Neophyte Jungle

Speculation

2009-04-14T16:41:00.003-04:00

I wondered how long it would take before my students started speculating about my "condition."

Apparently, not long.

Today, on two separate occasions, students (all girls) called me over during seat work and, none-too-timidly, asked the question: "Are you pregnant?"

Granted, my choice of outfit probably prompted some of it: I was wearing an empire-waisted shirt that puffed out a little bit in the front ... And my belly has seemingly "popped" overnight (maybe it was all the Easter food on Sunday) ... But I was still slightly surprised by all the unwanted attention.

If I have learned one thing as a educator in the past two years, it is that there is a wall that must stay firmly in place between teacher and student. Without it, students get the false impression that you are their buddy, an older friend that divulges intimate life details ... That can (obviously) not be the case! With these kids craving attention and, oftentimes, that connection with an adult that they can trust, the wall can become faulty, crack, and fall, challenging and sometimes eliminating all professionalism from the teacher/student relationship.

It's a strange little balance to strike ... One that I hadn't realized would be affected by my pregnancy.

Obviously, the students that ask and wonder will get their answer (either directly or indirectly) because my body is changing. I am getting a little bit rounder in the midsection. I suppose I'm lucky that I got this far without any scrutiny ... I successfully bypassed any suspicion due to morning sickness (I didn't have any) for the first three months.

I don't want to go up in front of the class and make a big announcement, but I don't want to be like one of those celebrities that denies her pregnancy when she's as round as a beach ball, either.

Ha!

I just compared myself to a celebrity ... If only I made that much money!

April Storm

2009-04-06T20:28:00.006-04:00

In under a week, a lot of things can change.

Gone are the long shadows of an evening sunset on a clear, cloudless day.

Gone are the brisk, warm-ish temperatures that warrent only a bulky sweater.

Gone are the smiling faces of my daffodils ...

I hate to say "I told you so," but I totally did.

Darn you, Cleveland weather!

April Bloom

2009-04-01T18:14:00.003-04:00

I was surprised to see the bright yellow petals of this daffodil amongst the dark, rainy gloominess of the morning as I made my way to work. I was even more surprised, after a long day at said job, to see how fresh and happy it looked in the dying light of the day ...

So I just had to snap a photo.

I have the sinking feeling that this vibrant, little flower is going to end up covered in snow before the month is up.

Venus and Mars

2009-03-26T18:06:00.004-04:00

To truly see the difference between men and women, one must look no farther than their reactions to a pregnancy announcement.

A response from another (female) teacher at my place of employment: "A baby! How exciting!"

A response from a (male) co-worker at my husband's place of employment: "You've got to be loving your wife's bigger boobs! Just wait until her milk comes in ..."

Souvenir

2009-03-24T19:11:00.008-04:00

In addition to more photos than I can count, my husband and I like to pick up a little trinket from the locations we visit while on an extended vacation. Usually, the item is something small ... A hand painted sand dollar from our honeymoon, a piece of mountain rock from Colorado ... Definitely not something worth more than a couple of dollars.

Our family vacation to Mexico being no exception, we came home with a nice piece of coral from the beach that flanked our resort and a rustic magnet from one of the vendors around Chichen Itza ...

Or so we thought ...

It turns out, our leisurely vacation out of the States yielded something else, as well ... Something worth much more than a couple of dollars. It turns out our vacation produced a fertilized embryo, which implanted itself in my uterus, which has now grown to become a 14-week fetus.

It gives the statement "Made in Mexico" a whole new meaning for us ... One that will come in quite handy when we wish to torment our teenage son or daughter one day.

:)

Mid-winter Slump

2009-02-20T17:05:00.001-05:00

This February has been especially rough on me and I feel as if I'm caught in some sort of trap. Motivation is low, creativity is nonexistent ... I find myself counting down the minutes until I can curl up in my warm bed and fall asleep for the night.

While this is doing wonders for the amount of time my brain is getting to reboot every night, its not doing much for this blog.

It doesn't help that I'm feeling more frustrated than inspired at work, and I don't want to constantly complain about the incredibly crazy situations that make up my day-to-day life ... Then my readership (of two people?) will really go down! I just feel like whenever things seem to be moving in the right direction, something has to ruin everything.

A productive lab day for all of my classes is sabotaged (at least in my mind) by someone stealing my supplies.
A seemingly "easy" class of simple note-taking becomes a shouting match between two girls when one none-too-kindly requests that the other "shut up."
A student recites my written words from past discipline referrals and even a conference questionnaire in front of his peers ... Announcing that I must be passive-aggressive for good measure.
Students give up if they feel overwhelmed (challenged?) by an assignment and then blame me for not "helping them."

I don't know if this winter weather is pulling everyone down, or if I'm all alone in having a really crappy month.

It just stinks that all these little storm clouds fill my thoughts overshadow the good things that are currently happening, too ...

Maybe next month.

Blizzard

2009-02-13T18:41:00.003-05:00

No ... Thankfully not the type that is made of feet of cold, unyielding snow ... But rather the edible Dairy Queen variety.

I'm not sure if it's because Valentine's Day is tomorrow, or because my husband is just awesome (it's probably because he's just awesome) ... But I'll be getting a delicious ice-cream treat when he returns home any moment now. Chocolate chip cookie dough. Yum!

And to think, all it took was a simple, "Do you know what you should do after we clean up from dinner?"

And off he went.

I'm a lucky, lucky girl. :)

If only the rest of my week (especially the parts where I am working) could go as wonderfully as this!

Snap Judgements

2009-02-04T19:43:00.004-05:00

Although I'm pretty level-headed and logical, there are times at school when I just act out of pure frustration or emotion. For some reason, students find it entertaining to just wander into my classroom while on their way someplace else ... And I all-too-enthusiastically shoo them away.

The other day, while sitting at my desk during study hall, one of my usual hall wanderers came into the room and made quite a scene. He high-fived a student in the room, shouted out greetings to all who could hear, generally strutted like a peacock trying to impress a mate. I was just about to tell him to "move along" when he walked farther into the room, approaching my desk. While looking everyplace else but at me, he mumbled, in a much quieter voice than I have ever heard him use: "Miss? Can you help me with that science assignment from the other day?"

Shocked that he wasn't just entering my room for no reason other than to cause a commotion, I picked my jaw up from off of the floor and quickly agreed to help him out before he was off to locate the tricky paper.

Looking back at this particular situation, I'm so glad that I did not act on my initial inclinations. Thankfully, I didn't shout out something along the lines of: "Jason! Get to class or I'm writing you up for disrupting my study hall!" Not only would this have escalated an otherwise harmless situation, it would have made me feel like a complete idiot for missing one of the most worthwhile opportunities that my job provides ... Working one on one with a student and actually getting somewhere.

On the flip side, during a different study hall, I had a student tell me that he didn't like me when he first came into my classroom: "I thought that you were really serious and smart ... That you would think I was stupid if I didn't understand something," he commented honestly.

"But I'm not like that," I shrugged.

"No! You're not that way at all ... You're very patient and helpful. I guess it's like that saying you shouldn't judge a book by its cover."

You know, there is something to be said for letting a situation (or a working relationship) unfold before arriving at a definitive conclusion. Sometimes we need a little time to see the truth of the moment shine through.

I'm a scientist at heart. I should have that down by now.

Trophy Husband

2009-01-29T18:24:00.003-05:00

Since I can't count on my students to make me proud by showing me all the wonderful things they've learned, it's nice to come home to a husband that is still kicking butt at his classes.

To recap (for any new readers that may have stumbled here), he is back at school, taking courses in American Sign Language and Deaf Culture for an eventual certificate in Deaf Interpretation. Pessimistic as always when it comes to him and school, he continues to tell me his school stories, half-heartedly, like he's on the brink of giving up ... When, in reality, I know that he's flying through the classes and signing exercises like he's been doing them his whole life.

For example, just the other night, he was sitting at our computer, watching an automated hand spell various three-letter words, and then typing his responses. Totally nailing each one, I persuaded him to step outside of his timid little comfort zone and try and increase the speed ... First to "fast" and then to "deaf." Well, wouldn't you know it? He was getting just about every word on the "deaf" setting and making it look easy!

Like I said, he's kicking butt.

I'm so proud of him!

Discouraged

2009-01-28T15:52:00.002-05:00

"You are really, really patient," a student commented to me yesterday. "I don't think I'd be able to do what you do!"

Yes, I am an incredibly patient person ... But there are limits to how long said patience will last. Like every other person, I get antsy and annoyed with a lack of progress. My patience wears thin if I feel like it's just not worth it anymore.

Lately, my patience is waning ...

Many of my students, despite the "new beginning" of the third quarter, have seemed to stop caring. They make it very clear that they have better things to be doing during my fifty minutes class ... They sidetrack themselves with naps, overall lethargy, conversations with those around them, or notes to friends. They barely participate and, when they do, there is a decidedly small amount of effort going into their performances.

So, the question remains: If they don't care, why should I?

I take the extra time to plan lessons that (I think) will be fun, yet still have educational value. I try to maintain an upbeat attitude, even in the face of blatant disrespect. I try to see the silver lining in every class ... Maybe someone finally got the concept. Maybe a student is proud of her achievements with physics formulas. Maybe a trouble-maker was quiet for just one day ... Yet, I'm left feeling overwhelmingly discouraged.

It just occurred to me (probably because I've written it down), that within the word "discouraged" is hidden another, much more important word: courage.

I must find the courage to muddle on.

I must continue to give my all when those students around me are giving far less than their best. I must take heart that I am a good teacher, despite what my students' grades may reflect. I must be brave and put on a happy face when all I want to do is scream and cry.

I guess I realize that, deep down, this job that I do ... Teaching ... Is worth it.

At least that's what I keep telling myself.

Night and Day

2009-01-27T12:52:00.001-05:00

About a month ago, my parents took the whole family out for a "game night" at a local bowling alley. It was my mother's attempt to breathe some life (and some money) into a struggling small business ... and to get everyone together before her youngest headed back to college.

Despite the blizzard-like driving conditions that night, and the hemming and hawing from my husband the whole way there, it actually turned out to be a pretty fun experience ... The scientist in me was thoroughly entertained by all the little intricacies of the evening.

I've always known, but never really stopped to fully investigate (or appreciate), just how different my sisters and myself are. Of course, these differences are not relegated to appearance alone, and spill over into all other areas of our lives ... Likes and dislikes, personality, fashion sense, and, the most glaringly obvious ... Who we each chose as a significant other.

Summed up in a few words:

My husband: laid back, goofy, unassuming ...

Middle Sister's "friend" (she has yet to admit that he is her "boyfriend" even though he has been around for nearly a year): personable, established, an observer ...

Youngest Sister's boyfriend: spirited, competitive, immature ...

Even so, despite the differences in personality, age, occupation, and/or comfort level within my family, they way that these guys just fit together, as if they've known each other forever, was (and is) uncanny ...

While my Middle Sister or Youngest Sister's guy wouldn't be a match for me, and my husband would probably drive them crazy, it's easy to see what makes each relationship work. Maybe there is a balance of opposing attitudes. Maybe it's more like being "two peas in a pod." No matter what the case, a night of bowling with my family was like an experiment in watching a family grow. It was all too easy to see how newcomers are added to the mix ... Yet, somehow, they don't seem all that new.

It's like they have been there all along.

Still Chilly

2009-01-22T19:31:00.004-05:00

"It's going to be warmer today!" A coworker cheerfully informed me when I walked into the high school this morning.

Had I not seen ninety degree weather in December this winter, I might not be so spoiled and actually get excited over this teeny, tiny little "thaw" that's taking place.

Talk to me about warm weather when it will look and feel a little bit closer to this:

You know ... Me, in a bikini, sunning myself on a rock in the Caribbean Ocean.

Stunted Silence

2009-01-20T19:45:00.005-05:00

"If there were a little more silence, if we all just kept quiet ... Maybe we could understand something." (Frederico Fellini)

Being back at the hustle and bustle of school after a long weekend is always a hard adjustment ... For both students and teachers! Not only do I miss the extra sleep I tend get on my weekends and days off, I also miss the random little moments where I can just sit quietly and think about things.

A typical high school (like mine) is non-stop noise, so there is very little time for me (or anyone else for that matter) to pause and reflect. Finding the time to simply figure out if a lesson "worked" or not is difficult. Good luck locating a second to answer some of the bigger questions ...

I suppose that therein lies one of the main differences between my students and myself: I embrace the silence of the day, whereas they are fearful of it.

I always chuckle to myself when, as the class is working, the noise level naturally dies down to a very dull whisper, miraculously remaining that way for a couple minutes. "Wow! It's really quiet in here!" Someone will, inevitably yell out, giving everyone else in the room an excuse to get loud again.

It's almost like a protection mechanism.

