for them in a milli-second. That being said, I am not a stay-at-home-mom. I am a teacher. I love my job. I love my colleagues. I love my students. I love getting out of the house. I have the utmost respect for those who stay at home with their children every day and run their families. I get a taste of it every summer, and my plate is full this summer with an extended break (4 months due to the passing of a school bond issue *yay*!). Honestly, this long summer scares me.
I am a big-kid person. Little kids scare me. We are on week 2 of our summer break, and I am already bored at home -- let's be real...there is only so much cleaning a person can do, and my house has not been cleaned since Christmas Break. Therefore, I have spent time on Pinterest, Facebook, and blogs looking for some fun ideas to keep my boys (and myself) entertained. We go for walks, we play in the back yard, the front yard, we read, we make puzzles, we build train sets (which my youngest son likes to crawl over and destroy as soon as we are finished), we do science experiements. I have been researching ideas for my boys the same way that I look for new ideas for my students. You see, elementary and secondary teachers have an unspoken respect for each other and the age-level of students we work with each day - I am terrified in a roomful of kids under 13. Terrified. And middle-school teachers, well it just goes without saying that there is a special place in heaven reserved for those who teach 6th-8th graders. God bless them.
While researching for ideas to keep us entertained and learning, I keep running across posts on Facebook about the Common Core Standards. According to the internet, many valid questions are being raised (*insert sarcastic tone before reading these questions*) Did you know that they, the union-thugs and overpaid teachers are "brainwashing our students"? Did you know that this is "Obama's attempt to re-write history"? Did you know that we are "dumbing down" curriculum? Did you know that those same "overpaid teachers" are only supporting this because they want the funding that comes with it to pad their own pockets?
GET REAL! How many people who are re-posting this garbage online have ACTUALLY READ THE STANDARDS??? I can tell you the answer: slim to none. Why? Because standards are BORING. It is much more fun to read politically driven Facebook posts with no research or data to back them up. For once, teachers and educators helped to create something we are using in schools - not just businessmen and politicians. The teachers in my district, including myself, have spent years, YEARS, studying these standards. We began studying them before they were even officially adopted. These standards are good! They are solid. They DO NOT dictate how things are taught. Most of the controversial practices you read about are district-level initiatives or they are found in poorly written text-books that school boards have approved.
Heck, the Common Core Standards even give us more freedom to teach great information and actually TEACH it until students have learned it - not just for a test. They cause students to write, to explain what they've learned in all areas. Our history department works with our English department so that we use similar terms in research. I even helped a science teacher grade her research papers - she graded for content, and I graded for MLA. Why? Because her students worked much harder once they knew that an "English" teacher was going to check their work. Students are beginning to understand that a paragraph in band, yes, I said band (our band is writing, too), is the same as it is in English. The Common Core Standards make students think, and their teachers, we love to see those wheels turn and light bulbs flash on -- it's what we live for.
What really upsets me, however, is not the debate about Common Core, what upsets me is that the real issue in the decline in education goes unspoken -- our children are in need. What do they need? They need families. They need stability. They need love.
Why do we see a decline in student learning even though funding is "higher" than ever? Let me give you a few examples.
Student A: This student went to a sports competition and then went out to eat with her foster family. While at this restaurant, she was able to see a sister who she had not seen in years because their family was split apart due to her parents' drug problems. She has siblings that she has never met. She does not know if/ when she will see them again. Luckily, she is with a family that loves her, but what about her siblings? It's no wonder why she struggles to learn at her full potential.
Student B: This student has been shipped back and forth between his parents in an ugly-divorce dispute. Once dad is tired of him, he goes to mom. Once mom is tired of him, he goes to a friend's house. What happens when his friend's parents decide they've had enough? I can only imagine his thoughts, because three of his teachers spent serious time talking about who could give him a safe place to live should this happen. He is 18, so he is out of options for help from government agencies, but since he is an "adult" he should be able to fend for himself. It's no wonder why he struggles to learn at his full potential.
