A Prayer for Sandy Hook

I was going to write something about Christmas caroling this weekend. It's a great tradition, one my friends and I kept up for many years, in many neighborhoods, in two different states. I love it, even if I really shouldn't be singing outside the shower. Getting out of our comfort zones. Spreading "tidings of comfort and joy." It seemed like a great blog post.

Then Sandy Hook happened.

Suddenly a blog devoted to caroling seems trivial.

Instead, I can't stop thinking about those families. The families who lost children. The other families whose children saw things children should never see. The families of the teachers. The family of the principal. The family of the shooter - whose mother was also a victim - and who must also be devastated by his actions today.

Christmas 2012 is going to be hard for them.
In fact, every Christmas from now on will be hard for them.

So I'm praying for them.

Jesus, let the people of Newton find comfort in each other and in the compassion of caring people from around the world. Welcome the innocent children to your holy presence. As their neighbors and families cry, let them have friends to hold them, sit with them, dry their tears and cry with them. Wonderful Counselor, be their comfort in this time of deep darkness.
Be with the surviving children, as they sleep tonight, and keep the nightmares away. As they wake tomorrow, give them the courage to get up, go out, and begin putting their lives back together. Be with the teachers as they grieve for the lost. Give them the strength to face their fears. In January, fill students and teachers with the courage they will need to go back to school. Be with the parents, as they help their children process the unthinkable. Be with the parents as they face their own fears each time they leave for work or send their children to school.
Lord, none of this makes sense to any of us. It's so awful. We are all sad, angry, scared, and confused. Let us not cause more harm as we try to sort this out. Draw us to you. Guide us. Comfort us. Be with us. Be with Newton. Bring them comfort and, eventually, bring their joy back. And please, Lord, keep our children safe.
Amen.

1943-Norman Rockwell - "Freedom from Fear"

Time-OUT! (Mk 2:27)

A few weeks ago I made myself an outline of topics I wanted to write about for the next few weeks. My goal was to become more consistent, and to find a rhythm in my posting. I deliberately decided to ignore trickier issues like voice, relevance, and whether or not the world really needs another blogger. I enjoy writing, and I decided that it was my privilege to inflict my opinions on anyone crazy enough to read them. After all, if the title of this blog doesn't say "enter at your own risk," I think you  may want to revisit the definition of "insignificant."

So I have this outline. A to-do list, if you will.

This week was supposed to be about loving what you do. Burning the midnight oil. Having a passion for your job. It seemed like a good fit for a week that included parent-teacher conferences. I even got Jennie to make me some art! (Go, check out her website. She does some cool stuff).

I was right in theory. This week was exhausting. The midnight oil was burnt, refilled, and burnt again. I even wrote two posts about conferences earlier this week, just to vent. (Scroll down, they should be showing).

But now that the week is done, and I've survived, I'm not feeling very passionate about work. In fact, I'm feeling rather drained.

Which could be a problem, since the schedule says to write about passion.
Then again, maybe not. After all, true passion does leave us exhausted. Spent.
Perhaps because we are not able to live very long at that level of intensity. We have to have time to recharge. Reset.

God made us that way. He warned us to make time to rest. He specifically set aside one day in every week for unwinding. He even modeled it for us. "On the seventh day He rested." - Genesis 2:2.

I'm sure there's something God could have been doing that first Sabbath day. Something on His eternal to-do list. Something He could have been tweaking, improving, making better than "good." He did get right back to work on the 8th day, without an alarm clock or snooze alarm (though I'd like to believe He at least had some coffee!), because there was still plenty to be done.

That's the point, really. There's always more to be done. There's a huge gulf between "good enough" and "excellent." As much as I'd like to be excellent, all the time, at everything (and my mom will be happy to tell you I've always been that way), I'm learning that sometimes I have to accept "good enough."

So today's the day I'll rest and reset. I've already gone for a walk. I've read a book. I'm giving myself time and permission to just do whatever I want. Which will probably include folding the laundry and cleaning the kitchen, not because they are on some to-do list, or because they have to be done, but because having things clean and organized makes me feel rested.

Then tomorrow afternoon, when I take out my school-bag, I'll be able to feel the excited anticipation of renewed enthusiasm.

Thank you, Jesus, for reminding me of the real reason for the fourth commandment.

Then He said to them "The sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath."  -Mk2:27 (NIV)

conferring (part 2)

Well, hello there!

