{these moments}

So I missed last week's moment. I took the picture, I just didn't post it. So here is a word filled look back through the last few weeks. I'm entitling this montage "Mother Nature's Hot Flash".

March 23: For the record, this pile of snow didn't melt last year until May.  

March 27: The blooming trees and little birdies aren't happy, either.

March 31: 1"-3" of snow predicted for tomorrow night. And lingering snowbanks in May are, once again, looking like a distinct possibility...

{this moment}

I can't even pretend to follow the {no words} rules this week.

What do you think is going on to draw such a crowd? You'd look at this shot and think it was an awards banquet or speech contest. Would you ever in a million years guess school board meeting? That was what I thought, too, as I walked into our gym. Hundreds of people-- best guess is 600-- showed up for a school board meeting to express our love and concern for our schools. Six hundred people came to a school board meeting. As a government teacher, I was pretty pumped. As a community member, I was encouraged. As a teacher at this school, I was overwhelmed.

This meeting has caused hard feelings on all sides of the issue, and that makes me incredibly sad. For me, this hasn't been about 'us vs. them' in the least-- and it is bad for all of us that that is what it's becoming. But I want the same thing for the neighboring high school and it's students that I want for ours: local control and all the benefits that come from small schools. Research supports it, but our proof is in the graduates. Both of our schools have sent kids off to top notch colleges, ready for the challenges their futures hold. We've sent kids who were considered 'at risk' for not graduating into the community college system with their high school diplomas in hand. We both do very good things, and that has benefited all of us. To me, a potential budget savings of only 1/15th of the shortfall is just not worth risking losing our small schools. Our budget it tight, there's no doubt about it: but a proposal such as this should be the last option, brought forth after all other options have been implemented. Closing schools and/or reconfiguring them damages the community as a whole in so many ways, and much of that impact continues on for decades after the event. The pros have to significantly outweigh the cons, and I dont' think they do for us right now.

I lost my community district 6 years ago, and I regret voting for that merger every day. My kids are still getting a solid education, but some of what we lost can't be easily measured or documented. There was a solid safety net under all of our kids; when they graduated from our k-8 district (one campus with one class per grade level) they went onto high school with confidence in themselves, an ability to get along with anyone, and a depth of creativity to 'make it work' in any situation. They had years of practice on all those skills, and we always had students in the Top Ten from each high school to which we tuitioned kids, which shows their academic skills got some use, too. When we merged in with our current district, I watched some of those opportunities fade away as we we exposed to more tangible ones: my children may now have tech ed and IA opportunities, but I'd trade those in a heartbeat for them to have the opportunity to truly learn to accept their classmate's strengths and weaknesses. Those kinds of skills take you far in life, no matter what you choose to do or where you choose to live. What we gained in that merger does not even come close to equaling what we lost.

Regardless of how you fall on this issue, you can't deny that people in this community care about our education system. I think more people came to this board meeting than voted in the last gubernatorial election. No matter what else you think or feel about this topic, those numbers are impressive. If we can harness that energy into positive action, imagine how amazing our schools could become...

{this moment}

I have some pretty amazing friends...
Thank you <3

where my heart lies

I came to town in 1992, fresh out of college. A first year teacher, I really had no idea what I was in for at my small, independent, k-8 district: I thought I was going to work, but what I was really doing was becoming part of a family.

I had an apartment in the neighboring town, along the route to the high school. The first time I saw cardboard signs lining the streets with all the kids participating in a band competition, I knew I'd found home.  Parents line these telephone poles every time kids make it to playoffs. Every. Time. I'd never seen such public support before. Sure, my class A high school celebrated within the halls, but it never stretched into people having no connection to the team. It didn't take me long to discover that my community believed in it's schools. 

I came here because of a job, but I stayed because it became my life. I have lived, worked, cried, and celebrated with my friends, colleagues, and neighbors. I got married here, became a parent, and bought a house in my small district because I knew my kids would not only get  a quality education but would also grow up surrounded by people who care for them. And now the school board is discussing closing my school down, and combining it with an equally small and unique district up the river.