Student C: This student can't stay awake in class. She is tired -- sleep-through-the-bell-ringing tired. We work out a deal: she sleeps in class, she comes in to make up the time (so that I can re-teach her and feed her). It is at this time that I learn why she is tired; she is her mom's designated driver 2-3 times a week. Mom goes to the bar, and at 2 a.m. she calls her daughter to pick her up. No laws are being broken. The daughter is old enough to drive, and to be home alone. The mom is re-living her "lost teenage years" because she gave birth to her daughter while she was still in high school. It's no wonder why her daughter struggles to learn at her full potential.
The decline in America's family -- THIS IS THE REAL ISSUE! Many of our students (sadly more and more each year) are in need. They need parents who love them. Parents who fight for them, yet hold them accountable. Parents who are their biggest fans. They need food, safety, and shelter. We teachers give them what we can, but we can never take the place of parents who put their children's needs before their own. We worry and pray feverishly for our students over long breaks, especially summer break, because we know many of them will spend months away from the one safe place they know.
Being a parent is by far the toughest thing I have ever done. I have never been so tired (not even while teaching and completing my master's degree). There are no "manuals" that come with babies when they leave the hospital. So, I read. I learn. Quite honestly, most days I have no clue what I am doing. I try my best to be a good mom.
As a mom, it makes me sad when I see my students in need. I want them to be successful. I want them to learn. I want them to break the cycle. I know that education is the only way that they can break it. And as I sit and read a story to my son for the 7th time in-a-row (*yawn*), my heart hurts for my students who have never known this type of love and attention, for whatever reason. Many of my students tell me their parents have NEVER read to them. Never. Many of my students are the "parents" in their households. My students are tough, resilient, inspiring.
It is time that America quits hiding behind issues like the Common Core and blaming it for the lack of learning in classrooms and the future downfall of our country. It is time to have some uncomfortable conversations about what our children need. If you ask a teacher about his/her students in need, you will see real heart-ache. You will see raw emotion. You will see love. We love our students, our "kids", but we are not enough. Our kids are hungry for a purpose in life. Our kids need love - then they can learn.
I am a big-kid person. Little kids scare me. We are on week 2 of our summer break, and I am already bored at home -- let's be real...there is only so much cleaning a person can do, and my house has not been cleaned since Christmas Break. Therefore, I have spent time on Pinterest, Facebook, and blogs looking for some fun ideas to keep my boys (and myself) entertained. We go for walks, we play in the back yard, the front yard, we read, we make puzzles, we build train sets (which my youngest son likes to crawl over and destroy as soon as we are finished), we do science experiements. I have been researching ideas for my boys the same way that I look for new ideas for my students. You see, elementary and secondary teachers have an unspoken respect for each other and the age-level of students we work with each day - I am terrified in a roomful of kids under 13. Terrified. And middle-school teachers, well it just goes without saying that there is a special place in heaven reserved for those who teach 6th-8th graders. God bless them.
While researching for ideas to keep us entertained and learning, I keep running across posts on Facebook about the Common Core Standards. According to the internet, many valid questions are being raised (*insert sarcastic tone before reading these questions*) Did you know that they, the union-thugs and overpaid teachers are "brainwashing our students"? Did you know that this is "Obama's attempt to re-write history"? Did you know that we are "dumbing down" curriculum? Did you know that those same "overpaid teachers" are only supporting this because they want the funding that comes with it to pad their own pockets?
GET REAL! How many people who are re-posting this garbage online have ACTUALLY READ THE STANDARDS??? I can tell you the answer: slim to none. Why? Because standards are BORING. It is much more fun to read politically driven Facebook posts with no research or data to back them up. For once, teachers and educators helped to create something we are using in schools - not just businessmen and politicians. The teachers in my district, including myself, have spent years, YEARS, studying these standards. We began studying them before they were even officially adopted. These standards are good! They are solid. They DO NOT dictate how things are taught. Most of the controversial practices you read about are district-level initiatives or they are found in poorly written text-books that school boards have approved.