It's been a while since we first met on back-to-school night in August.

A lot has happened in the 11 school-weeks since.

We've worked hard on math, science, social studies, reading, writing, and all that other "stuff" we do each day. I'd love to tell you all about it, but we only have 20 minutes. So I'll spend that time focusing on whatever it is that really stands out for your child.

It might be the way he works so very hard each day. On everything. Neatly. I am so impressed.

It could be the way she seeks out opportunities to apply what were learning to everyday life.

I'm really quite excited about the way he makes connections between our lessons and his tv shows or video games, and I'm likely to tell you about that.  It shows he's listening and thinking!

I might tell you about how she assigns herself extra practice each night in her areas of weakness, and then corrects them herself in the morning. I enjoy the time she and I spend figuring out what kind of mistakes she made, because I know she will not make that same mistake next time.

I am really looking forward to this chance to share how your child welcomed a new student, or helped a struggler, or showed compassion for someone having a bad day.

Of course, it's also possible I may have to share something you don't want to hear.

I know it's hard for you to hear these things about your little angel. I realize it might not be the first time, and that you were hoping this year would be different. I understand. I really don't enjoy those moments, either.
I work very hard with your child to overcome any obstacles to his learning.
If I'm sharing a concern with you, please take me seriously.

When I say he struggles to pay attention, I really mean he needs several reminders per minute to stay on task.

When I say she tends to be a bit social, I mean that she's talking way too much in class. Her behavior is distracting others.

When I say he doesn't handle mistakes well, I mean that when I correct him for anything (behavior or academic) he crosses his arms and sulks, and is then unable to learn anything for the rest of the day.

I know you know exactly what I mean. I've only been working with your child for 11 weeks, after all. You've been there for 11 years.

So help me out. Don't take it personally. It's not about you.
It's about your little darling, and how we can, together, make this a great year!

One quarter down. Three to go. Let's make them count.

conferring (part 1)

Hi.
I'm so glad you could come to our fall conferences. I'm looking forward to this chance to discuss your child's progress in my class this far, and to set some goals for the rest of the year.

I would like to ask you a couple of favors.

1) Please be clear about which of your children we are discussing. That would be the one in my class. I'm sure your older/younger child/children are also cute. You probably have videos on your phone you'd like to share. However, this time is dedicated to one particular child. Let's honor that child with our full attention.

2) When I tell you that your child is giving excellent effort, but is still failing to meet the standard, please believe that I'm not sugar-coating. If junior wasn't giving excellent effort I would tell you. Do not tell him that you expect him to work harder, and to change from D's to A+'s in the next 7 weeks of school.  It's not likely to happen. Instead, let's talk about strategies we can all use to help him be more successful.

2b) Improving those grades will require hard work. There is no getting around it. I will help as much as I can, but you and your child will have to do your part. This may require longer homework/practice time and additional parent involvement. The change you want to see will not happen with LESS work. So please do not ask me to reduce the workload.

3) Math looks different now than it did when we were in school. I'll be happy to explain it to you. I'm not saying it is better this way - or that it was better before. We really don't have time to discuss this. It was not a decision I made.

4) When I tell you your child is struggling with communication...wait! Listen while I explain. I actually mean that she is not writing full answers to questions requiring explanations -in all subjects. I don't mean she interrupts. Sure, she might try to, but I don't tolerate that from my students. Of course, now I see where she gets it!

5) If your child is stressing out about something in my class, please come prepared to tell me. Don't make me drag it out of you. If I don't lead with that, chances are she is putting on a "game face" at school, and I don't see any of that angst. I can't help if I don't know.

6) Remember, I'm staying late for your convenience. Please be on time. Or call if you are delayed.

Thank you,
Your partner in education.

What being a Pirate taught me... (Prov. 2:4)

Last Friday marked the end of the first quarter of the 2012/2013 school year.

My teaching team and I decided to end on a bang.

5 of 7 teachers on my team, pirate-style! #6 was gone, and made it up the day she returned. #7... well...

We set aside the ordinary, and spent the day playing Pirates.