This plan is not good for my kids, or my sunshines, or many of the students in either community. It will not save the kind of money that the budget needs to save to justify this level of upheaval on students. I can't support it emotionally, and I can't support it rationally. I don't deny that something needs to give, but it shouldn't be the students that give up the most.

{this moment}

fear and accomplishment

These days I seem to be surrounded by far flung travelers. My dear friends are living and teaching in South Korea this year, and my baby sis has been in Bejing teaching for the last two. Me? Well, I'm sorta proud of myself for flying 2/3 of the way across country. It's all relative...

I hate traveling. I really do. There are so many factors beyond my control... I dislike being a captive audience in airports and confined to small spaces in airplanes. I don't like sitting next to strangers and feeling like I have to lock myself in a tight little box so I don't disturb the person assigned to the seat next to me. There's never any food I want and what is there is insanely expensive. And then, there's the fear of crashing.

I forget how much I hate it, though, until I've finished the trip. I knew this one would be tough because I was leaving my men at home. Flying is expensive; it turns out that it is insanely so during February vacation, and there was just no way we could afford to have us all go. The internet and cell phones make it pretty easy to stay in constant conversation with the boys back home... but when we landed in Portland, and I knew they were just outside... well, I got kind of choked up. We'd made it there and back again, and now we were back to the way life should be. And we'd made it.

Those of you who fly all over the world may not think of it as an accomplishment, and truthfully, it's really not. But each time I do something like this without WB beside me, I prove to myself yet again that I can do it. As much as I hate traveling, I hate solitude more. It sounds cheesy, but I am a better person with my husband around. He completes me, and calms me, and has strengths that I don't. And it's not so scary to get stranded in an airport (cough* Dulles, you suck!* cough) when my whole family is with me. But de-icing at 9:30 PM, halfway between my home and my sister's, with only my daughter to keep me calm? Getting through that was a big deal for me.

I will probably never be able to visit my sister in her far flung locales (unless WB drugs me, serioulsy), and I will probably never teach anywhere but here. But we measure success by what we are each capable of doing, and I am sometimes capable of more than I give myself credit. And it is good to be reminded of that every now and again.

{these moments}

MCP 2012: February

Month 2: Love or Leap

Here's my oldest, skiing his heart out in his final middle school race. He came down with a terrible cold, so he didn't have the sort of finish he'd wanted... but we were all there cheering him on, because that's what you do when love someone. His darling girlfriend and her mom were there too. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.

graduates

It is never easy to graduate out of sequence. As much as people want their diploma, coming back after all your friends have finished is tough. These two sucked it up, though, and did it. It wasn't the prettiest ride into the homestretch... and the ceremony itself was a bit hindered by my recent medical issues... but they got it done. And at the end of the day, it doesn't matter how long it took you to get your diploma, but that you did it. And they did.

{this moment}

No words, I know... but I am pretty proud of this girl. Not sure if that translates through in this picture, but it's true.

sick... or sickly?

I've been thinking about your medical stories all week. I had no idea you'd dealt with so much!

My dear mother in law said this, or something similar, when I talked to her after my gallbladder surgery. She came to spend the day with me after the ovarian cyst surgery (I hate that I have to differentiate between recent surgeries, but I digress) and said something about my medical knowledge. "Well, I've been doing this since I was 6..."

When I tell the story, I guess I really have spent a bit of time with the medical community. Upper GI series at 6...black fly/mosquito allergy shots... two separate times in isolation on med/surg, at 8 and again at 10, for an unknown cause of gastroenteritis... blind spot in my left eye  at 11, caused by a burst blood vessel leaving scar tissue... strep and bronchitis and sinusitis annually, if I was lucky--bi or tri if not... mono...endometriosis and related fertility issues... bunion surgery... and now this. It's a wonder I didn't end up a nurse, if you really think about it.

But I don't think of myself as sickly. I mean, I was, I guess, but that's not how I see myself. Sure, I'd catch everything that came by, but I just kept on going. I just thought that was how life was... mostly healthy, with a few bad sicknesses thrown in for perspective. Who knew that was not everyone's experience?