When the room is quiet, one can actually think about things, gain insight and understanding ... And we wouldn't want that.

;)

Waiting

2009-01-16T16:38:00.002-05:00

Many days, I feel like my life is just one long line after another. I'm perpetually waiting for something ...

A snow day.

My husband's arrival home from work.

The weekend.

The summer.

A planned trip or vacation.

A holiday.

A phone call from a friend.

A television show to come on.

Dinner to be done.

A better job.

My turn to be a mother.

This list could stretch on an on without fail ...

While, for the most part, I try not to cloud my daily thinking with the many things that I am looking forward to (or just simply waiting for), sometimes it just bogs me down. Maybe the cold, grayness of winter has finally crept into my thinking and colored the way I'm seeing things. Maybe the lack of sun and vitamin D has altered my mood and brought me down. Whatever the reason, I all too clearly realize that, if I don't stop and enjoy the moment, my life will pass me by before I know it.

Already, I can't believe that the Christmas holidays are behind us, that this school year is half over, that the long-awaited family trip to Mexico has come and gone. Part of me wants to ask, "Okay! Where is the next big thing? When will [insert event here] happen?" Yet, the other part of me just wants to slow down, put the car in neutral, and be thankful for all of the things that I have already, in the moment, that I don't have to wait for.

This life can not offer me a true moment of peace and complete satisfaction.

I may really have to wait a while for that ...

Leaky Faucet

2009-01-15T19:07:00.003-05:00

For as long as I can remember, my Mom has always been a big softy. If she wasn't falling asleep on "family movie nights" she was crying instead, furiously wiping tears away from her face. I (along with my sisters) always found this funny and would talk about it for days afterward ...

I never had a problem with crying during movies myself until the past five years or so. I don't know what it is, but I tear up at least once or twice during just about every movie I watch ... And it's getting worse!

The best I can remember, it started with a comedy, The Wedding Singer. There's one part, toward the end of the movie where Drew Barrymore's character is talking to herself in the mirror and realizes that she's not in love with the man she's about to marry. To comfort herself, she starts talking to the mirror as if she's marrying someone else, a friend who has been there with her through everything, and realizes that she has feelings for him, instead. At that very moment, that same friend is watching from the street below ready to express his feelings for her, but, upon seeing her smiling and laughing, turns away because he doesn't want to ruin her big day if she is truly happy (which she isn't!).

I don't know what it was, but something about that scene hit me and caused a rogue tear to escape down my cheek ... From then on, it has only gotten worse. Any movie with "feel good" themes and/or an uplifting message gets me every time. It can be drama, comedy, animated. Whatever the genre, you name it ... I turn into my mother and lose it just about every time.

Even television shows get me on occasion ... A season finale of The Office where Jim comes back for Pam, an episode of The Biggest Loser where the contestants get to see their families for the first time in weeks, and (I hate to even admit it) even America's Next Top Model where a finalist says that she never felt pretty before, and now she finally does ...

Like I said, it's getting worse.

It's not that a good cry doesn't feel good on a semi-regular basis. I just feel like, if I'm going to cry, it might as well be for a real reason, and not because a movie or television show has coerced it out of me. If you asked those closest to me, I can be sensitive, but I'm not an overly emotional person. For example, my husband has (lovingly?) described me as being the "coldest person he has ever known."

So, why movies? Why now?

Any hypotheses addressing the matter would be greatly appreciated. I always knew that I had the potential of "becoming my mother." I just didn't think it would happen this soon!

A New School

2009-01-12T19:13:00.005-05:00

Many days, I wish that things with my job (and teaching in general) were easier. I feel like, no matter what I do, it's like pulling teeth with my students.

They aren't motivated.

They don't care about completing their work (or passing the class).

They aren't very easily excited ... I mean, even the prospect of working with ten test tubes filled with unknown chemicals doesn't cause a noticeable reaction!

It makes me sad that there is so little enthusiasm for learning and just plain expanding one's universe with these kids.

Maybe I need to expand my universe and move to a different school ...

Something similar to the one I encountered while in Mexico would be nice.

Blindsided

2009-01-08T16:00:00.000-05:00

I know I always say that I'm not surprised by anything that happens within the walls of my high school, but something exceptionally weird happened this week ...

At the end of the day, one of my most trustworthy students approached me and asked if I had noticed an out-of-place visitor in my classroom the period before. Stopping to think about it ... The period had been chaotic as my students worked on group projects and I tried desperately to keep their volume under control and their group work on task ... I couldn't recall seeing anyone that didn't belong.

After I replied that I hadn't noticed any impostors, the student went on to tell me how a student from one of my previous sections had snuck into the room about five minutes after the period began, hid under her friend's lab table, and proceeded to stay there for the rest of the period (forty minutes)!! Apparently, I had passed by the area multiple times, yet never caught on to what was happening under my nose.

Not only did I feel incredibly stupid that my students had to point this out to me (Really, how could I blatantly miss someone sitting under a table for forty minutes and not see them come or go?) I also felt betrayed and angry at the situation.

The sneaky student, you see, was one that other teachers complain about, but that I feel like I have advocated for and gone out of my way to mentor. I have pushed her and praised her, listened to her scholastic struggles between classes, and basically done everything in my power to lift her up where others may have crushed her down. It genuinely hurt my feelings that she would use me and my classroom in such a way ... That she obviously thinks I'm an idiot and wouldn't notice her little game (which, to her credit, I didn't).

I know I probably shouldn't take the situation personally because teenagers are so fickle, but the whole thing has just weighed me down since it happened. Skipping class is one thing. Doing it by hiding in my room is another thing entirely. It is something so disappointing and unacceptable that I can't really formulate the words to truly describe how I feel about it.

I guess the best summation is that I feel betrayed.

What is the point of putting yourself out there, taking the extra time, and trying to form these mentor relationships with students, when all they do is use it against you (whether consciously or not)?

I sure didn't see this one coming.

Feliz Año Nuevo

2009-01-07T18:13:00.006-05:00

I know I'm a little belated in this sentiment, but I'm having a difficult time adjusting to the "Cleveland gray" after a wonderful week of vibrant Mexico color.

I mean, if you have to wake up early (on vacation, even!), this makes it all worthwhile...

The photo doesn't even do it justice.

Early Christmas Present

2008-12-22T20:35:00.000-05:00

Last Friday afternoon marked the beginning of my Christmas vacation.

While the school day itself was uneventful for the most part, I wanted to share a portion of an article in our school's "newspaper." It's author, Andy, is one of my favorite students because he is one of the few that actually gets it.

He wrote:

Are your teachers heroes? Yes, they are heroes, but they are put in the back of our minds. They don't sit on golden thrones like our athletes do, but instead are at times teased, complained about and made fun of because they push us to make us better than we are ... In this season of giving, and maybe beyond, if we're all that we should be, perhaps the most important gift that we can offer is a simple "thank you" to those who don't set themselves up in the glare of celebrity, but instead serve humanity and make the best of this world. If you have a moment during our winter break, make the world a little brighter. Look around and find someone to thank.

No. Thank you Andy.

For giving me hope that my hard work doesn't not go unrecognized by the students that I'm trying reach ...

White Lights

2008-12-19T08:41:00.001-05:00

Weeks ago, I took to decorating the house for the Christmas season. While most of my decorating was "by the books" and pretty much the same as it has been for the past couple of years, I decided to change things up a little bit (throw caution to the wind!) and wind some white mini-lights around the railing to our second floor ...

Although it was completely unorthodox ... Usually, I use the colored mini-lights ... I was quite satisfied with the finished product:

It looked peaceful.

Angelic, even.

Certainly a decoration that is completely in tune with the holiday spirit and all that it entails.

To my dear husband, however, it is merely bright ...

"Did you have to use the white lights?" He complained upon seeing them in all their glowing glory. "They're going to cause a glare on the TV! There's no way I'm going to turn those on in the evening!"

Well, since that first day of decorating, my pretty white lights have only been on when I've turned them on ... Until last night when I spied him reading with the peaceful lights twinkling by his side.

Someone must be getting into the "Christmas Spirit."

Semantics

2008-12-18T19:18:00.004-05:00

After progress reports go out, a teacher can pretty much expect to get attitude from angry students. This can come by way of reduced conversation between classes, refusal to answer questions and/or participate in class, or (my absolute favorite) verbal confrontation.

One of my morning classes is blessed by the presence of (we'll call him) Jason*. A sophomore boy with a huge ego, Jason feels that he is an absolute gift to the class and never fails to make that assertion known ... He harasses younger students by "taking" their seats and gives them a hard time when they ask for them back. He dictates who should answer in-class questions by giving answers to select students and telling them to "Raise your hand!". He eggs students on, especially the girls, by making rude comments and/or gestures. Ultimately, though, he likes to engage in power struggles with me ...

I guess you might say that a teacher, like myself, is Lex Luthor to his Superman (or something like that). So, it's too bad that I'm especially gifted at avoiding that sort of thing ...

All while coming out victorious!

Just this week, at the end of class, Jason started muttering (loud enough for me to hear, mind you) that he was "incorrectly accused" of cheating on an assignment and his mother was all over him for it.

After listening to him complain for a good five minutes as he garnered the rest of the class' attention, I simply replied that I don't merely accuse students of cheating. Cheating in my classroom a serious offense, so, if I see a student cheating they have to deal with the consequences. I then explained that, in the particular instance of which Jason was speaking, I had asked the students to take out a piece of paper and list some of the concepts that they had learned the previous day ... This assignment did not require anything but that single piece of paper, and Jason had decided to pull out his notes as well.

"But that's not cheating!" He exclaimed.

"Using notes when you have been asked to put them away, isn't cheating?" I asked.

"No," he replied, but offered no alternate explanation.

"Okay ... Maybe cheating is too harsh of a word," I offered. "I'll have to think of something else to call it ... Inappropriate use of notes, maybe? Not following directions?"

Upset that he hadn't ruffled my feathers, he let the topic drop until class ended ... But I'm pretty sure that won't be the last I've heard about it (or situations like it).

When students (like Jason) feel that they are above those in positions of authority, there really is no winning. Their minds are set and focused on one particular fact: They are right and you are wrong. Cheating or not cheating, to them, is a slippery slope of shaky definitions.

It's all the same until they are caught.

*For any new readers, names will always be changed to keep these sneaky kids off of my back! :)

One Minute

2008-12-15T15:48:00.004-05:00

A day in the life of a teacher:

Getting ready for school in the morning: 45 minutes
Traveling to the school: 7 minutes
Actual teaching time: 200 minutes
Struggling with students for their attention during that "teaching time": 40 minutes
Eating lunch: 30 minutes
Conversing with students during study hall: 20 minutes
Planning lessons: 50 minutes
Writing demerits for behavior infractions: 15 minutes
Helping a struggling student at the end of the day: 30 minutes
Watching the light finally go off for said student as she finally "got it" and feeling completely validated that, just maybe, I'm doing something right: 1 minute

It's those small moments, those little unexpected minutes, that truly make this job worth doing.

Yeah, despite the chaos leading up to Christmas Break, today was a good day.

High School Lessons #4

2008-12-12T12:53:00.004-05:00

Lesson #4: Teaching makes you impervious to insults

There are many things about teenagers that, although fairly obvious, jump out at you after spending much of your day with them. The main thing that I've noticed this year is that these kids are completely mercurial. Hot one minute, cold the next, my students never fail to surprise me with their reactions to in-class situations or the logic behind their actions and behaviors.

For example, my students strongly believe that, if they are upset about something in my classroom (be it the way I am running things, an assignment, or a test), it will upset me, as well.

Imagine, if you will, the following being said in a whiny voice:

"This test is stupid!"

"I've never seen a test more pointless than this one!"

"You are such a hater!"

"I like [insert other teacher's name here] so much better than you!"

"This is the most boring class I've ever been in!"

Yeah, yeah ... Keep the insults coming ...

The test probably is stupid and pointless (When, after Ohio Graduation Tests are over, are any of these kids going to need to know the three types of rocks?). I most certainly do hate your bad behavior. That other teacher can "borrow" you from my classroom anytime! Classes where no one participates are boring for me, too ...

It's just so amusing that they don't realize the ineffectiveness of their approach. Maybe, last year as a new teacher, I would have spent a moment or two thinking about their complaints. I might have stressed over whether or not I, or my class, was well liked. That's not to say that I don't care about these things now, I just see how fleeting these teenage feelings are ... A student that is "mad at me" one afternoon, will be smiling and waving to me the next morning.

Besides, I'm not looking to be liked ... I'm looking to be respected.

Flowers and Chocolate

2008-12-09T12:00:00.000-05:00

As much as I complain about my high school students and their lack of motivation, attention, effort, and respect, there are a handful that, while they do not have an excess of those qualities, make up for it with kindness and creativity.