The kids still practiced the skills we've been working on. They reviewed an informational poster about pirates "then and now," and practiced their comparative skills. They read an article about deep-sea archaeology and practiced inferring. They "played" archaeologists and "dove" for artifacts which they used to deduce the origins, destination, and purpose of a ship "Captain Calamity" had sunk. They sequenced. They sorted. They read maps. They looked at slavery as a business, and made judgements. They evaluated risk vs. reward in deciding whether "Pirate Pete" should attack certain vessels. They used SMART cannons to review number-sense. They practiced dividing the booty and dealing with remainders. They explored the way water distorts light.  They dealt with issues of bullying and power; safety and responsibility; character and integrity.

They earned loot.

They laughed.

They had fun.

During our one-day adventure on the high-seas, my students worked harder and probably learned more than they had the rest of the week. And they loved it.

So did I. This is why I got into teaching. Because learning can be fun. Because facts ARE interesting. Because children need to be stretched, to grow and expand their world views, to learn to THINK through situations and actions.

Not to bore kids into submission.

Not to manage tests. 

Not to spend so much time on data collection and analysis that I don't have time to plan.

Not to be buried in unconnected curriculum designed to "help" students meet each of a hundred individual learning targets through "carefully designed, explicit instruction."

People who expect "carefully designed, explicit instruction," to be crafted for each one of the myriad skills students have to master, haven't listened to a child lately. Kids see the world differently. They desperately want things to connect. To make sense. 

Being a pirate for a day taught me that if we really want kids to learn, to enjoy learning, and to leave school with confidence, character, and competency, we may need some pirates to knock us off the course we've been sailing. There's treasure to be found.

Search for wisdom as if it were money. Hunt for it as if it were hidden treasure. Proverbs 2:4

Masks? (Prov. 22:6)

"Meaningless! Meaningless!" says the teacher. "Everything is meaningless!"                     -Ecclesiastes 12:8 (NIV)

Have you ever had one of those days? Those days when you feel like you just can't do one more thing? Manage one more bit of information? Answer one more question? Help one more person?

If you are a teacher, chances are you have.

I truly believe education creates opportunities and experiences that can change a young person's life. Among my literary heroes were Professor  and Mrs. Baer (and I'm super-happy to know of any of you who recognize that reference), who dedicated their lives to helping children overcome obstacles. On the other hand, my heart broke a little every time Tom and Huck cut school, believing the only opportunities that mattered were the ones they hunted up for themselves, away from the stodgy grown-ups determined to ruin all their fun.

Stodgy grown ups, with an agenda that doesn't seem to have anything to do with the things that really matter to kids. Who don't have time to find out what their children are interested in. Grown ups who think they have all the answers, even before they hear the questions.

Growing up, I had a few of those teachers; the ones you just know must hate school or hate children, or both, but - thankfully - I had more of the good ones. I had more teachers who loved school. I had more teachers who loved children. I had more teachers who made me believe that I could do anything, be anything, try anything. Because they believed in me, I learned to believe in myself. And I overcame obstacles. And I found opportunities. And I've enjoyed many rich and rewarding experiences.

Custom Image by
my good friend, Jennie Fairall

Including becoming a teacher.

I got into teaching to make a difference. Not to review data and prepare for tests. Not to spend hours and hours on charts for sorting and labeling children. Not for meetings and workshops and systems and protocols for giving tests, teaching to tests, writing tests, scoring tests.

Yet I spend almost as many hours on data as I do instruction. Especially when you subtract from instruction the time for health screenings (because more and more kids don't get regular medical/dental care), counselor lessons (for anti-bullying and anti-drug and anti-gang messages they might not be getting anywhere else), daily recess (because otherwise they might never move around), pictures, concerts, safety drills, regular meals, and the other "stuff" schools routinely provide as services to our children and our communities.

I don't mind, not exactly. As long as all of that extra "stuff" is designed to help my kids learn, grow, and succeed I'll do it. I might not love it, but I'll do it. I'll even smile. I'll let the kids believe it all matters, that I don't mind any of it. Because I know that every look I give, every sentence I write, every test I mark is part of their training. I have no way of knowing exactly what will stick for each little soul I touch. So I do my best to make it all matter, to let the children know they matter - to me, and to the world.

Teach children how they should live,
and they will remember it all of their lives.           -Proverbs 22:6 (GNT)

D-A-D-S. (Repost from father's day 2011).

Reposted in honor of my brother's first father's day.
You're turning out to be a pretty good dad, kiddo! Keep it up.  Your precious daughter is learning more than you can imagine, every day. 

___________________________________________________________________________

Today is the day we celebrate Dads.