Fast forward to today. I'm sitting here on another sick day, wishing I could just go to work already. I feel another cold coming on, which could be a big deal since I really can't cough effectively; I do NOT want to add pneumonia to my list of experiences. And I'm thinking about my MIL's comment... WB has never had strep! I had it so often I could tell the doc before the test came back whether it would be positive or not based on how I felt after the giant Q-tip. He's had a couple of surgeries, sure, but all in all he is one of the healthiest people I know. It's no wonder she is overwhelmed by my litany of sicknesses.

And frankly, I'm kind of overwhelmed right now, too. Thank heavens the kids lean closer to his constitution than mine.

when you care enough to send the very best

The last few weeks have been a lot of things. Overwhelming. Painful. Emotionally exhausting. But they have definitely been humbling. I have no need to ever repeat the fast paced trip through varied surgical procedures, but I am thankful for the outpouring of love that said trip has brought.

I try pretty hard to be the person bringing a meal to people when they need it. I do it because... well, because it's what you do. I find comfort in sharing food, and it becomes the way to tell someone they are on my mind and their hard time is not something they have to endure alone. But to be the recipient of that kindness, over and over again... wow. We've had so many people stop by with dinner... dessert... to not only bring food but to also spend some time making sure we (well, ok, I) are ok. So many others have offered to bring food if we need it. To say I feel well cared for is certainly an understatement.

But yesterday, I received a card in the mail. It was sent by one of the Sunnies... and she got the whole class to sign it. And there, on print, was proof: proof that my job is more than a job, and proof that I am succeeding at it. I set out to teach my students about more than math and proper grammar; I want them to learn to be successful in this world. And reaching out to someone who has undergone a medical procedure... never mind the second in as many weeks... is part of how we define success.

My darling Sunshines work very hard to keep people and arms length. Usually they do a pretty good job. But I am lucky enough to be allowed behind the curtain, for which I am forever grateful. My life has been enriched by all of them letting me into theirs. I knew this before surgery-- but that card... well, it shows it in a way that everyone can see.

I will never look like a high achieving teacher-- I don't care about test scores even a little bit, and just don't give the kind of time to teaching kids to pass high stakes testing as I'd need to do look like a national teacher leader. Frankly, I don't want to be that kind of teacher. But I know I am really good at being the kind of teacher who loves going to work and spending her days with a bunch of teenagers. Who loves to laugh with them and celebrate their successes with them and push them to become the kind of adults they want to be. And the kind of teacher who will hang a card like this in her classroom until she retires.

Which, since we're telling the truth here, is the kind of teacher I want my own kids to have. Without the back to back abdominal surgeries. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

a tale of two surgeries

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.

Actually, it was just the worst of times. The last 3 weeks have been medically eventful and a pretty big downer, to tell the truth. And while I am thankful that both situations were treatable and did not come with long term medical drama, it would have been nice to skip one, or both, of the procedures.

The cyst was sudden. It had been growing for awhile-- I don't know how long, but my suspicion is 6 or 7 months. I was fine, and then I had a small pain in my side. And then the pain was bigger, and then overwhelming, and then insurmountable. By then we were in the ER, and I was on mind altering medicines to try to deal with said pain. Being told I needed to switch hospitals was more frightening than being told I needed surgery. By the time she introduced herself and said she was going in, I had already figured it out. (They don't send you to a neighboring hospital for an ultrasound unless they are pretty sure you need serious interventions.) I had a grand total of 3 hours to think about it-- while still on said mind altering drugs. Was I nervous? In theory I knew I should be, but the morphine said otherwise. And so I flew down the Road to Surgery, no lines, no waiting, and no worry.

This time, however, I knew. From the day after the first surgery, I knew it was coming. I kind of wish the kind radiologist who reviewed my films (pixels?) hadn't called to tell me what was happening, because I quickly learned there was only one cure for an afflicted gallbladder, and it wasn't drugs.

At first I didn't think I'd had any symptoms, so I tried to forget about it. The more I felt like eating, though, the less good I felt. It came to a head when I almost threw up after eating lunch-- a sudden, holy crap, I-am-not-ok moment. A call to the doc confirmed what I was pretending not to know: my gallbladder was not long for this world.