Every day, students are trying to give me things.

Pieces of art from art class
Holiday decorations (like paper pilgrims for Thanksgiving or potato turkeys)
Origami flowers
Quick doodles or drawings on notebook paper (or my white boards)
High fives
Hugs ...

The list could go on and on.

Many days, I feel like a new parent, graciously accepting all of the paper creations from my "kids" and assuring them that I'll proudly display them on my desk or at home.

"Really?" They ask, disbelieving. "You'll really hang it on your refrigerator?"

Of course I will ... Why not?

It's funny to me how, sometimes, it really is the simple things that make the most difference. Maybe these kids aren't learning science during each and every lesson. Maybe they are bored and they wish that they were anywhere but in my classroom ... But that least they know that I care. At least those few gift-givers can go home and tell their parents, or friends, or maybe just their diary, that someone made them feel like they were important, that whatever they had to give was valuable.

It may not be a traditional gift of flowers or chocolate, but it's something ... And I see that. I only hope that, as the year progresses, these"gifts" remain and new ones (such as those in-class attributes) follow.

Internal Struggle

2008-12-08T18:17:00.003-05:00

The longer I have this blog, the more I want to just let it all out there ... Tell detailed stories about my day, tales of long ago (college, high school, childhood!), post pictures that show more than just the back of my head or the side of my face.

Yet, my better judgement causes me to err on the side of caution.

Although I'm still getting used to the profession, I've come to understand that I am a teacher and anything that I post on the world-wide-web has a very real possibility of reaching the fragile young minds (ha!) of my students. It's not like I have any risque stories or skeletons to keep hidden (I will swear up and down that I am the most boring, well behaved, law abiding person on this planet), and while I wouldn't say anything on here and I wouldn't say offline, I feel that I have a real responsibility to keep up the facade ...

At least for now.

Despite the real need for me to be committed to that decision (to remain somewhat anonymous, although I'm sure I've left enough "clues" to be found out), it bothers me that this blog will always be missing something if that's precisely what I do.

As I've spent more time on other blogs, I've come to find that there is an honesty that comes with being open and truly "putting yourself out there." I realize that, as long as a part of me is hidden in the shadows, this blog will never attain that sort of honesty. It will always be incomplete.

I've chosen to write in this forum not only because a friend pressured me to do so, but because (I feel) I actually have something to say ... Whether it's simple blabber about my day, a photograph I've taken, or a commentary on the world of teaching as I know it, I post for more reason than to just eat up some of my time. Maybe selfishly, I believe that others could read what I write and be moved in some way. At the very least, whomever stumbles here might be entertained on some level.

I know this isn't award-worthy stuff, but it's me.

It just sort of stinks that as this blog progresses, and as I find my voice, I have to hold back in some respects ... Anonymity isn't easy!

It's a good thing I'm not a superhero.

Downtime

2008-12-04T20:09:00.004-05:00

Since I'm not bringing as much work home with me anymore (read: none), I find myself sitting and putzing around on the computer for hours on end. It definitely doesn't help that my husband is off at his college classes two nights a week, and then, on the other nights, he's holed up in our bedroom listening to movie scores and studying ...

Left to my own devices, I've found a new passion for photography. I've always liked taking pictures ... But now, I find myself editing and altering them using the pitiful software on my computer.

For example, what do you get when you put your cat in a choke hold and snap a photo using your other arm?

This:

It's certainly not much in comparison with some of the photos I see on Flickr and other blogs that I frequent, but it's a start.

And it gives me something to do.

Hopefully, I'll have something better to photograph than the side of my face and my uncooperative cats one day...

Improvisation

2008-12-03T12:12:00.003-05:00

When I went back to school to become a teacher, I learned a lot about classroom management, adolescent development, and pedagogy.

But there were some things that were suspiciously kept silent.

For instance, they never tell you that ...

Students will hate you one day and want to hug you the next.
Baking soda and vinegar reactions are always exciting.
Students (in high school!) are always putting things in their mouths.
Big, bulky test tube racks make nice bathroom passes and deter some students from using the restroom during class time ... They don't want to look stupid carrying that dumb thing around!
The floor of your classroom will end up looking like a garbage can by the end of the day.
Drama is lurking around every corner.
Shirts miraculously untuck themselves.
Comfortable shoes are essential to maintaining a good mood (cooperative behavior from your students doesn't hurt, either).
When a student asks to "borrow a pen or a pencil" they really mean that they are going to keep it.
Students always ask for extra credit ... But very rarely complete it when it is given.
Seat charts are made to be changed again, and again, and again, and again ... And again!
Correct use of the English language (both verbal and written) is a rarity.
A stapler can be used to close a student's shirt (so as to keep her from exposing her "feminine charms" to the entire world).

Is it Christmas Break yet?!

The High Road

2008-11-25T20:24:00.003-05:00

For those that know me fairly well, there are two facets to my personality:

On one hand, I can be very friendly, loyal, and kindhearted.
On the other, I can be sarcastic, mean-spirited, and prone to gossip.

It's almost as if there's still a little bit of teenage girl trapped inside of me, willing to partake in drama just for the sake of doing so ... Even though, at twenty-six, I'm well aware that it's not becoming or attractive in any way.

While I always say I'm going to stop being so juvenile, I never really go around to making good on my own internal promises.

Until recently.

I feel like I'm growing up or something.

This past Sunday was my sister-in-law's baby shower. This meant, not only ogling over all the cute baby things, but also spending some time with my extended family members ... From both the in-law and the other-in-law sides of my family. Usually, I'd just steer clear of the other-in-laws for the sake of my own comfort and sanity, but something compelled me to be a little different this time around.

Just recently, I "friended" and have spoken to, my brother-in-law's older sister through the magic of Facebook. As it turns out, we have a few things in common ... One of them being the same confused feelings over being happy for the parents-to-be, yet sad that we are not the ones who are pregnant in the first place. On the surface, it's a great comfort to know that someone else feels exactly as I do ... It's also nice to think that these conversations might change things (for the better) as the family grows and expands ... And we inevitably spend more time together.

She's a nice girl.

While, one-on-one, it is so easy for me to declare the truth and steer clear of my gossiping ways, I fall into trouble when I'm in the presence of some of my husband's other relatives, namely, a group of his female cousins. Again, one-on-one, these girls are wonderful (beautiful inside and out), but put them together and they produce a virtual black hole that encompasses anyone or anything within a ten foot radius of themselves ... Positivity slips through and is gone forever. It's inside of this black hole that they let their inner teenagers loose to mock and tease the same other-in-laws that I am now growing to like.

They make comments like "big nose" or "buck-toothed." They complain about their fashion choices or any mannerisms that they may happen to witness. They make the conscious choice not to like these people, for no other reason than because they can.

On any other day I'd jump right in and laugh along with them ... But not this time.

For once, I took the high road.

Instead of adding to their conversations, adding fuel to their fire, I ignored them when they got negative. I left the table (with the guise of getting some food or refreshments) and went over to greet my other-in-laws and see what was happening on their end. In short, I said I'd make a change in my behavior ... And I actually followed through. I was the friendly, kindhearted person that I know I can be.

For once, I didn't fall in to the black hole. It was wonderful.

"Geez," I said at one point when the cousins were getting out of hand. "I'm glad that you like me, because I'd hate to hear what you say about me when I'm not around!"

While I'm still in possession of the two personality traits that I listed, I really do feel like I'm taking a different path from here on out. I may slip or struggle every now and then, but I can always look back at the feeling of joy from acting respectable. I know that, deep down, I'm not a bad person ... But if I produce a pattern of negative behaviors, how would a stranger know that?

It's time I start (consistently) acting my age.

As they say, actions speak louder than words ...

Compliment

2008-11-21T16:52:00.003-05:00

After last week's Friday entry, it's nice to end this week on a positive note ...

I've been called many things in my lifetime, but this one, courtesy of a student, is new to me.

(Definition #4 is my favorite)

Please keep in mind that I'm probably as "white bread" as they come and that my students this year aren't that urban.

Very interesting ... :)

Loud Mouth

2008-11-19T19:33:00.002-05:00

Despite what the title of this post suggests, I'm normally not a very "loud" person. That's not to say that I can't be loud at times ... I'd just rather blend into the background rather than boldly stand out against it.

As a teacher, I have become more used to being the center of attention ... But, who am I kidding? Half of the time, the students aren't even paying attention to me anyway ... Regardless of whether or not the little ears are listening, I speak with a loud, authoritative tone. I never feel like I'm shouting (at least, not unless I want to be shouting), rather, I'm pronouncing and enunciating each word so that all can hear.

At my previous school, I was chastised for doing this.

"Speak softly," my principal would chide, often leaving little sticky notes on my teacher's manuals and lesson plans. "If you speak softly, the children will also speak softly."

While this type of thought, the whole "lead by example" mantra, may work sometimes, I have found that teenagers are not especially receptive to it. Certainly, a calm voice will keep them more subdued than a frantic, nervous one, but volume means very little to them.

They are perpetually loud.

So, when a student looks you in the eye during a lab activity and asks, "Why are you yelling?" as you are trying to explain something to their small group, I guess it's time to turn down the volume a touch.

Mission: Accomplice

2008-11-17T18:03:00.002-05:00

I have always considered myself to be a "dog person," but I am now quite accustomed to life with cats. I like how low maintenance they are, how they get embarrassed when they do something stupid, how their meows sound unique ... I like when they purr for no good reason (usually after you've had a bad day) or how (only if they feel like it) they curl up on your lap or next to you in bed and keep you warm.

The longer I have cats, the more interesting I realize that they are, and the more I realize that life would be weird without one. However, I've also come to find that my cats (at the very least) are constantly scheming ...

They're up to no good.

For example, this past weekend, I came upstairs to find "my" cat, our black mixed-breed, laying all adorably in the doorway to the master bedroom. Unable to resist a fat creature like herself, I knelt down and gave her a few good "love taps" instead of entering the room. She promptly began to purr and stretch out, obviously enjoying the attention.

Then I head a bumbling, rustling noise coming from inside ... Just beyond what I could see from the doorway...

As it turns out, our other cat, a petite, little Tortie, was into something she definitely should not have been ... And the other cat was covering for her! It was like the old lookout in heist movies, the guard standing at the door to make sure that nothing went awry. Sort of like Mr. Orange of Reservoir Dogs, but without all the blood.

It wasn't all that long ago, when our black cat was new to the house, that the Tortie didn't want anything to do with her.

Oh, how times change!

Hissy Fit

2008-11-14T16:35:00.005-05:00

You wouldn't think that a high school boy would just let loose and throw a hissy fit, but that's totally what happened today ...

All I wanted to do was have a nice, structured little review session for an upcoming test, but no, I had to be interrupted ... Over and over and over ... By the same kid and his stupid iPod headphones ...

So, I took them. No big deal, really.

I must confiscate at least one item per day, so I've got a system now: Just calmly walk over, hold my hand out for contraband object and/or nuisance, and place it safely in my desk drawer until the end of the day. Usually this goes by without a hitch and the student sits quietly and sadly, mentally kicking him/herself for getting caught.

This time, something different happened ...

"I'm going to get those back TODAY!" I hear him shout.

Seriously. Just like that. "TODAY!"

If he were standing, he probably would have stomped his foot for emphasis.

Wonderful.

So, class finally ends, he leaves, and I begin to get ready for the last period of the day ... Until he shows up again.

"Can I have my headphones back?" He asks, as if some time has actually passed.

"No," I say without really looking up. He shouldn't have been messing around in the first place.

Somewhat unexpectedly, his volume raises from one to one hundred and he launches into a tirade about how I write out referrals for gum chewing, pen chewing (not true, but it made me chuckle), and every other little thing that he feels is acceptable for a student to do in class. He tells me how terrible I am, how I'm unfair, and mean, and rude, and unreasonable.

And then he screams. Literally. Screams.

"GIVE ME BACK MY HEADPHONES NOW!"

I just sit there, stunned at my desk, and shrug. "Sorry," I reply timidly as his friend has to drag him from the classroom before things really get out of hand. I'm glad for it, because at least he's out of my room. I'm oddly not afraid of any of these emotional kids, and it's not that Mr. Temper Tantrum is a big kid, but he'd probably be pretty scrappy in a fight. He'd almost certainly fight dirty.

Once he is gone, all of the students who have been waiting for class to begin are looking at me. I think that they must be waiting for me to burst into tears.

"Are you okay?" One asks, looking at me like I'm some injured animal.

"He wouldn't have been able to hit you," another one says, "I would stopped him before he could try."

"I'm fine," I say, because, really, this sort of thing isn't even that surprising anymore ... As sad as it is, I almost expect it (and this kid is a repeat offender).