Deciders

Answer-givers  

Dragon-slayers

Supporters

I remember when I was a kid there was a rustic, burnt-wood sign in our family room (suspiciously near the corner where I spent quality time when I was being 'lippy'  that said, "Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a daddy." At the time I thought it was just a cute play on words. As I grew up, I learned the real significance of that cheesy plaque.

Dads are the guys who stick around.

I've learned that dads are the real men. The men who make the hard choices. The men who put the needs of their children ahead of their own wants. The men who work extra hours to buy barbies and bycicles and prom dresses. The men who listen to endless stories about strange children and stranger tv shows. The men who teach their children to catch a ball, to drive, and to dance.

The men who are there.

As frustrating as it is for moms, it seems to be dad's praise that kids crave most. It's generally dad's approval they seek. It's dad's time that is most precious.



Perhaps that's because (for most of us) mom's love is a given. She is there. She is constant. She bore us. It's too easy to take her for granted (I'm not saying we should, but this is Father's day). Deep down, we all know dad had a choice.

Whether they know it or not, whether they accept it or not, whether we accept it or not, our dads represent our first impression of God, our heavenly Father.

Is it any wonder that some people turn from God, when their own fathers turn from them? That they fear God, when their own fathers hurt them? That they cannot trust God, because their own fathers betrayed them? This note is not for the rotten or evil dads. They are distortions; selfish shadows filling the world with hurt and hate. We don't celebrate them.

This is for the other ones. The ones who do the best they can. The ones we honor today.

The ones who teach us to see and hear God through the things they say and do.

Dad says "I want to hear your good news. I want to celebrate with you. I want to hug and high-five and shout when you succeed. I will cheer loudest at your victories and embarrass you with my joy."

Dad says "I want to be there for you during the hard times. I want to help you in any way I can. I want to fix everything so that you never have to suffer. Some things I cannot fix. I'm sorry - more sorry than you can know. But know that seeing you suffer hurts me, too."

Dad says "I want to keep you safe. I worry about you all the time. I will always protect you any way I can. And if the mean, ugly things of the world hurt you anyway, come to me. I will help you heal."

Dad says "No matter what you've done, I'm here. I'd give my life for you." 

 Dad says "I know there are things you cannot do. Let me help. I want to help."

Dad says "I want to give you everything you wish for. Sometimes I can't, but I want to. I want you to have it all. Anything I have - just ask."

Dad says "My greatest joy is seeing you. I love hearing your voice. I like seeing your face. Make room for me in your life."

Dad says "I love you, no matter what."

The card says: "Smile, 'cause Dad says so."

Thanks, dad(s) for being there. 

God is smiling on you. 

He likes what you're teaching us to hear.

(Repost) Wanderers!

I originally posted this in the summer of 2009 on facebook. Reposted because... well... summer's coming!

So...

If you know me well at all, then you know that I grew up in a family of wanderers. Nomads. Gypsies. Whatever you want to call it, we are a people who don't know how to stay put. If you don't know me well (yet), perhaps the easiest way to sum it up is to say I attended 10 schools from grade six through grade 12. I'm not an "army brat." I'm blue-collar, and proud of it. Mom's a waitress. Dad's in construction. We follow the work. Sometimes this requires a very "flexible" lifestyle.

From all that wandering, I learned some valuable lessons.

1) There is a correct way to load a moving van. There is also a correct way to drive one.
2) Home is people, not places.
3) Everywhere is somewhere. Enjoy it. Your life is someone else's vacation destination.
4) Keep a book handy. They don't need to be plugged in, charged up, or properly loaded. They don't interfere with other people's conversation. You decide when to "play." There is no time limit. If you loose one it's not the end of the world.
5) There is no thing you own that you cannot replace. Some are just harder to find than others. Searching for them can be fun, too.
6) Real friends keep in touch, even if only once-in-a-while.
7) You'd be surprised how far you can stretch $5 when you really need to.
8) A plan is helpful. Trusting in the plan makes all the difference.

I also learned that it's okay to take risks. Sometimes things don't go quite the way you'd hoped. That's frustrating. Annoying. Depressing. Ultimately, though, you will survive. You'll come out on the other side with another great story to tell.