Four days of waiting to meet the second surgeon; three days of waiting for the now scheduled surgery. Seven days of knowing it was coming. Thinking about what could go wrong. Worrying about being couch bound again. I still wasn't completely healed from the first surgery, and I was prepping for a second. To say my defenses were down is an understatement. And yet, the thought of waiting until I was in pain again... the potential emergency room trip... nope, I'll take the scheduled procedure and be grateful.

It also turns out that lower abdominal surgery on your reproductive system and upper abdominal surgery on your digestive system are very different procedures. Both were done laproscopically, which means significantly shorter healing times, but most of the similarities end there. I am healing very differently from the second go-round. I am less hungry, probably because my digestion is affected. I hurt more-- which could be from the position of the incisions... or because I just did this 18 days ago and I'm over it. Either way, I'm happy to say it's getting better. I would imagine I'll be solely on Advil by tomorrow, and I still hope to be back at work by the end of the week.

I can tell you one thing; I don't need to this again, any time soon. That foot of mine is just going to have to wait.

{this moment}

knowing is not doing

I've always been active. All through school I took a full load of classes, avoided study halls because they were boring, was involved in sports and clubs and friends... constantly on the go. My professional career has been no different-- committees and coaching and after school activities has been my norm. I've known for the last few years that I've danced a little close to the edge, and I really have tried to back away. This year I did give up a couple of activities, but I ended up picking up a couple of replacements. I thought they'd be less stressful, but... I should have known better. I'm in for the year, however, because, when I say I'm going to do something, I do it.

Flash forward to 2 weeks ago. You all know the story-- pain started at 9 PM. By 2 AM I couldn't take it and we hit the ER. By 5:30 they were shipping me to a second hospital, and I was undergoing surgery for a recently discovered ovarian cyst by 8:15.  To say that this little side trip was not in the plans is an understatement. But... even though I knew I was overscheduled, I didn't react. And so my body took care of it for me.

I don't know what I'm going to do from here. A few of the committees I am on have overlapping roles, and with time, those may merge into one committee. They all support my teaching job, in one way or another, so I'm not willing to give up completely. But I also realize I need to make a change in my stress level-- even though I don't feel stressed at all. As my darling brave sis pointed out this week-- I can't help anyone breathe easily if I don't put on my own oxygen mask first.

So my oxygen mask for the rest of the year is going to be slow, but steady progress towards listening to what my body is saying. If I need to miss a meeting, the world will not end. I cannot do it all, and my family must come before work. And my health must come before all of that.

I'm going to need reminders. Please remind me.

MCP 2012: January

Month 1: Resolution

This kid is not the best skier out there, by a long shot. But he's out there, and he's got more resolve than most of his competitors.

I couldn't be prouder of him.

{this *TMI* moment}

Sorry... but this really is the image of the week. Thank heavens for medical technology; without modern radiology and laproscopy, I would be in lots more pain.

good days and bad

Joe Paterno passed away today. Normally I don't get to involved with football, but this one has been on my mind all day. He had cancer, and some complications from treatment, but how much did the events of last fall impact his ability to recover? Had this scandal not been discovered, would he have had more energy to tackle the disease within? It is possible that months of stress and public embarrassment wore down his immune system to the point that, at age 85, he just didn't have it in him to fight any more. It is also possible that nothing in the outside world could have changed the direction of his disease-- as we all know too well, the Big C does not play favorites. This is something that probably won't be covered by the 24 hour news cycle.... but I wonder, nonetheless.

We all know the story: Paterno held his players to a high standard of ethics, academics, and athleticism. And yet, he worked side by side with an alleged child molester for years, and when someone told him they had witnessed the abuse in action, he forwarded the info... but not to the police. And that decision, sadly, will be a huge part of his legacy.

It reminds me again of the story I've heard told about Bob Kerrey. As a young man he was a Navy SEAL serving in Vietnam, and he not surprisingly regrets some of the choices he made. He supposedly said a man is not judged by his worst day but by his best, or something to that effect.