With hours having passed between that incident and now, I'm still not sure how I feel about it. On one hand, I'm extremely angry that a student could treat me this way, pretty much without consequence (at least for the weekend because the referral hasn't made it's way to the Principal yet). On the other, the educator in me realizes that Mr. Temper Tantrum's crazed reaction wasn't necessarily directed at me, but rather the culmination of a host of other events that had been weighing him down ... Any psychology or conflict management class will tell you that the confiscation of his headphones was just icing on the woe cake that had been baking all day long.

Even so, this is not how I imagined teaching to be.

What happened to the kids that love to learn? What happened to honors science classes? What happened to expelling a kid after he/she has broken the rules one too many times? What happened to just turning homework in on time?

It's almost enough to make me have a hissy fit.

Artificial Fire

2008-11-13T12:00:00.001-05:00

You'll probably be surprised to hear that scientists aren't positive as to why leaves change color in the autumn ...

Is it because pigments in the leaf (specifically chlorophyll) break down as the weather turns colder?

Is it part of a "bigger picture" of winter preparation for the tree or plant?

Is it a type of bug repellant from aphids that can only see in ultraviolet, blue, and green?

Whatever it is, I could look at fall-colored trees all day.

They are certainly striking this time of year ... Especially when set against a bright, blue sky.

Book Worm

2008-11-12T16:44:00.004-05:00

Early this week, I paid a visit to my local library so that I might borrow some books for school. Once there, something about the crisp air outside, the early darkness, and the perusing down the "science" aisle made me think back to many of my past library adventures ...

In third grade, I remember walking to the library from my elementary school. It was only a couple of blocks away, but it was my first real time getting somewhere by myself. My parents even drew me a map with street names and arrows ...

Also in third grade, I remember huddling around a copy of "Where Did I Come From?" with my friends and learning about the wonders of the male and female anatomy ... And how everything fits together. One of the librarians actually came over and chided us for looking at it. I'll never forget the look on her face when I told her my parents had the same book at home and had allowed me to read it many times over.

Later, maybe in sixth grade, I acquired an obsession with the Titanic and actually went around the library taking every single Titanic-themed book (with pictures) that I could find and piling them on my table to look at. Never getting around to taking them out, I simply followed this routine, over and over, and insisted on creating that same pile (which probably made the librarians crazy). Looking back, I must have felt some sense of accomplishment as the pile shifted from a large one, into two smaller ones: "those books that I did not read yet" to "those that I finished."

Seventh grade began my "Outsiders" obsession, in which I took any S.E. Hinton book that I could find and read it ... Multiple times. This also began the Matt Dillon fangirling that I keep referring to and the hunt for any available VHS that had him in it. Thanks to the library, I got those videos for free! I had a very limited allowance back then.

Much later, in college, I had to venture into the underbelly of the school's library to find sources for my senior thesis. The feeling of being alone between the stacks was both creepy and oddly exciting ... If only the thesis itself had been as fun as the trip for information!

As you can see, I have many fond memories of my time in the library and/or the books that I would read there. My most recent visit to my local library seems to have rekindled all of those fond feelings. I literally found an interesting book, pulled it from the shelf, paged through it for a moment, and then plopped myself down in the middle of the aisle where I promptly lost myself in its pages.

It's been a long time since that has happened ... And after a long day at school, it was a nice experience!

High School Lessons #3

2008-11-07T12:38:00.010-05:00

Lesson #3: Parent/Teacher Conferences can be a good thing

They say that nothing is truly free in this world.

They aren't lying.

I have a "Teacher Free Day" today, so that means no school ... But you better believe that I have earned every single penny (and more) of this paid day off! While I'm only actually in front of the classroom "teaching" students for just under 3.5 hours a day, and my experiences this year have not been nearly as traumatic as those from last year, my job is far from easy.

Being a teacher requires you to be so many things at once: expert, entertainer, motivator, disciplinarian, inspiration, friend ... Although I'm not yet at that stage of my life, I'd have to compare it to being a "temporary parent."

Just when you think you know what you're doing, you realize that you know nothing at all.

Just when you think you've seen everything, something comes as quite a surprise.

Anyway, this "Teacher Free Day" is a reward for making it through two consecutive nights of (oft dreaded) Parent/Teacher Conferences. Despite the blatant lack of parents in attendance (I probably saw just under half of the parents I should have), I think that things went well, and I actually enjoyed myself during each of the 3.5 hour sessions. Of the parents that did show, many were enthusiastic and perfectly pleasant individuals, just the type of parents a teacher hopes for ... And they gave me so much insight as to why their kids act certain ways and just what to do about it in the classroom.

For example, some parents took the "tough love" approach and gave me permission to knock their sons and daughters "upside the head." Others offered their unyielding support and put into words what I've been feeling for months: "You're not there to entertain [the kids], you're there to teach them." One father actually teared up as he described how proud he was of his daughter for achieving straight A's this quarter (and he should be proud, because his daughter is awesome ... I don't know what I'd do without her!).

In every "conference," I gained something useful for the coming months. I gained validation that I'm doing the best that I can on any give day.

I gained perspective.

I wouldn't say that these conferences make me wish that I was back in the classroom instead of enjoying my lovely stress-free Free Day at home ... But I will admit that all of the hand shakes and "thank yous" provide a shock of bright sunshine in a profession that can so easily be dark and stormy. Uphill battle or not, communication (and support!) from parents can really make the difference and give you the energy to keep on going.

Free Days don't hurt either. :)

A Confession ...

2008-11-06T20:31:00.004-05:00

For the record, I don't talk politics ... So, I'm not one to get in a heated debate over a potential President (or Vice President for that matter).

As my previous post implied, I wasn't particularly thrilled with either of my choices this year ... And things haven't been much different in the past. I just can't understand all of the venom that is launched from either side of party lines in defense of a candidate. I mean, we are talking about people here ... Human beings. No human that I know of is infallible ... Not even the Pope (in my mind) and I'm Catholic!

So, this year was no different for me. I tried to research the issues and the proposed policies, keep things to myself, and (finally!) vote. My opinion is my own, I don't expect others to agree with me, and I have no qualms about keeping that information to myself.

What can I say? I'm stubborn ... And a good secret-keeper.

Despite making this point very clear, I don't think that I could count the number of times one student or another has asked me: "So, who did you vote for?" over the past two days since the election.

"I don't talk politics," has been my faithful reply. "Besides, I'm an Independent anyway."

Yet, for some reason, I feel like I can be honest here and say that, in the end, my vote went to John McCain. I admit this because I am troubled by some of the misconceptions and generalizations I see thrown around about those people that didn't vote for Barack Obama.

No, I'm not a Republican robot ... I like to form my opinion issue by issue, not because a group of seasoned politicians dictates what I should believe.

No, I'm not a racist ... I'm extremely excited at the reality of an African-American President. Maybe it will inspire some of my students of minority descent to get off their lazy butts and do something positive for their education and their future!

No, I'm not a Bible thumping pro-lifer ... While I would never abort my own baby (regardless of the circumstance), I believe that others should be able to make their own choices.

No, I'm not driven by fear ... The world today is a scary place, but I have to believe that people are good at their cores and that good will overcome evil. I also think that there is something to be said of "on the job training." While my first teaching job was hell because it was just that, I learned a lot and am a better person for it. Who is to say the Presidency can't function in the same manner?

No, I'm not happy with the status quo ... I agree that it is time for a change!

(Does that cover them all?)

To tell you the truth, I'm just selfish.

When it came down to it, I felt that John McCain would be more friendly to the small business owners (those in the $200,000 and above income range). That friendliness, and resultant lack of taxation, would selfishly help me by allowing my husband to continue his fruitful employment at a small business. There would be no lull in jobs to work on, no layoffs either ... Just gainful employment for the next four years while he returns to school and I rake in a teacher's wage.

That was it.

Honestly, that was the defining bit of information that swung my vote in its particular direction. So, I resent reading in other blogs and various forums, that all of the John McCain voters are inherently bad people ... Or just people that are just so stuck in their tired, old-fashioned ways that they are afraid of something different.

That's not me.

I'm just selfish.

Just Whelmed

2008-11-03T18:06:00.008-05:00

So, I've spent the past two hours searching for information about candidates, issues, levies, and the like in preparation for my visit to the polls tomorrow. Not only have I acquired a headache and the distinct urge to scream and throw myself down the stairs in that short (ha!) amount of time, but I have also found a practical use for the topic of the following movie quote:

"I know you can be overwhelmed, and you can be underwhelmed, but can you ever just be whelmed?" (10 Things I Hate About You)

From this experience in voter education, I believe that being "whelmed" occurs when you are both incredibly overwhelmed and underwhelmed all at the same time (thus, the two cancel each other out). For example, I am extremely overwhelmed with all the propaganda that has been flung in my face lately (seriously, during my two hours of searching, the phone must have rung about five times with requests and reminders to vote for one person or another), but I am also incredibly underwhelmed by the choices laid out before me. It's like the South Park kids choosing between a "giant douche" and a "turd sandwich" for their school mascot ...

Thank God this insanity ends tomorrow ... Sort of.

Young Love

2008-10-29T17:03:00.004-04:00

Before you go any further, I'd just like to add the disclaimer that I don't consider myself to be musically inclined at all. In fact, besides some of my old standbys (that I could listen to over and over again), I probably have horrible taste in music. I believe that my musical tastes are so random because I either fall in love with a beat (Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake it!), or I ignore the music completely and just tune in to the lyrics.

Today, while driving home from work, the most annoyingly poppy, sugary-sweet song came on the radio. I recognized the gaspy voice immediately ... It was none other than David Archuleta (runner up of last season's American Idol). I was tempted to change the channel, but, was pulled in and ended up listening to the words of the song:

Do you ever think when you're all alone
All that we can be, where this thing can go?
Am I crazy or falling in love?
Is it really just another crush?

Do you catch a breath, when I look at you?
Are you holding back like the way I do?
'Cause I've tried and tried to walk away
But I know this crush ain't going away

Now, I'm already dreading the fact that I'm posting the lyrics of an American Idol-related song on this blog ... But something about the song resonated with me and transported me back to late October 1999.

Weird.

Reading the lyrics now, as when I heard them before, I think of my husband and the relationship we forged when we were teenagers.

I was a typical sixteen-year-old, crushing on just about every celebrity with blue eyes and blond hair (and dark-haired, dark eyed Matt Dillon, but that's for another day), so it was really strange being presented with a real dating opportunity in the form of my closest male friend. The thought made me queasy, at first, and my inexperience at dealing with such issues practically ruined things before they began.

It was so hard for me to imagine being anything other than friends, because we got along so well as it was. We could talk about anything together (and did, often spending hours per night on the phone). We found humor in everything ... I don't think another person on this Earth has made me laugh as much or as hard as he has (and does). Even so, we often had those "serious" conversations: What if we did start to date? What would that mean? How would it work? How would we act? Would we last beyond senior year of high school?

While things finally eased from friendship to romantic (and I use the term very loosely because the poor boy barely got to hold my hand) relationship quite easily, I think back now and can recognize all the little obstacles that we had to conquer along the way. There were tears, fights, misunderstandings (and not just of the superficial, teenage variety), but somehow we survived it and are still together almost ten years later. Whether I just came to my senses, or "crumbled and gave in," as he would say, things were just right for us, and still continue to be.

So, back to the song that sparked this entire train of thought ...

In all its teenage glory, it speaks to me as if I'm still that teenager from 1999. I totally feel those lyrics ... I was that person. I asked those questions. I agonized as any typical teenager would and emerged from the situation a better, stronger person.

Things actually worked out.

This is one crush that isn't going anywhere. :)

Warm Fuzzies

2008-10-23T12:00:00.001-04:00

What I wouldn't give to spend just one day of the week as my cats do ...

I think they've got the right idea!

Periodically Awesome

2008-10-21T16:26:00.007-04:00

Although I'm a big complainer, consistently whining about the trials and tribulations of being a teacher and how I'm not sure if I really, truly like it (but who really likes their job, anyway?) ... I have to admit that it does have its amusing moments.

For example (and for your enjoyment), here is a student's answer from a Physical Science quiz that I administered today:

What property did Henry Moseley use to organize the periodic table?

Do you give up?

No, it's not atomic number (really, though, it is) ...

The answer is ...

Wait for it ...

"The awesome property!"

Ha! Awesome!

Fakers

2008-10-20T18:08:00.005-04:00

If you haven't stepped foot in a high school recently, you would be amazed at the things teenagers are thinking up and trying to get away with.

For example, I confiscated not one, but two, cell phones from the same person today. She was sneakily going into her pencil case during class and, as I happened to walk by, I could see her animal print phone inside. Being that there is a strictly and stringently-enforced rule about having cell phones in class (they are absolutely not tolerated), I held out my hand in a very teacher-like gesture and silently waited.

This brought out a string of babbled excuses ...