This recession has been hard on construction. Waitresses, too. There hasn't been steady work for months, so it's time to move on. Time for a fresh start in a new place. Actually, not so new. They're heading back to the North East, where they both grew up. Because there hasn't been much work, they made a tough call to try to sell the furniture instead of moving it with them. I know how hard that decision was. A lot of it hasn't sold yet. That makes it even harder. There is no fairy godmother to turn the furniture into gasoline along the way. Still, they need to go, so they'll make do with what they've got. I believe they will be fine. They always are.

My folks are some of the bravest people I know. This year they turn 50. They've been together for 20+ years now. Some folks mark these milestones with roots firmly planted, branches spread, settled in to rest and survey a familiar landscape. Not my folks. They pack up. Pick up. Move out. Don't hesitate (much). Do what it takes.

That's what I want to be like when I'm 50.

BOLD.

Be Brave! (Phil 4:8)

I admit it. I'm rather excited for Disney/Pixar's newest film, Brave.
Not because I love animated films (though when I'm in the right mood, I do). Not because I'm a fan of Scotland (I'm not) or folklore (I am, but this isn't a familiar tale). Not even because it's got a spunky female lead (what movie doesn't these days?).
Nope.
I'm excited because the leading lady has frizzy red hair.
Yup. You read that right. I'm excited because of a cartoon girl's tangled tresses.

I'm not sure how copyright works here in the blogosphere, so I won't post a picture from the movie. Here's a link to the official website, though. 

You might not recognize it consciously, but this is a 21st century first. Sure...there have been some frizzy-headed characters in modern movies. Quite often they are the "before." Remember 2001's The Princess Diaries, or even Harry Potter (Hermione became quite polished, rather quickly). But as a rule, today's heroines are always sleek, no matter how improbable (think Hunger Games). Add to that the ever-present Pantene commercials, and what's a frizzy-headed girl to do?

Spend a ton of time and money trying to smooth out her God-given curls? Wear a hat?
According to the previews for Brave, the Princess' mother tries both approaches. They don't work.
Merida, the princess, is who she is, and she's not ashamed of it.

We need a little more of that confidence in our every day lives.
We also need to recognize and represent the diversity that makes the world so glorious. Ethnic and cultural, certainly. I'm well aware that the media has  a huge problem with that. But, I realized this weekend, we also need to glorify the diversity of style and personality. We are not made to be cookie cutter copies of some master template.

What would happen if we didn't buy the stereotypes? If we didn't think every woman should WANT to look like Jennifer Aniston or Halle Berry? If we didn't think all men should WANT to look like Bradley Cooper or Donald Driver? What if we were more interested in the secrets of a person's character than Victoria's Secret?

We live in a media-saturated world. Books, movies, music, tv shows, and advertisements are everywhere, and they are training us, whether we want them to or not. It's how our brains work.

We have to fight back. Meet real people. Do real things. Soak up reality. Let reality shape our perceptions.


Recognize the truth:

Christians aren't always preaching.
Dads aren't all clueless.
Moms aren't all polished, organized, and patient.
Teenagers aren't all irresponsible. Or beasts. Or totally sex-crazed.
Suburban house-wives aren't all (fit and glamorous) joggers.
Singles aren't all hanging out at bars.
Criminals aren't glamorous.

... and not everyone has perfect hair.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. -Philippians 4:8 (NIV)

A woman like... her!

There's a popular song on country-radio right now called "A Woman Like You," by Lee Brice. The fella in the song is teasing his wife, describing how different his life would be if he'd never met her. He shares his fantasies about football, fishing, and fried food. Check it out on CMT.com. It's actually quite funny.

What's that got to do with Mother's Day? Well, it's the inspiration for this post.

Look at your moms. Ask yourself, how would her life be different if she weren't your mom?

I can tell you.

She wouldn't have to wake-up early on weekends if she didn't want to. She could hang around the house in her pajamas, sipping and savoring her coffee, until she decided she WANTED to go out. She could read a book. She could sit in the garden that she planted. Or in her comfy chair in the livingroom she decorated lemon-yellow even if it isn't sensible. She could put her feet up. Relax.

When she's ready, she can throw on her "walking shoes," grab her mp3 player, and go for a walk in the park. No one to bundle up. No diaper-bags. No deadlines. No-one to rush back to. She might even stop off for a manicure, massage, or yard sale on the way.  If she gets hungry, she can grab lunch. Sushi? Sure. Salad? If she wants some. Or, having enjoyed a healthy walk, she might indulge in her guilty pleasure, fast food. Why not? There's no-one to set a good example for. Eating out, it turns out, is not too expensive - if you don't have to feed the kids. 