It is not that simple; nothing important ever is. Paterno is in no way implicated in being involved in any of the abuse. His assistant coach Sandusky is reported to have been molesting boys he met through the charitable foundation he created to help needy children-- if it's possible to be even more evil than someone who leaves a child with scars it is someone who creates a public front of doing good things for the very kids he's scarring. By all accounts, JoePa was disgusted with Sandusky... but also with himself for allowing it to continue. And yet, Paterno ad his wife donated millions of dollars to Penn State and helped hundreds of his athletes become better people. The math overwhelmingly points to his ethical reputation... and yet, that one act of silence tips the scales pretty far.

We all have made-- and will make-- decisions of which we are not proud. I hope we learn from them and are supported by those around us as we try to move forward with our lives. Some actions are easier to forgive, and some very hard to forget. The sad truth is there is no concrete right or wrong answer to many of these dilemmas. My hope is that my reputation buys me some benefit of the doubt, and that I can look myself in the mirror at the end of the day.

Out here in the cheap seats, I have an easy time forgiving Kerrey's situation; war is hell, and what happens there cannot be judged in the same light as if it happened at home. Letting an issue get swept under the rug in your own backyard that potentially exposed multiple children to 9 more years of abuse... well, I'm having a harder time forgetting about his worst day. Luckily for me, it is not my place to judge. In the end, we are all just human, and we all make mistakes. I hope you were at peace before you left this earth, and that peace follows you to wherever you are now... and that those of us left behind can learn from your life.

{this moment}

behavioral balance

Today was another of my behavioral training days. I took on a leadership role in my school to tackle this initiative. My reasons were fairly selfish to start-- I wanted to make the case that I was a part of my main building, not just a stand alone offshoot, and I didn't want to listen to anyone else lead us through this quagmire.

Since then, I've come to realize I need to start a support group. "Hi, my name is rach, and I believe in PBIS..." For those of you not in the know, Positive Behavioral Interventions and Supports are a way to focus on identifying the positive behavior you want all your clientele to perform, and then teaching said behavior to everyone, and then and only then do you figure out which people can't be successful with said task and figure out how to change their experience.

As a parent, I've been opposed to this approach in our schools. "I don't want my kids getting a token for doing what they know is right". Since we're being honest here, this is still true. I'm very aware that behavioral programs that focus on the good kids doing what they should be doing can often turn those kids into targets of resentment. It's hard enough being the children of two teachers... but being 'perfect' children? Nope, I didn't want that on my conscious.

But as a teacher, and a colleague, I focus on positive behavior all the time. Thank you for checking in on a kid. Gold star for you! I love my job. You guys make me smile every time. I have pictures of kids at prom, of my grandstudents, of each of my graduates in my room. I mail home a good news card to at least one kid every week, highlighting something specific that they did right. I hang up every article I find of any of my students from the newspaper. I send a newsletter to any kid who has ever been in my classroom, no matter if it was for 4 hours or 4 years. Yea, I address the things they need to work on, but I also celebrate their successes. Constantly.

So how do I balance the two parts? Honestly, I'm not sure. I guess I keep my eye on the prize, which is to realize that while my kids are great kids, they still can learn more. And as a teacher, I can always do more to help my sunshines be better prepared for the social structure of the real world. It's always about learning... and about giving the other person the benefit of the doubt.

{moments}

I forgot to post a {moment} last week. Probably because I was being kicked around by a nasty cold.

These made it onto FB, but these were some pretty good moments, so they bear repeating.

resolutions and reflections

I have not been writing. Like, at all. Which is not cool. How am I going to become a writer if I don't write! What I struggle with is writing in such a way that it can be helpful for me and not harmful to those about whom I'd be writing. So most of the time, it's easier to stare at a blank "new post" page and leave it at that. I need a new plan, because not writing is not the answer either.

That being said, I need to write more. I want to start my book this year. No, I need to start it this year.