"I was just checking the time!"

"It's not even on!"

"Let me explain what's going on here ..."

"I need to have the phone," I said, very simply and calmly (you never know what is going to set a teenager off). "It wouldn't be fair to all the other students' whose phones I've had to take."

Instead of just handing over the phone that I had, quite obviously already looked at, she produced a second, different phone from the pencil case and placed it in my hand. This one was silver ... Definitely not the same phone that I had seen initially.

"I need the other phone, the animal print one," I prodded.

Then the waterworks came on.

As it turns out, the students at my school carry what they refer to as "fake" cell phones. These are the phones that they no longer use, yet carry around in hopes that an unsuspecting teacher won't know the difference between the phone that they see and the phone that they are given.

Clever, huh?

Too bad I have eyes ... That work!

And this is not the first time this has happened!

During a previous cell phone debacle, a student gave me his iPod in hopes that I could be "tricked" into believing that's what I really had seen.

Nice try, but sorry.

If only these kids would dedicate this same amount of time and energy preparing for their tests and completing their homework ...

Selective Hearing

2008-10-17T22:26:00.003-04:00

I've probably noticed many times over during the course of our marriage and previous relationship, but, tonight, it was especially apparent that my husband does not listen to a word I say!

There was a fundraiser being thrown for one the teachers that I work with at a local sports' bar. His wife, who has been battling cancer for years, recently had some complications, causing him to go on leave from teaching and ultimately making times tight for their family of four. For a small fee, my husband and I were prepared to make an appearance and enjoy some all you could eat food and all you could drink drinks, as well as a little conversation with my coworkers. As we were leaving the house, I told him (in no uncertain terms) where we were headed.

He nodded as if he understood.

My first clue that he wasn't paying attention was when he made to back out of the driveway and head the wrong direction down our street ...

My second clue was when he moved into a turn only lane to head left, when we simply had to continue straight down the road ...

After nearly being hit by another car during a quick lane change, my third clue presented itself when I kept insisting he head toward the desired street and he continued to harp on why the earlier left had turn would have made arriving at our destination easier ...

Finally on the right track, I (perhaps stupidly) asked him: "Didn't you listen to me when I said where we were headed?"

Glancing sideways at me, and much too quickly for my tastes, he replied: "Nope."

I should be mad, maybe even a little annoyed that my own husband routinely tunes me out ... As if I don't usually know better than him, anyway! Instead I somehow find the humor in all of this.

How does the saying go?

"It's either laugh or cry?"

That sounds about right.

Identity Crisis

2008-10-15T19:17:00.007-04:00

For some reason, even though I've been teaching for over a year now, I often have a hard time describing myself as a teacher.

Maybe it's the fact that I'm very limited in terms of what or how I can teach my content area (due to both a lack of materials and a lack of cooperation by my students), or that I'm not really loving the occupation as a whole (not to sound whiny, but, except for the summers, teaching is a lot of work!). Maybe it's the little nuances like administering student assessments, or writing discipline referrals, or educating myself and honoring Individualized Education Plans, or dealing with other accommodations in the classroom. Maybe it's the various education movements that seemingly put all the power in the students' hands, or the disjointed nature of things that won't allow me to truly plan for anything. Whatever the case, there are many things about teaching that I just don't want to deal with.

Seriously, why can't I just show up each day and teach?

Why do there have to be a million distractions hitting me from every angle, constantly distorting my focus?

On most days, upon meeting new people or seeing old friends from long ago, I'd much rather sit back and talk about my time in the research field. I'd almost rather refer to my past profession and say "when I was a scientist" or "when I was back in the lab" and cut out the science teaching altogether.

Sure, people often respect teachers for the hard work that goes into the field, but it's just not exciting or glamorous ... Not that working in a lab is glamorous either!

I don't really know why it is so easy for me to fall back on my experiences in the lab instead of gush about my time in the classroom. I mean, the lab was certainly not without its problems, yet, on a personal level, I just see myself as being a scientist much more than a teacher. I'm a science person, not necessarily a person that has a deep passion for being an educator and, while I never saw the "big picture" of my lab experiments come to fruition, I felt more accomplishment there than I currently do in the classroom.

I read in a National Association of Science Teachers mailing that a majority of science teachers (something like 80%) leave the field before they've hit their fifth year anniversary. At the rate I'm going, I'm wondering if I'll fall into that category ... I'm only at the beginning of year two! Yikes!

It's disheartening because, maybe three years ago, I was completely excited and optimistic about my prospects as a science teacher. I had these big ideas, these fun plans in my head, and I guess I'm just a little down over the fact that I haven't really gotten to use any of them. Sure, there are brief moments of exhilaration when I can tell that my students "get it," or when their excitement for a project becomes contagious ... It's just that those moments are so few and far between.

Teaching is a calling, plain and simple ...

I think my phone might be on the fritz.

Repetition

2008-10-10T15:00:00.003-04:00

After booking our flights and planting our Colorado vacation firmly in reality, we let our families in on our plans. I was especially excited to tell my parents about our little adventure because I knew that they had honeymooned at a "dude ranch" in Colorado somewhere.

Imagine my surprise when they told me that their honeymoon ranch had actually been just outside of Estes Park!

I'm not sure how they came across the sleepy little town (they didn't have Internet search engines at their fingertips), but it was interesting to think they that had been there just over twenty-five years prior. Of all the hikes and locations to take in, they suggested that we see "Gem Lake."

A serene pool, hidden at the top of a mountain, the lake was crystal clear and cold and (like everything else) absolutely breathtaking.

My Dad has a nearly identical shot from when he made the hike himself. Apparently (or so the story goes) my Mom was "tired" that day and opted to stay behind at the ranch ...

Old Timer

2008-10-09T14:45:00.003-04:00

Almost as magnificent as the mountains it is built upon, The Stanley Hotel was one of the reasons we chose Estes Park as our vacation destination.

The second-most haunted hotel in America (it has been visited multiple times by TAPS ghost hunters) and the location which inspired Stephen King's "The Shining," the internal and external atmosphere of the place did not disappoint.

While we didn't stay there, and opted for a quaint little river lodge instead, we did enjoy our "ghost tour" and, in addition to the rest of its surroundings, would love to visit it again someday.

Into the Woods

2008-10-08T12:00:00.002-04:00

This next photo was taken during the tail end of our trip. We spent that particular day driving across the mountains and into the Colorado River Valley in search of moose and river otters ...

We didn't find either.

What we did find, however, were some very familiar-feeling paths that wound through tall trees and along grassy meadows. The "green-ness" of these trails was reminiscent of the metroparks that are nestled in among the urban areas of our home town ... And that flat, loping land made hiking more fun and less grueling (which was good at the end of our long, yet much too short, week).

The Ground Squirrel

2008-10-07T12:00:00.002-04:00

During our first full day in Estes Park, my husband and I drove into the Rocky Mountain National Park for an "easy" hike. We stopped up at Bear Lake (shown in yesterday's photograph) and walked a nice, semi-paved trail around it. Being that it was October, the off season, we were practically alone ... Just us and nature.

As we rounded a bend, we saw this little guy mulling around in the pine needles:

Being a lover of all animals small and fat, I quickly snapped picture after picture and was astounded when it actually came closer (only a couple feet away) to investigate us.

It took all of my willpower not to scoop it up and stuff it in our backpack ...

Colorado Dreamin'

2008-10-06T10:00:00.002-04:00

Last year at this time, my husband and I were enjoying the gorgeous mountains of Estes Park, Colorado. Planned on a whim during that previous spring, the trip took us farther west than either of us had ever been ... And served as an introduction to air travel for my husband.

In remembrance of that magical and beautiful week (it was just what I needed given my working circumstances last year), I've decided to post a photo each day to commemorate the vacation.

I wish we could have gone back this year!

Someday ...

Mrs. Meanie

2008-10-03T23:02:00.005-04:00

In starting (and in naming) this blog, I wanted to keep the theme that my life is a constant series of lessons. Whether I'm teaching them in the classroom, or learning them from my everyday experiences, I am all too aware that seemingly mundane happenings have a huge impact on my life and, ultimately, who I am as a person.

I've touched upon this before in a previous post, but, today, I've finally accepted that, on a very basic level, I get a strange thrill out of being a goody-two-shoes and getting people in trouble ...

The occupation of "teacher" obviously involves some amount of being in charge and leading a classroom full of students along the path of knowledge ... And when those students choose to ignore the rules, consequences must follow. While I certainly don't enjoy confrontation and (many days) would much rather ignore the problems in my classroom than deal with them head-on, there is just something about having that power and authority that can be intoxicating.

For instance, today, I confiscated three cell phones from three students over the course of the day. At first, I was surprised that these kids actually listened to me and handed over their precious phones. Next, I was somewhat saddened by the dramatic reactions that each student displayed. Then, finally, after some thought, I realized that each student was breaking school rules and, therefore, they all deserved whatever consequences came from their actions. Upon processing that revelation, I became almost giddy ... So much so that, before leaving for the day, I happily announced my accomplishment and was promptly congratulated by my peers.

Teachers need to stick together, you know.

Later, as I recounted the story to my husband, he looked at me and said: "You know, you've always been a little like that. Finding pleasure in getting rule-breakers in trouble."

My first instinct was to stick up for myself and say,"No! I'm so much nicer than that!" but, the truth is, I'm really not ... My husband is absolutely, one hundred percent right: I do like getting rule-breakers in trouble!

I have a long history of it.

On one occasion during my late high school/early college years, I ratted out my own sister because she had her friends and their boyfriends spend the night while my parents were out of town. Yes, this caused my sister to despise me and seek revenge for many years, but never once did I regret it. I did the right thing. I told the truth. My parents deserved that much ... I deserved that much for being a good daughter for many, many years and following the rules!

So, call me Mrs. Meanie from now on ... I can take it. I think I'm finally coming to terms with my goody-goody nature and actually embracing it. It's funny that I come home some days and wonder why I ever decided to be a teacher, and others I get the eerie realization that maybe it's a much better fit that I think it is.

Maybe my student from last year (we'll call him Casper) was right.

Subconsciously, I became a teacher so that I could write detentions.

Picture Day

2008-09-29T16:59:00.006-04:00

Today was picture day at my school and I feel like I have worked a full week (rather than a single day).

While it was nice not having to remind students to tuck in their shirts, or take off their big, dangly earrings, or put on their "school appropriate" footwear, the change from uniforms to personally chosen attire turned both their energy and noise levels up a few notches. Being a science-minded individual, I don't want to jump to conclusions and declare a mere correlation to be a causal relationship ... But I don't think I can take another school-wide dress down/up day!

So much for repeating the data ...

High School Lessons (#2)

2008-09-26T16:27:00.005-04:00

If any other high school science teachers out there stumble upon this blog, this post is for you.

(You can thank me later ...)

Lesson #2: Tenth graders LOVE Bill Nye the Science Guy

Being that today is Friday, and we were basically wrapping up our latest chapter in preparation for a test next week anyway, I found a Bill Nye video at the library and decided to use it in class today. Not only would it take up 26 minutes out of my 50 minute period, it would change things up a bit ... My students have been doing a lot of "independent study" lately, which is basically just them reading at their seats and filling in answers on a worksheet.

I have only used a Bill Nye video once at my previous school and, for some unfathomable reason, the age group it targeted (middle school kids) seemed to think it was "dumb" and "stupid." Let's just say that is most definitely not the case with high-schoolers ...

From the second I announced that we'd be watching a video, I was bombarded with: "Is it Bill Nye the Science Guy?!"

This surprised me a little bit (I know that I've always liked Bill Nye but I had no idea he had a teen aged following), but the response to my answer of "yes" was even more unexpected. The cheer that erupted from the room was so loud, you would have thought that I had just given the entire class the next week off! And then, when the video started, all was quiet ... That is, until the theme song started up. There was bopping in the seats, shouts of "Bill! Bill!" in time with the music, and genuine giddiness and laughter as the video progressed. It's almost hard to imagine a student in this age group laughing at something that isn't filled with sexual innuendo, but they were.

They were loving it.

The act of watching this particular video sort of stripped away some of their "I'm-too-cool-for-everything" layers and they began acting like the kids they truly are underneath all those walls and reputations ... It was nice to look around the room and see them entranced by the video, heads propped up on elbows, eyes focused on the TV. It was nice to see kids filling my classroom, not mini-adults as they often pretend to be.

But, ultimately, it was nice to have a little reminder (after a long week) as to why I really do like working with this often volatile, always unpredictable age group.

The Warrior

2008-09-24T17:30:00.005-04:00

I was all set to compose a long, rant of a post about why high school students don't really need cell phones (and the drama that inevitably comes with them), when I sat down at the computer and found my husband's notebook laying out ... He is currently taking an online Introductory Education course, a requirement for his degree of choice.