She doesn't always eat out, though. Her fridge is full of all of her favorite things. Fruit. Veggies. Salad dressing. Seafood. Steak. Chicken. Hummus. Yogurt. Cheese. A bottle of wine. There might be some frozen cookie dough in the freezer, between the tequila and the fancy ice-cream. The fridge isn't too full, though. Fresh food tastes best. So she shops by the week. 

Cooking is fun. She has all the high-quality tools to make it easy. There are no  little fingers to protect from the good knives or to keep the glass dishes away from. She can take her time and make tasty dishes. Asparagus is a regular feature in the spring, squash in the fall. There's no-one around to complain about it.

The decorations in her house reflect her taste and style. Carefully chosen over time, there's nothing tacky in sight. If she tires of something she can replace it. The same goes for her wardrobe. Her clothes are as fit and stylish and comfortable as she can find. She doesn't have to worry about sticky-fingers and sensible fabrics. 

She can go out on school nights. If she wants to go to a play or concert, she goes. She can find hobbies and take workshops without checking anyone's dance and soccer schedules. She can go to the movies without taking out a bank loan.  

She can also take off on a whim. She's free to explore the beach, the mountains. She can hike through a fort or explore a lighthouse. She can snuba or ski, hike or hang-glide. She can stay in a cheap campground that doesn't have a pool - or she can stay in a luxury hotel. She doesn't drive with an eye on the rearview mirror.  With a little planning, she can go to Italy. To Australia. Her vacation days get used for vacations not runny noses, field trips, or conferences. She has a travel budget, because she isn't saving for birthday parties, car insurance, proms, and college. It also turns out vacations are much more affordable when you only buy one ticket, and no mouse-ears.

If she chooses to stay home, she can watch DVD's, any time, no matter what they're rated - all the way through to the end. She doesn't have to fast-forward the scary parts or mute the loud ones unless she wants to. She can stay up until 11 watching prime-time TV. Or she could go to bed at 9. 

She generally sleeps through the night. No bellyaches or coughing fits disturb her rest. No nightmare-driven dwarfs burrow into her bed in the wee-hours.

It really *is* a good life. I know, because it's mine.
But you know what? I'd trade it in a minute for sticky-fingers, do-it-myself-facials, homemade art projects, budget stay-cations, and cheap, kid-friendly food.

So, next time you talk to your mom, remember... her life could have been much different.

You made her the woman she is today.

Happy Mother's Day.

Saturday Night: A Tale of Two Sisters

My sister's wedding (2011). Picture by Michelle Whitehead Photography.

My sister and I, both in our early thirties, both fun-loving, generally happy people, both went out last night. She had a date night. I went to a dinner party.

She tried on dresses and curled her hair. She wanted to wear something that her husband would really appreciate. I donned a costume, dramatic jewelry, and wrenched my hair into old-fashioned braids, just as certain that the details make all the difference.

She made sure the dogs took care of business, tidied up the house, loaded backpacks with clothes, toys, and (of course) the ipad in the car, before locking up and taking the kids to grandma's. I wrestled a carrying-box with soup and bread and cheese and bowls out the door, down the stairs, into the car, then ran upstairs to close and lock the door, thankful that I no longer have a cat named Frog who would have bolted out that open door or taken advantage of the mess I left in the kitchen.

I tried to figure out how to keep soup from sloshing all over my car while I drove. I just wanted there to be something left in the crock-pot when I arrived. She chatted with her kids and cranked up the tunes.

When she reached her destination, she had waiters eager to fulfill her every wish. My friends and I worked together to put the finishing touches on dinner, set the table, and serve each other the treats we'd so carefully prepared.

We talked about jobs and children and coming adventures.

After dinner we enjoyed some drama. My friends and I solved a murder-mystery set on the doomed Titanic. My sister and her husband went to see "Wrath of the Titans." I'm sure doom and  murder were involved.

I was home, in bed, before midnight. I think she was, too. 

The thing is... we both had a great time.

Yes, sometimes I wish I had her life - the kids, the dog (just one, though), the loving husband. I like to think that sometimes she envies the randomness that is mine. However different our lives are, though, we share a love for celebrating life, making the most of every little thing. I love that about us.

The Magic of Numbers

I teach humanities to middle-schoolers. That means I spend my days trying to make groups of about twenty-six 11 year-olds care about reading strategies, grammar, writing fluency, and history. If you've never done that, you should try it sometime. It's very ... entertaining.