When I was in high school, my pastor wrote a sermon at the start of Lent suggesting that instead of giving up bad habits, we take up good ones. Why give up chocolate when you could start doing one nice thing for someone? This has always resonated with me, and I'm taking it as my theme of resolutions this year. In fact, the only resolution I've ever kept is the one to drink my 32 oz nalgene bottle of water daily. This year, I want to be more forgiving of all people I encounter. None of us are perfect-- not even me, as much as I pretend otherwise-- and we all deserve to be treated well, no matter what baggage we bring to the table.

I had a good year last year, and I hope to say the same 360 days from now.

{those moments}

{this moment}

{last week's moment}

This one is for the sibs...

This holiday, I've given myself permission to do what I can today and save the rest for tomorrow. Sadly, my {moment} was one of those things. Better late than never, no?

{this moment}

{We did not suggest the gender breakdown-- it just happened that he was interested in getting the tree in the stand, and she wanted to decorate it.}

{this moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

{this moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

right kind of crazy

During our Sunshine Thanksgiving yesterday, one of the kids wondered aloud about what we'd be doing if we weren't teaching them. My colleague laughed back and said "Are you calling us crazy?"... but truthfully, I know I am. You have to be a little bit insane to put yourself in a position where you watch people you care about make mistakes and bad choices repeatedly-- and keep coming back for more.

For me, this job is a way of life. I act no differently at school than I do at home or in other public venues; there are no pretenses, no games. I think if you looked up 'tough love' in the dictionary, you'd see me smiling back at you. I expect a lot of these guys, and probably more than anyone has expected of them in years. But when they don't live up to the expectations, we address it and move on. No grudges. I react no differently to a student skipping my class than I would to Boy or Girly not doing what I'd asked them to do: there are consequences to that action (or inaction) but you are mine, and I claim you as mine, always.The consequences they are used to, and really know how to use them to their advantage (I'm sure I've told you about suspensions increasing magically in November... and how I brought a stop to that practice). What they are not used to, and what gets me labeled as a crazy woman by them, is the second piece-- no matter what you do, I claim you as mine. Whether you're making me proud or breaking my heart, you are always a Sunshine.

At Sunshine Thanksgiving, we go around the room and state for what we are thankful. There is nothing quite like hearing a room full of teenagers say they are thankful for the people that help them to warm your heart. I am so thankful for them; as hokey as it sounds, they make my life a better place to be. They make me laugh; they make me cry; they make me proud. Yes, they also make me crazy, but let's be honest here: I already was.

tomorrow is another day...

I haven't reflected recently; I've thought a lot about what's going on, but I need to get better about writing too, because that is often where the magic happens for me.

I'm involved in a year long training that takes me out of my classroom once a month. I almost didn't participate because getting a sub is not fun on a good day, and the idea of a regular planned absence sent me into panic attacks. But then I realized this training would be useful to our classroom, as well as helping to cement our relationship in the mainstream building. Yesterday was my second planned absence this month because of this training... and it really didn't go so well. To clarify: my day was fine. Theirs... not so much.

I'll spare you the details, but needless to say the morning did not look like I thought it would when I left on Wednesday. We spent the morning talking about how this program needs to be able to function without me. Who knows what could happen... I could get sick, need surgery, have parents who need care... we're at the point where I need to let go of some control, and they need to keep going as if I were there, even when I'm not.

This is not going to be easy. For any of us. I have a tiny little bit of a Type A personality (ok, maybe a tad more than that) so letting go is a challenge. And the Sunnies aren't too keen on me letting go either: I heard a couple of times today "none of this would have happened if you were here yesterday". Which is true, sort of... but it's time to change that reality. And we still had other stuff happen today that DID happen while I was RIGHT THERE. I may be a calming influence, but my magic wand has never worked perfectly.

So what do I take away from this? We've come pretty far, but we're not there yet. And we probably never will be... but that doesn't mean we stop trying. Or trusting. Because when I stop trying and trusting... it's time to find a new job, and I'm not ready to do that yet.

{this moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

{this moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

{this moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

in memory of DR

I've spent the week trying to write this post, and I end up staring at my screen. Our high school lost a student this week, a 16 year old junior, as a result of injuries sustained in a car crash. It was one of the worst weeks of my teaching career; and yet, when I try to explain why I live and work where I do, this is the week I will reference.