On the top page, written neatly in his cursive handwriting, was a brief note about someone named "Ruby Payne." Having gone through an education curriculum myself as I prepared to become a teacher a couple years ago, I was surprised that I had never heard of her.

Apparently, she said:

"People in poverty have three driving forces: relationships, entertainment, and survival."

Although I'm not teaching at an inner-city school anymore, I am still dealing with a lot of students who live at or near the poverty level, so this statement rings incredibly true for me. If I had to think about it, and categorize all of my day-to-day complaints, they probably would fall under one of those three forces.

Relationships. My students feel the need to talk (or communicate ... Hence the postponed rant about cell phones) to each other constantly. In the halls or during class, to other students or teachers like me, it really doesn't make much difference ... If someone is in earshot of them, they will make their voices heard! While talking about science is always welcome in my classroom, these kids aren't interested in that. They want gossip, stories from friends, or just that personal connection to another human being. I even have a student that, instead of sitting in his seat during study hall, gradually wanders out toward the doorway, presumably to chat with any of his buddies that happen to pass by during that fifty minute period.

Entertainment. Each day, at least one student will ask me: "Are we doing something fun today?" They want to be entertained. Unfortunately for them, our definitions of "fun" are quite often very different ... And they end up bored instead. These kids can't sit still for five, let alone fifty, minutes at a time, so they demand a good performance if they are going to behave like decent human beings. Even though I'm no stranger to the stage (I'm a drama geek through and through), I'm not exactly used to turning flips and using funny voices to keep their attention. It's, sadly, not uncommon to "lose them" to talking (see Relationships) every now and then. I'm pretty adaptable, so I've found that visual things (like demonstrations, hand gestures, my pacing around the room like a caged tiger) tend to hold their attention more than if I just speak to them from the front of the class. One of these days I should throw myself across the floor to keep things interesting ...

Survival. As much as it pains me to say it, many of my students do not care about science (or school for that matter). It just doesn't apply to them. It doesn't hold any value ... They don't think they are going to college, anyway. Students are simply there in their seats because they have to be. They don't participate. They don't review or study. Rather than try to excel (or, oftentimes, just try), they simply get through the day with as little effort as possible, so that they can go home and move on with their lives. This perceived misuse of their time and talent breeds apathy, and apathy often results in missing work ... Even work that is done together during class somehow fails to reach my desk.

Thanks to Ms. Payne, I have a better understanding as to why my students do the things they do. On some level, they can't help it. It is a part of who they are ... But that doesn't make things any less troubling.

Being a teacher and trying to inspire a generation of kids that think completely differently than yourself is, at best, an uphill battle. Some days I am up to the challenge ... Others, I just don't think that I'm strong enough to even make a dent in the front lines.

Fruits of Fall

2008-09-22T16:55:00.006-04:00

This weekend, my husband and I spent the afternoon at a local apple orchard for its annual "Johnny Appleseed Festival." Both of us have always loved the fall season and everything that it brings, so little "excuses" to go out (like this festival) are a welcome thing for self-proclaimed homebodies like us.

It didn't hurt that it was an absolutely gorgeous day ... Blue sky, bright sun, crisp autumn air ... All the things that fall should be.

Anyway, as we spent our time wandering through the outdoor crafting booths, sampling food, and picking some fresh apples (like the ones shown above ... yum!) to take home, we couldn't help but muse over how nice it would be to do something like this "as a family" one day.

Yes, we are our own little family (complete with two, lazy cats), but it was all too easy to smile and nudge each other as we watched the little glimpses of our would-be future unfold around us ... Young couples pushing strollers, fathers escorting their pig-tailed daughters through hay mazes, mothers chasing their wobbly-legged toddlers as they took off down the hillside ...

I don't think I'm the only one thinking about babies now.

(I knew he'd come around!)

High School Lessons (#1)

2008-09-19T22:20:00.006-04:00

I've been back at school for a full month, and I've been meaning to post a new "lesson" for some time now. Unfortunately, inspiration (and a moment to myself and my thoughts) has been in short supply.

In thinking of something to get this particular type of post started again, one exchange between myself and an Earth Science student stuck out in my mind.

Lesson #1: The more things change, the more they stay the same

While helping students with group work one day, a student (out of the blue) looked at me and said: "You think we're crazy, don't you?"

Puzzled, I walked over to her. "Why would you say that?" I asked.

"You just have this look on your face sometimes," she replied with a shrug.

This got me to thinking. First of all, it's not a good thing that my face has already given my thoughts away, and second, I find my students and their odd behaviors to be amusing rather than crazy ... Most of the time, anyway.

I guess it's just that these kids (all too often) remind me of me and my high school experience. Even though it's just over ten years from the time that I was in their position, things are almost exactly the same as I remember them. While the high school isn't composed of all-girls (as I was used to), the similarities are staggering.

I see the same cliques ... The smart kids, the slackers, the sports stars, the drama geeks , the musicians, the popular crowd ... There are the same complaints about uniforms, the distance between classes and lockers, the food being served for lunch, the length of the school day, and the amount of homework that is being assigned. There are the same clubs and activities, and there is a buzz of excitement at the mention of school dances. I've even noticed that there are the same types of teachers ... The strict ones, the goofy ones, the understanding ones, the scary ones, and even the ones that don't seem to "get it."

Yes, many of the dynamics that I remember are alive and well, only I'm looking at them from the opposite direction. On one hand, I feel extremely tired and just plain old being around these teenagers. On the other, the end of the day causes my own high school memories to come flooding back ...

And, if I turned out to be a well-adjusted, productive adult, there is hope for each one of my students!

Insert Evil Laughter Here

2008-09-18T16:44:00.000-04:00

Today was a big day in my life as a teacher ...

I wrote out my first disciplinary referrals at my new school!

When you have two students using your markers as flying weapons of death, the decision is practically made for you ... In fact, sometimes, in the dull existence of an educator, that is just the thing to really get your day going.

I guess (on some level) I must enjoy it, because, at my previous school, I actually had a student tell me that the only reason I became a teacher was so that I could "give him detentions."

Well, no, not exactly ... But that thought really is an interesting one, isn't it?

The Occassional Gardener

2008-09-17T17:52:00.004-04:00

During the summer, I would go so far as to say that I hate (hate hate) working in the garden.

The following are among my list of complaints:

It's too hot and I hate sweating.
I don't want other people to see me squatting down or bending over in my "work shorts" (which may or may not be a little too short).
The dirt gets in my fingernails (which really aren't that long to begin with) and remains there all day no matter how many times I wash my hands.
There are bees and other bugs that dive-bomb me.
It's a pain to keep unwinding and winding the hose, and attaching and detaching the sprinkler.
The next door neighbor's cat often leaves little poopy "presents" for me, that I loathe cleaning up ... It's not my cat!
The plants always look dead anyway (I wonder why!?) so I don't ever feel like I've accomplished anything.

While I could go on and on and really mean each one of them, all of these things seem to change the moment September rolls around. For some reason, after that point, all I want to do is dedicate my time to gardening. For instance, last weekend I planted flowers ... Perennials, new and old, were split, plucked, moved, and replanted throughout my front and back yards. Then, last night, I actually took the initiative and mowed the front yard, something I usually pawn off on my husband.

I don't know what it is about the fall ...

Maybe it's because the summer heat is fading and everything, for once, looks green and healthy and vibrant. Maybe it's because I like the idea of having a "fresh start," a time each year where the problems of the past are erased and whatever I do now can actually impact next year's appearance. Maybe it's because I want an excuse from grading papers.

Whatever it is, I wish I had this type of motivation all year round!

Playing Favorites

2008-09-11T16:28:00.002-04:00

Students just love to tell you that you are their all-time favorite teacher. While this sentiment does make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, I have learned to take it with a grain of salt.

Case in point:

As I was circulating around the room today, helping students with the independent study assignment (basically reading the chapter and answering questions on a worksheet) that they were working on, one of the boys waved me over with a question.

After we solved his problem, he smiled up at me and said, "You know? You are my favorite teacher this year."

Thanking him (and reminding him to keep working ... Flattery does not exempt you from finishing the classwork assignment), I turned to go on with my circulating when I heard a friend of his whisper, "That's what you said to Miss P. in English last period."

At least I'm in the top two. :)

Stratocumulus

2008-09-09T19:14:00.006-04:00

You know that fall is absolutely around the corner when you wake up to gray skies and rain and leave work to blue skies and sun.

I could sit around and look at the clouds all day ... Besides, it's good practice for when I need to teach this stuff to my Earth Science students.

Getting Older

2008-09-05T18:18:00.004-04:00

My students have gotten over their "first week jitters" and are now more comfortable with talking to me. Before one of my classes began yesterday, one of my girls was curious as to how old I was.

"How old do you think I am?" I asked, instead of giving up the goods.

It's always interesting to play this little game. Sometimes you're pleasantly surprised by what a teenager thinks ... Other times, not so much ...

She looked at me, wrinkled her button nose, and thought for a minute. "I'd say you're about twenty," was her eventual reply.

Twenty! :)

I was still in college at twenty.

I doubt she really took the time to do the math ... But it made my day nonetheless!

(Especially since I'll be turning twenty-six tomorrow.)

Balancing Act

2008-09-04T19:07:00.008-04:00

I find that, as a teacher, I must walk a fine line between being either a "friend" or an "authority figure" to my students. No matter how hard I try, it seems that one designation wins out over the other and, ultimately, complicates the year.

During my first year of teaching (with 5-8th graders) I fell into playing the "friend" role and was promptly squashed. I found that, in my urban situation, it just didn't work for the younger kids. They just didn't seem to understand the concept of getting respect by giving respect ... They expected to be treated fairly with no regard for how they treated me. Which, to their credit, was probably a familiar way of life to them ... I can only imagine how things were run at home. So, I resigned to let the year be as it was and I told myself that when I found a new job and got a fresh start, I would begin from scratch and make sure that I demanded the respect of my students ... Even if it meant that I had to be "unfriendly" sometimes.

Ha! Let's just say that's much easier said than done ...

Within the first two days of school this year, I had a student (we'll call her *Natasha) tell me that I was her favorite teacher ... Within two days! Natasha is in my final and largest class of the day, an Earth Science class. By seventh period, these students are bursting at the seams, ready to go home and begin their afternoon of freedom ... So, although their behavior is an improvement from the horrors of last year, they are far from "good" for the entire fifty minutes. Natasha is definitely among the talkers, but she follows directions when I ask and genuinely seems to want to do well in my class and hold up her end of the "respect bargain."

Then, there is *Katie from my earlier Earth Science class. She gives me "high fives" in the hallway and talks to me about her "crazy Polish family" during study hall. She, unlike Natasha, listens in class and just seems to want that closer connection, which is fair, since she is part of a small school environment. Who am I to deny her that?

I have always felt that being a teacher requires knowing your students and their individual needs and forming some sort of bond with them ... And my favorite teachers were the ones who did just that ...

Even so, I am tormented by the fact that I've begun to squander my "fresh start." I can see it slowly slipping through my fingers. I'm quickly taking on that "friend" role and becoming the teacher that everyone likes ... Which can be fine, but, do they respect me? It really only takes a couple occasions to establish that authority role, to show them that you are serious and mean business ... So my year is not too far gone if I wish to change the way my classroom is run.

It is just so incredibly hard to strike that balance!

(Again, names have been changed ... and will continue to be ... so that a mere google search will not unveil my secret identity)

Mid-week Exhaustion

2008-09-03T19:48:00.007-04:00

I was looking through my photos from the summer the other day and I came across the album I put together after my husband and I spent a day at the local zoo.

This one seems to sum up how I'm feeling right about now:

That little creature is a rock hyrax (evolutionary cousin of the elephant, if you can believe it). Much like myself after a full day of teaching, it has collapsed in its tracks, completely tired and dehydrated from the heat of the afternoon.

I can't wait for "fall weather" to finally head our way. Days that reach upwards of 85 degrees in the beginning of September are no picnic ... Especially in a stuffy, non-air conditioned classroom where air flow is nonexistent.

Confirmation

2008-08-29T22:27:00.004-04:00

I've been teaching at my school for one whole week.

The house is a mess. The bathroom sink is littered with random toiletries, toothpaste crust, hair from my head and from our cats, and is in dire need of a good scrubbing. Dirty clothes are stacking up, spilling over the sides of our upstairs laundry basket like something out of "The Blob." The master bedroom is a mess, the bed is often unmade and clean clothes are stacked at the foot of the bed and on top of our respective dressers (why they are not inside the drawers, I couldn't tell you). The living room is disheveled and the daily newspapers are creating quite a pile on our coffee table. Place mats from our dinners in front of the TV haven't been put away. The dining room table is unusable. There is more crap on there than I'd like to reveal. The kitchen (like the bathroom) is in need of a good scrubbing. There are dirty dishes in the sink, and clean ones on the counter. The white tile floor isn't so white anymore ...