I have to say though, that this weekend, it's math that is fascinating me. Specifically subtraction.You see, this week included one of my top-ten favorite days in the school year.The orchestra field trip.
Wait.
What?
Why does a reading teacher care about that? And what has a music field-trip to do with subtraction?

Well... let me explain.
At my school, all students take music. There are three choices - band, vocal, and orchestra. Since my students are the "babies" of the building (meaning it's their first year with us), they get to choose more freely, based on their interest and curiosity, not talent (or lack of). Which means they are pretty evenly split. Typically, about 1/3 of my class signs up for each musical discipline.

So, when the orchestra takes their annual field trip, I loose about 1/3 of my class for half the day.

Why is this a good thing?
Because of subtraction.
You see, in teaching, size really does matter.

With only 16 kids instead of 25 in my morning group, I was able to work with EVERY STUDENT IN THE ROOM for a few minutes that morning. Instead of trying to help a collective group of 11 year-olds extrapolate their personal struggles from a general lesson, I could get right to the issue and set each of them a task to help him/her move forward with what he/she needed. The kids who were "getting it," could work on enriching their understanding - and could check in with me if the going got too tough. The kids who weren't got more time with me to revisit and review the core concept. Even the kid who sometimes makes me want to crawl under a desk and hide learned something that morning.

He proved it, that afternoon, when the kids who were present in the morning got to "teach" the lesson to those orchestra kids who missed it (who caught up pretty easily because they were motivated). He was so proud of himself!

I think it was that student who prompted me to write this post. Because for him, even more than for me, size mattered. With a smaller class he got the attention he needed to actually learn something.

As citizens and voters, we need to remember that. One or two extra kids might not seem like a big deal, but they are. They add up quickly. That one kid who needed a little extra help? He might be yours.

"What's the motto with you?"

Mottos are funny things. You don't really choose them. They find you. Mine turned up on a ring I found in the clearance bin. A ring that just happened to fit my fat fingers, and was a style I like. Perfect.

It was also a perfect reminder of the mindset I'd decided to cultivate in this season of my life. Having finally recognized it was past time to stop wishing for things God clearly didn't want me to have yet (husband, children, a home with a view), I knew I needed to shift my focus to the life I actually have.


When I took the time to really look, I had to admit, the life I'm living is chock-full-o-blessings. I have a cute and roomy apartment in a wonderful suburban community. The kind of suburb that still has trees everywhere and no street lights. The kind that has apple-squeezes and Fourth of July parades and daddy-daughter dances at the community center. If I take a nice healthy walk, I can enjoy one of the best views around.

No, I'm not in the boonies, either. With my lovely car (another blessing, thankyouverymuch), and 20 minutes time, I can be just about anywhere. Work. Shopping. A variety of tasty restaurants. Movie theaters. Community theaters. Coffee shops (okay, those are less than 5 mins away - another blessing!).

I travel. That's something I'd have to do a lot less of if I had kids. I know, because my kid sister has 2 kids. I count them in my blessings, too. Even though they live on the other side of the country, I get to see them every year. Usually at a beach or pool. Joy!

My brother added another little blessing to the family last year. He's in a slightly different (though still far away) direction, so visiting him gives me a different vacation experience.

I have a steady job that I usually find pretty rewarding. In this day and age, that's a big blessing. I can pay my bills and still have a little "mad money" to play with. I know I should save more, and I'm working on that (but travel's just so much fun!). Even so, I don't feel stressed out, and that's a blessing.

My relationships are my biggest blessings, though. I get along well with my family. I have more good friends in my life today than many people have in a lifetime. My small-friends invite me to their birthday parties, school plays, concerts, and celebrations. We go ice-skating and do fun projects. Sometimes we even sneak off to McDonalds. My other friends (the grownups) like to have me over to rearrange their homes, cook (and eat) dinner, watch movies or tv, play stupid games (or dance to the wii!) and sometimes even solve a murder. I don't have to car-shop, eat out, or go to the movies alone unless I want to. I can borrow a cup of sugar (or a crock-pot) at just about any hour of the day or night. There's always somewhere to go, something to do, and someone to do it with. In fact, sometimes I have to schedule time home to do my laundry!

In short, I really do love the life I live. I just needed a little reminder.
A good motto will help you re-frame your world. Find one.