I witnessed hundreds of kindnesses this week, between students, teachers, colleagues, friends, and family. Our high school has under 350 students, and a staff of 50 or so. To say we all know each other's business is an understatement. Often times that can be frustrating, but this week... I can't express the comfort that brought. We were free to be ourselves, to grieve as we needed, no matter who was around. We'd check on each other, and people were thankful that someone was there catching us in our off moments, as they'd done for someone else before. It sounds surreal, and it was. I wouldn't have believed it either if I didn't live it.

This place has been described as magical before, and it truly is. You don't have to love your neighbor, but there is a definite sense that we are all in this together. Sadly, we have some practice putting together benefits and memorials... people rally around those in need, no matter the cause.  Knowing that I am not alone out here, trying to safely get my children, friends, and family from point A to point B, is more comforting than anything.

We don't know what tomorrow will bring. If this week has shown me anything, it's that we can weather whatever it is as long as we're not doing it alone. Tell people what they mean to you, and tell them often. Be nice to each other-- on good days and especially on bad ones. Take the time to smell the roses, but also to act on your dreams. It might not always be pretty, and it might not be the way we'd have scripted it, but we can get through anything together.

There's No Place Like It

It was one doozy of a week. I'm feeling thankful and blessed to have a home that is all these things and more....


http://thisisindexed.com/2011/10/theres-no-place-like-it/

{this moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

Which words should we live by?

My colleague had a sub on Friday, the same one who has subbed for us in the past. "It has a different feel in here this year. Calmer, more focused. Just thought you should know". He's right: we've found our groove, at least for the moment. Each year has it's own issues, which is part of what I love about my job-- it keeps me on my toes.

My struggle this year is to balance the need of teaching the Sunnies to conform while helping them keep the parts of themselves that make them unique. When do you 'go along to get along' and when do you 'march to your own beat'? Those answers can be different on any given day-- or any given moment. I hate to watch them beat their heads against the wall again and again, knowing it's going to end badly; yet, I am proud of them for standing their ground and believing in themselves, no matter what else anyone says.

Maybe I should start playing the Gambler:
You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away, and know when to run...

{this moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

{this *proud* moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

(I know, I know, no words... but I am really proud of this guy. His skills have improved, he's a team player all the way, and he's consciously being more positive on the field. I love watching you play!)

tough love

Alternate title: the honeymoon is over.

Back to school is a time of goals, spoken and unspoken. I can tell that quite a few sunshines set a few for themselves this fall, even if they didn't jump up and down telling me. Some of them are meeting with some success... but some are very much not.

You know how this goes-- you make your New Year's Resolutions every January, and by Groundhog Day, they're out the window. It is hard to change habits. And when you want to change something that you really enjoy doing (like eating dessert or drinking soda or hitting the snooze button) it's really, really hard. You need help, support, and someone to help hold you accountable. In our BtS resolutions, I get to be that person.

One of the things I think I'm pretty good at is separating the sunny from the decision. We all make bad choices, but that does not mean we're bad people, and it's no different for kids. When one of them skips school, for example, and is seen at the homecoming parade, I don't take it personally. But I do stop the van, roll down the window, and call him on it. It's not because I want to make anyone feel bad, but because I want them to know that I want them at school. I want them to learn from this and to make a different choice the next time. I want them to believe that I care, and that my actions match my words. Come to school so I can help you graduate-- and I'm not even kidding when I say I want you here.

There are a few of them teetering on this long term gain/short term gratification fence, for different reasons. The good news is I think they know I really do want them around. I think they also believe that I hold them to a high standard of behavior because I not only believe that they can achieve it, but also because it's what is best for them long term. And I hope they also know that if they decide they just can't do it right now, that they'll still be a sunshine, and I'll still look out for them just as much as if they were in my classroom. I guess I'm sort of like the Hotel California: you can check in any time you'd like, but you can never really leave :)

{this moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

finding Common Ground

I'm not a big fan of field trips. Between the organizing and the fear of losing a child, I'd always rather just stay home. But, I also know trips have value, and so I put on my big girl pants and deal. (Knowing that it's always worth it in the end helps too.)