I am incredibly tired. I find myself falling into bed at 9:00 pm and still not getting enough sleep. Waking at 6:15 is nothing like I have ever done (consistently) before. I can barely make it into the shower and the cold water still doesn't jostle my sleepy mind into alertness. God help me when I begin bearing children!

Quality time with my husband has become limited. I am preoccupied with getting things done for school, and he has started his next semester of course work at the community college. He jokes that we are mere "roomies" instead of a real married couple. I'm embarrassed that there's a lot of truth to that.

The point of all this?

Despite the fact that my world is just bursting at the seams ... In need of some real attention ... I am a million times happier, and more at ease today, than I was last year at this time.

Thank God for small miracles!

(And, hang in there, Love, we have a long weekend coming up!)

Three Days

2008-08-25T17:47:00.003-04:00

So, I have been teaching my my new school for three whole days.

While it feels like three whole years (it is absolutely crazy how time passes inside of a school building), I actually find myself having some really positive things to say! But, then again, in comparison to the atrocity that was my first year, I don't think it is physically possible for another school to reach that level of bad.

This year, instead of going nonstop from 8:20 until 2:45, I am teaching two science classes (Physical Science and Earth Science) with two sections each and monitoring a study hall filled with a whopping three students. That's five class periods for those of you doing the math ... Five class periods out of a seven-class day! That means I have two planning periods where I can diligently plan ahead for the upcoming weeks, or kick back and enjoy the moment (as has been the case the past couple of days). Who would have guessed that normal teaching jobs actually include some down time!?

Also, as I mentioned a couple of posts back, all of my fellow teachers and administrators are absolutely great to work with. No one is domineering or scary, and, most importantly, I am able to do my job with very little interruption or unnecessary scrutiny. In the two or so times that the principal has come into my classes to make sure all is well, she has not made me feel like a child. If anything, she is more concerned over my needs than she has to be: Always asking how things are going and/or if I need anything. Instead of making me frustrated, this leaves me feeling supported ... And valuable.

But, probably most amazingly, the kids have been very well-behaved and cooperative. It was actually sort of unnerving on the first day when I was going over the class rules and noticed, to my complete shock, that I had eyes on me. Just about every kid in the room was looking at me ... It made me feel a bit paranoid ... Was there something in my teeth? Did I have toilet paper trailing from the back of my pants or something? Was my fly down!? Nope, they were just actually listening ... You could have heard a cricket in the room, they were so quiet. Being that I'm much more used to shouting over multiple conversations and seeing the backs of heads (certainly not the fronts), I was almost at a loss for what to do. Let's hope it continues!

Overall, I'm just happy that my leap of faith (and holding out and vowing not to go back to my previous school) actually paid off. Thank you to those of you that encouraged me and kept me going during my summer of solitude! :)

Too Early

2008-08-21T06:48:00.005-04:00

It is unprecidented that I'm actually sitting at this computer before 10:00 am ... Let alone composing a blog post!

Today is my first day of class as a high school science teacher and I wanted to make sure I gave myself plenty of time to get ready, eat breakfast, and then arrive at school. Well, mission accomplished. I probably could have slept for an extra twenty minutes!

Things are shaping up to be a little bit crazy. We teachers have not received our class lists and students' names yet, and the students have not received their schedules. Luckily, I don't have a first period class to worry about, and my new science tables showed up (and were assembled) yesterday ... Both good things because I would be running around like a crazy person, and have kids sitting on the floor!

I'm definitely not as anxious as this year begins (last year I was physically sick just about every morning from mid-August to December), but I did just eat a moldy peice of blueberry crumb cake ... That might indicate that something is not quite right with my frame of mind.

Or I'm just still really tired.

Psychology 101

2008-08-19T12:00:00.001-04:00

This past weekend, I spent a little bit of time with my parents and some of their college friends. Since their graduations in the early eighties, this group has gotten together at least once a year to kick back and basically have a good time. Over the years, their friendships evolved into something closer, something more family-like, so my siblings and I consider these friends to be more like extended family ... Aunts and uncles, if you will.

Anyway, before everyone started preparing to go home, a conversation was held that revolved around my middle sister. Phrases like "her smile lights up a room" and "she's a beautiful girl, absolutely stunning" were flying left and right.

This got me to thinking ... What about me??

I'm perfectly happy with who I am as a person, but I started to wonder: Is my self-perception directly related to hearing statements like the ones listed above? Do I, currently, see myself as being quite average physically because no one ever complimented me on my smile or stunning beauty?

Thinking back, I don't think I was ever referred to as "pretty" when I was growing up (at least not excessively). I was skinny, freckled (as I have mentioned before), bespectacled, and something of a tomboy. My hair was always on the shorter side, certainly not long and flowing like the sister in question. I didn't care, though, I had it in my head that I was pretty anyway and, even better, I was smart. That word, smart, would probably be the one I'd throw out there if a psychologist asked me to pick a word to describe myself ... Pretty would be at the end of the list ... But I'd also venture a guess that that's what I heard the most of growing up:

"Look at Emily, lost in that book. She's such a smart girl."

"Ask Em. I'm sure she'd know the answer to that."

"Emily is getting straight A's again this quarter."

You get the idea.

Most compliments from my parents and/or other adults revolved around my brain. While that's just fine ... I like being perceived as smart ... I find it very interesting that it's carried over and embedded itself into my thinking. When with my sisters, I never feel like the "pretty one." I'm a little more self conscious and end up secretly wishing I had cooler, more trendy clothes and/or accessories and a better hair cut. I'm just Emily, the frumpy (but very smart) one. In fact, I think I only truly feel pretty when I'm away from my family ... When it's just my husband and me, or us and his family. He says I'm pretty, beautiful even, and he's seen my sisters. It's enough to give a girl an ego.

Very weird.

I'm not quite sure of my reason for this post ... The conversation this past weekend just jumped out at me and felt very blog-worthy. I like to think that I'm so independent and completely immune to what others say or think about me, but that really can't be farther from the truth. If my self-perception has been molded (unwittingly) by my parents and the other adults around me as I was growing up, I've really got to be careful when I get a couple kids of my own.

I want them all to be pretty or smart or athletic or sociable or whatever it is they want to be ... Even if they end up with freckles and glasses and a mouthful of braces.

The Blame Game

2008-08-18T10:03:00.002-04:00

During one of my many weekend internet putzing sessions, I came across this article.

Not only was I horrified to read that an eighth grader was killed simply for being gay (sadly, this is a tragedy that is becoming all-too-common), I was also completely and utterly confused at his parents' reactions.

Instead of directing their anger and frustration at the child that killed their son, they are focusing their attention squarely on the school district (and its administration and teachers) for not enforcing the dress code. They are blaming them for not doing something when their child showed up to school in feminine clothing and make-up.

Wait ... What?

Why is this the school's responsibility?

Why couldn't these parents take a moment each morning to make sure their son didn't leave the house in something overtly feminine? Why couldn't they enforce that he wait until after school to apply whatever make-up he enjoyed wearing?

As a teacher, it boggles my mind that, whenever anything goes wrong between the hours of 8:00 am and 3:00 pm, I am automatically to blame. Violence and school shootings aside (I believe that precautions need to be taken before something terrible happens), I'll certainly take credit where credit is due ... For the good or the bad. Unfortunately, it seems like, more and more, teachers are on the receiving end of excessive fingerpointing. That's not to say that some don't deserve it ... There are definitely some nasty educators out there ... But this trend of "when in doubt, blame a teacher" is very troublesome. Teachers are no longer being seen as authority figures or people to be respected (by their students, and, often, by their parents, as well). Instead, they are quickly evolving into scapegoats.

Let me tell you, it's hard enough to teach pre-teens and teenagers about the wonders of science, let alone lecture them in taking responsibility for their actions (or lack thereof) when their parents haven't yet mastered the concept. The things I do in a classroom will only go so far if there isn't any reinforcement at home ...

The parents in this article are obviously hurting, going through something so agonizing and unwarranted, and I certainly feel for them. I just wish that they could take a step back from their current position and think about how they (personally) could have aided in the situation. If they knew that their child had certain tendencies and vulnerabilities, why didn't they do something about it? Isn't that a parent's "job?"

Why is it automatically the school's issue, while they, too, sat back and did nothing?

Maybe I will never fully understand.

Serenity Now

2008-08-15T20:15:00.007-04:00

With my new school year quickly approaching, I feel like I hardly have the time to stop and take a breath. Perpetually in motion, I'm rushing around to get my room ready, assemble my students' supplies, and just orient myself to the school and all the people in it.

This photo was taken during my in-law's vacation extravaganza last week, yet it feels like forever ago.

It's funny how time can move at a snail's pace, then quickly accelerate to something much faster. Hopefully, by posting this photograph here, it will remind me (and you?) that we all need to take a moment to just breathe every now and again ... To just be and enjoy all the simple things that can be so easily missed.

The Newbie

2008-08-14T21:03:00.004-04:00

Thankfully, I've never had the burden of being the "new kid" at school.

No matter what school I attended ... Be it elementary/middle school, high school, or college ... I enrolled and then completed each span of learning without incidence. I was never transferred or otherwise removed from the people that I had grown accustomed to being with. I wasn't plopped into an entirely new educational situation, not knowing a soul, while everyone else had had the time to develop lasting bonds of friendship before I'd arrived.

I have taken enough jobs in my life to know that there is always an entry period of learning the ropes and making acquaintances, yet it seems so much stronger in a school setting. As my first week at my new school comes to a close, I am trying to shake off that "new kid" feeling. About half of the teachers at the school were around for its inaugural year (last year) and have obviously built bonds through their shared struggles and triumphs. The rest of the faculty, the other "new kids," came on weeks, if not months ago. I was tacked on to the roster just this week, the newest new employee of all, and it's very hard to shake that nagging feeling that I'm the odd man (woman) out.

Am I being annoying?

Am I asking too many questions?

Am I trying too hard and talking too much?

Am I coming across as stiff or awkward? Standoffish or stuck-up?

While I am, technically, in high school again, I feel like I'm back in high school.

Deep down, I'm the same awkward girl who could blend in with the athletes, the drama geeks, the honor students, and even (surprisingly, at times) the cool kids ... If I could do it as a freckled, brace-faced, glasses-wearing late bloomer, I can do it now (as a freckled, straight-toothed, contact-wearing twenty-something).

I guess the real issue is going to be getting the students to like me ...

Back in Business

2008-08-13T19:00:00.001-04:00

During my week of absence, I not only relaxed heartily during my family's vacation ... I also accepted a job at a nearby charter school.

Yes, that's right, I am no longer unemployed and aimlessly wandering around my house!

While this isn't the job that I had dreamed of early this spring, it is a high school position, and I believe it will allow me to improve upon my current teaching skills. The school is just starting out (it only has ninth and tenth grades), but the administration and the group of teachers that I will be working with, are full of positive attitude and wonderful ideas. I'm thoroughly enjoying the fact that I'm no longer the only science teacher, and that I have another individual to bounce issues, concerns, and ideas off of.

More will be coming on this, but right now I'm still reeling from the realization that I'll have somewhere to be every weekday ...

And scrambling to put some lesson plans together!

Taking Inventory

2008-07-31T10:00:00.001-04:00

I just looked back and realized that I've been blogging since the middle of March ... How crazy!

Even after all those months, I'm still not quite sure that I have "the hang of it" yet. I mean, part of me bemoans the lack of comments and wonders if I'm just that boring or inconsequential that no one feels compelled to respond. Then, the other part of me writes each blog entry and thinks: "Gosh, I hope that no one reads this!" It's like I want the recognition and the validation that what I'm doing is making some sort of difference, but I also want to fly under the radar.

I guess, you can't really have it both ways.

Anyway, to those of you that do routinely read my ramblings, thanks for sticking around! My sitemeter actually shows me that some of you come back ... On a consistent basis (!?), no less ... So I must be doing something right.

Hopefully, once (if?) I land a job for the fall, and get back into the swing of teaching, I'll have more stories and worthwhile anecdotes to share. Right now, the wells are pretty much dried up and I'm chugging along without much inspiration, but I do enjoy the challenge and coming up with something every now and again. I'll be gone all next week with the in-laws, so maybe I can accumulate some material there ...

Rise and SHINE!

2008-07-30T13:21:00.007-04:00

Why is it so hard to find a good (insert choice word here) these days?

I have heard that statement ring true for many things over the years: a man, a pair of jeans, a television sitcom, a steak, a job ... But, right now, the good thing that I'm looking for is a dual alarm clock.