Heck, the Common Core Standards even give us more freedom to teach great information and actually TEACH it until students have learned it - not just for a test. They cause students to write, to explain what they've learned in all areas. Our history department works with our English department so that we use similar terms in research. I even helped a science teacher grade her research papers - she graded for content, and I graded for MLA. Why? Because her students worked much harder once they knew that an "English" teacher was going to check their work. Students are beginning to understand that a paragraph in band, yes, I said band (our band is writing, too), is the same as it is in English. The Common Core Standards make students think, and their teachers, we love to see those wheels turn and light bulbs flash on -- it's what we live for.
What really upsets me, however, is not the debate about Common Core, what upsets me is that the real issue in the decline in education goes unspoken -- our children are in need. What do they need? They need families. They need stability. They need love.
Why do we see a decline in student learning even though funding is "higher" than ever? Let me give you a few examples.
Student A: This student went to a sports competition and then went out to eat with her foster family. While at this restaurant, she was able to see a sister who she had not seen in years because their family was split apart due to her parents' drug problems. She has siblings that she has never met. She does not know if/ when she will see them again. Luckily, she is with a family that loves her, but what about her siblings? It's no wonder why she struggles to learn at her full potential.
Student B: This student has been shipped back and forth between his parents in an ugly-divorce dispute. Once dad is tired of him, he goes to mom. Once mom is tired of him, he goes to a friend's house. What happens when his friend's parents decide they've had enough? I can only imagine his thoughts, because three of his teachers spent serious time talking about who could give him a safe place to live should this happen. He is 18, so he is out of options for help from government agencies, but since he is an "adult" he should be able to fend for himself. It's no wonder why he struggles to learn at his full potential.
Student C: This student can't stay awake in class. She is tired -- sleep-through-the-bell-ringing tired. We work out a deal: she sleeps in class, she comes in to make up the time (so that I can re-teach her and feed her). It is at this time that I learn why she is tired; she is her mom's designated driver 2-3 times a week. Mom goes to the bar, and at 2 a.m. she calls her daughter to pick her up. No laws are being broken. The daughter is old enough to drive, and to be home alone. The mom is re-living her "lost teenage years" because she gave birth to her daughter while she was still in high school. It's no wonder why her daughter struggles to learn at her full potential.
The decline in America's family -- THIS IS THE REAL ISSUE! Many of our students (sadly more and more each year) are in need. They need parents who love them. Parents who fight for them, yet hold them accountable. Parents who are their biggest fans. They need food, safety, and shelter. We teachers give them what we can, but we can never take the place of parents who put their children's needs before their own. We worry and pray feverishly for our students over long breaks, especially summer break, because we know many of them will spend months away from the one safe place they know.
Being a parent is by far the toughest thing I have ever done. I have never been so tired (not even while teaching and completing my master's degree). There are no "manuals" that come with babies when they leave the hospital. So, I read. I learn. Quite honestly, most days I have no clue what I am doing. I try my best to be a good mom.
As a mom, it makes me sad when I see my students in need. I want them to be successful. I want them to learn. I want them to break the cycle. I know that education is the only way that they can break it. And as I sit and read a story to my son for the 7th time in-a-row (*yawn*), my heart hurts for my students who have never known this type of love and attention, for whatever reason. Many of my students tell me their parents have NEVER read to them. Never. Many of my students are the "parents" in their households. My students are tough, resilient, inspiring.
It is time that America quits hiding behind issues like the Common Core and blaming it for the lack of learning in classrooms and the future downfall of our country. It is time to have some uncomfortable conversations about what our children need. If you ask a teacher about his/her students in need, you will see real heart-ache. You will see raw emotion. You will see love. We love our students, our "kids", but we are not enough. Our kids are hungry for a purpose in life. Our kids need love - then they can learn.
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