Friday's trip was no different. I have some paperwork stuff to deal with on Monday (mostly related to attendance) but once again I'm glad we went. The kids spent an hour volunteering-- they were parking cars-- and it's always wonderful watching them outside a classroom. A couple of them took some attitude from some frustrated drivers; I told them to remember how it felt to be on the receiving end the next time they were on the giving end. But they kept their cool, and I think enjoyed the day.

My hope is our common experience helps form a stronger sense of "us"-- or at least "us" as it exists during this school year. It's human nature to divide ourselves into groups of us and them: part of what I try to do is expand their definitions of who belongs with us. My students aren't all friends with each other, and they don't have to be, but they do have to coexist. Days like last Friday help make it work for us.

{this moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

settling in

We're into our third week of school, although it's only our first full week. I have not been good about blogging, which is probably more troublesome for me than for my Dear Readers. Part of what is so wonderful about blogging is it gives me a chance to think and reflect on my own and yet get feedback from people I trust. So as we start the new year (this is the 'real' one for many of us-- January is just for practice), I am going to strive for one reflective post per weekend.

This week, like most of my weeks, had it's highs and lows. We've settled into the curriculum, and I'm feeling pretty good about what we're doing. For the first time since I've been in this program, I have only 5 preps, and I'm teaching at least 4 classes that I just taught last year! (Praise God and glory be!) Yes, for most high school teachers that's a lot, but for me, who is used to 8 preps and not being able to reteach anything, well, ever... this is absolute heaven. I feel like this is the year I become better at the academic side of my practice, and I am very much looking forward to that.

Socially, we're much more balanced this year. I'm used to having a co-teacher rather than an assistant, and my colleague has a better sense of what it is we're trying to do; in short, we're getting pretty close to finding our rhythm together, which is a very good thing. We've let the Sunnies sort themselves into preferred classrooms: they still have to go to whichever class they need for credits, but they get to return to their comfort zone in between. Another huge change has our last class of each day as independent study time. Because 80% of this year's class are seniors (4th, 5th, or 4th-now-but-expecting-to-be-5th-next-year), there are quite a few of them who have needs specific to themselves and not to a full class of students. What's nice about this is they have control about how their day ends. Yesterday, my room had 10 kids all working on their own stuff. I had 2 groups of 2 kids working together and supporting each other through the chapter... and all I had to do was sit back and watch the magic. Yea, that's a good day.

So I'm back in the swing. I'm not going to lie and say my alarm clock and I are good friends, or that I wouldn't be all over working in a school that started at 10 AM.... but I feel pretty great being back in my room, pushing my Sunnies to be all that they can be.

{this moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

{this moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

half full or completely empty?

Just about 30 minutes ago, our town voted down a $10,000 grant that would have allowed us to keep the old school building and turn it into a community center. It was not a pleasant meeting. I love my town, but I do have a hard time being in a place that is afraid of the future. Most of the arguments were based on "what if"s... what if the furnace dies, what if we can't find more grants... half empty lines of thinking. I am half full to a dangerous point, I realize-- "Let's go for it, and it'll all work out somehow!"-- which is no way to run a business or a town, but there has to be a happy medium in there somewhere. Sadly, this project is not the one that will allow us to find it, because the building is now closed, forever.

Sadly, it reminds me of the town meetings when the town had applied for a new school building back in the early 90s. I wasn't a voting member of the town, but as an employee of the school I went to a few meetings to be informed. The town voted that building down... which is what directly lead us to have to merge with the neighboring SAD a decade later, which then became the massive RSU we now work for and send our kids to. The fear of the circuit breaker (the amount of the building which we did not have to repay because it was deemed more than the town could afford) caused citizens to turn it down in 1994. Those very ghosts were present in that same room tonight, but at what cost?

{this *family* moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.

{this moment}

A weekend ritual from my friend Wendy, who got it from SouleMama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.