My husband and I have been using his old alarm clock since we got married, and he used it for many years before that. It is obviously a hand-me-down, and it has seen better days ... But it works. You can't fault it for working. However, with us both waking up at different times on weekday mornings, it just makes sense to "update" and get something that will only have to be set once, rather than pressing our luck each morning as the alarm is groggily set for the second, and third (my husband has a weird morning routine) time.

The main problem here is not the clock itself, or even the features that the clock must have to be considered a good purchase. We are easy with that. The problem comes in the display itself ... No, too big or too small is not an issue either (I can't see anything that's more than in inch in front of my face without my glasses, anyway) ... The problem is the brightness with which the numbers are illuminated.

I have found, in all my years of alarm clock using, that red numbers are the only way to go. Green numbers are like having a neon sign next to your head and blue numbers are like the reflected rays of the sun as they would appear under an inch of crystal Caribbean water.

So, why on earth would I agree to getting a blue-numbered alarm clock?

"It has a dimmer feature," he said. "It should be just fine," he assured me.

Not so much.

Even with the dimmer turned on, half of our bedroom was lit up like the streets of Las Vegas! We actually had to cover the thing up in order to get to sleep ... It was seriously that bright. What kind of light bulbs are in these things, anyway?

Maybe I'll have to just break down and buy the red-numbered clock I saw online and shell out the $5 shipping cost. Yes, it will be more than if I just purchased it in the store (where it seemingly does not exist), but if we must update to a dual alarm, it might as well be something that we can live with.

Bittersweet-ness

2008-07-28T18:55:00.003-04:00

I spoke with one of the other teachers from my former school today.

I was sort of pressured into it, since she called late last week while I was away and left a message in which she said: "I heard it through the grapevine that you aren't coming back next year. Why didn't you tell me? You could have told me. You should have told me ..."

I pretty much knew this call would come sooner or later.

She was right, I should have called her, but I just feel sort of silly calling to tell her I'm not coming back even though I have yet to find another job. That sort of "leap" just isn't like me, and probably speaks volumes as to how unhappy I truly was at that school. She'd never say it, but I think she sees my coming and going in a year as a proverbial "slap in the face." She's been there for more than 25 years, so why can't I (a "good" teacher, as she has described me) just stick it out until I actually find something else?

The sixth grade science position has been a revolving door for the past three years ... And I just helped it to spin around one more time.

Anyway, the conversation went by quickly and painlessly. She wasn't mad or disappointed as the tone of her phone message had suggested. I suppose that she's just the type of person who wants to know what's going on in my life and if it will still intertwine with what's going on in hers.

But, there is a point to all of this ...

During our conversation, I found myself asking about "my kids."

Which ones have registered for the upcoming year? Which ones are not returning? How did they do in summer school? I was oddly sad to hear her mention them by name, and realize that I will probably never see them again. There will be no more stories and jokes on Monday mornings ... No more discussions about bodily functions during Health class ... No more PG-13 (even though they are still too young) movies before holidays or vacations ... No more trips to the "prize box" filled with dollar store goodies ... No more chaos or gossip before the Tuesday and Thursday tutors show up ...

Ten years from now, will any of them even remember me? Will they think back of me positively and see that I was actually trying to help them? To teach them more than just science?

I hope that they will.

Three Years

2008-07-23T10:00:00.001-04:00

It's been three years and I'm still happily married.

I'm not surprised, really. I had a feeling that things would work out this way after our first, yet unofficial, date.

I was sitting at home, bored one summer evening and he called me.

"Do you want to go out and do something?" He eventually asked. "Grab something to eat? Catch a movie?"

At this point, we were merely friends (as I had the tendency to constantly remind him), and I knew he had other intentions. I didn't want to encourage him by going out, one-on-one, but I was really hungry and there was nothing good to eat in the house ...

"I guess we could," I said, as nonchalantly as humanly possible.

"Really?" There was a pause, like he hadn't expected me to take him up on the offer. "Okay ... I'll pick you up in twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes was about the time it took for him to drive from his house to mine. I certainly didn't need any time to get ready or primp or anything ... We were going out as friends. Strictly friends. No big deal. No need to actually look nice or anything.

When he showed up at my house, I was on the front porch waiting for him. I walked over to his parents' car (he had his license, but no car of his own) and got in. "Where to?" I asked.

He had it all planned out. He was taking me to a casual little restaurant that his parents used to take him to. It was movie themed (right up his alley) and everything had a catchy, if not corny, name. It wasn't much of a "hot spot," that evening, so we were seated in a cushy little booth right away. There was a piano player providing music and everything ... The mood was light. As always, we were having a good time.

We ordered our food: a "Humphrey Bogart" for him and some chicken fingers for me.

Things were going well (the conversation, the company, the food ) until the piano started a rousing rendition of The Entertainer. If you know this piece of music, you know that it starts slowly and builds and builds, getting faster and faster and faster until it just cuts off and stops altogether.

I found it to be an interesting choice of dinner music and made the comment: "This makes me want to start shoving food in my mouth," as I quickly brought the chicken fingers up to my face, one after the other, pretending to scarf them down.

Finding this particularly amusing, he agreed and we laughed and laughed as the song continued to play. Not more than five minutes after it had ended, he excused himself and disappeared into the men's room ... He was feeling sick.

Apparently, the laughter and the "Humphrey Bogart" didn't mix.

As I waited for him in the bathroom, our server brought the bill and I started going through my purse to find my part of the dinner.

A good fifteen minutes or so later, and he returned, looking pale and miserable. He apologized, and dug into his wallet, too, so that we could get out of there. Well, wouldn't you know, he was short on cash! In his excitement to get out of the house for our "date," probably with minimal questions, he didn't grab money.

He looked over at me sheepishly. "I'm short by a couple dollars," he mumbled.

"No problem, I've got it," I replied, going into my purse again.

I swear, his face went a little more pale ...

To this day, we look back on that date and chuckle about the "bad Bogart" he must have ordered, the quickening pace of the music, and the fact that he owed me money when all was said and done. I'm pretty sure that's not quite the event he had in mind when he called me that summer evening.

"Some date," I'd say, bringing it all back. "It just about sums us up, doesn't it?"

He'd just smile that quirky smile of his and sigh.

So, here we are, nearly ten years from that first, unofficial date, and three years into our life together as "husband and wife" and we're still together.

Maybe it's time to head back to that restaurant, for old time's sake, and give the "Humphrey Bogart" another try. ;)

Middle School Lessons (#5)

2008-07-21T18:27:00.005-04:00

Since I can't think of anything else in my own life worth posting about, I've decided to take a look at my notes from last school year and come up with another lesson ... Not only does this give me something to tide over my handful (Is that an exaggeration?) of readers, it reminds me just why I'm still searching for that new teaching position and not giving up.

Lesson #5: Appearance is everything

It’s really very interesting how one child’s demeanor and/or behavior can be one way in class and a completely different way after class.

For instance, one of my 7th graders was a tough, street-smart girl named Francesca. In class she was loud, rude, disrespectful, and lazy … But, at the end of the day she was probably the sweetest, funniest girl you could ever want to meet. It’s a good thing she liked me (or, maybe, at the very least tolerated me) because she could totally snap me in half like a twig if she wanted to. One good push from her and I’d be flying out the window or rolling down the stairs … ;)

One day, she visited me after school. It must have been the day report cards were handed out, because she was carrying it along with her. As we talked, she laid it on one of the desks, so I went over and glanced at it.

I’ve told my students many times, especially during those instances where I hear whispering behind my back or notes being “secretly” passed, that I didn’t want to become a teacher because I loved children … I did it because I’m nosey and have to be up in everyone’s business all the time.

The kids laughed at this. They thought I was joking.

“Look, Francesca,” I said, pointing to at her grades. “You should be really proud of yourself. Your science grade has gone up from an F last quarter, to a D this one.”

She just smirked at me and shrugged, seemingly at a loss for words (something that rarely ever happens during class as I am trying to teach a lesson).

“Maybe next quarter you can raise it even farther and bring it up to a C …” I pressed on.

“That would be fine,” she said.

“And look at this: Your effort and conduct have both gone up from unacceptable to needs improvement.”

Francesca looked at me very seriously. “You can raise my effort if you have to, but keep my conduct right where it is … I don’t want the other kids to think that I care about school or something.”

I just looked at her for a moment. “What does it matter if the other kids see that you’ve gotten a satisfactory in conduct? It’s good to care about your education. Don’t you want to get the most out of it? I mean, if you have to be at school, you might as well try your best.”

“I have a reputation to uphold,” she replied. “I don’t care if you give me all A’s, just keep the unacceptables.”

After our conversation ended, she left my room for the afternoon and went on her way. She probably didn’t give a second thought about what she had said. She was honest. It was the truth. How many other students were just like her? How many other students acted up or didn’t try because that’s what they wanted their classmates to see?

It amazes me how powerful peer pressure truly is on this age group. I don’t remember having these issues when I was in school. I didn’t care if people thought me to be a dork or a nerd … It was who I was and I was comfortable with that. Even if Francesca does care, it saddens me that it might be at her own expense. If she continues on this path of “unacceptable” conduct, she might hold herself back when she could be getting ahead. The Cleveland neighborhood that she lives in isn’t ripe with possibilities, and, to get out, a person really has to rise above all the negative influences that surround them.

Hopefully something will snap Francesca out of her current way of thinking.

Hopefully she’ll see that she can do so much better, that she deserves so much better …

Sisters

2008-07-18T12:22:00.000-04:00

If you would have told me, five years ago, that I'd be spending days on end with only my sisters, I would have either rolled my eyes or laughed in your face.

I'm the oldest of three, each of us separated by about three years. While that distance in age is not really all that large, eventually it was just enough to keep us from completely getting along and truly being "friends" (or even just cordial in some instances). Up until becoming teenagers, we really didn't have any problems. We peacefully shared a single bedroom for many years, coexisted in a house with only one bathroom, wore each others clothes and shoes, had "sleepovers" together, and enjoyed many other sisterly things ... But once Middle Sister hit about sixteen (making me nineteen), the fireworks began to fly!

I guess I'd have to step back, here, and explain that I was definitely a major "goody-two-shoes." As the oldest, I did everything I had or was expected to do ... I set the example. I obeyed rules and curfews without question and basically kept order in the house by calling out my sisters if they were doing (or had done) anything wrong. This, obviously, built up some animosity ... Especially between Middle Sister and myself, and really came to a head once she had become established in high school and I had gone away to college. We just didn't get along ... At all. I hated her friends and how she acted when they were together and she hated me. She resented that I ratted her out when she had an unchaperoned summer party at my parents' house and couldn't understand why I didn't "trust her" after that event. She said that I "thought the worst of her" and that I was "out to get her." Neither of these things are true, but I can certainly see where she'd arrive at this conclusion.

Things were awkward for many years, but around 2005 they started to get better. I was done with college, preparing to get married, and she was there for me, as a bridesmaid. Youngest Sister was also part of the wedding, and, although she was still in high school, had reached a level of maturity that you don't usually expect from the person you always considered to be "the baby."

Maybe it's true that you need to move out of the house and that that little bit of distance makes things so much clearer. Maybe time really does heal all wounds, and it just takes a couple of years to end up at the same point in life.

Either way, I just spent the past three days with and/or around my sisters, and we, surprisingly, had a great time!

Tuesday: Middle Sister and I broke in our new golf clubs at the driving range, and picked out towels, bath mats, and a shower curtain for the bathroom at her "new place."
Wednesday: All three of us went to the beach and laid out for a couple of hours, and talked, joked, and gossipped like real sisters should do.
Thursday: Was Youngest Sister's 20th birthday, so we spent the evening celebrating at a family cook-out. The three of us got the party rolling by forming our own three-piece "band" and rocking out on Youngest's new Play Station.

Like I said to start out this post, if you would have told me, five years ago, that I'd be spending days on end with only my sisters, I would have either rolled my eyes or laughed in your face.

This is one instance where I'm happy to be proven wrong.

Bragging Rights

2008-07-15T16:15:00.004-04:00

My husband is kicking butt in his "Human Biology" class.

What began as a very tentative, I-might-have-to-drop-this-if-I-can't-figure-it-out course, has now become something of a confidence booster. With his accelerated summer session nearly over, he is scoring 100% on all of his assignments and continuing to achieve high 80-90% on his lab practicals and written exams. Other students are coming to him for advice on test-taking and general questions, and, instead of me acting as his 24-hour tutor, he has figured out how to hash through the material, get it, and study for himself ...

And this is the same guy who mumbled and muttered about how he could never understand science or do biology.

Ha!

I married a natural, a genius, if you will.

Let's hope that next semester goes as smoothly ... Right now it seems as if the bridge is strong and true.

Solitude

2008-07-11T11:09:00.006-04:00

Having been home, alone, on my summer break for over a month I'm starting to have some mixed feelings. During one of the many hours spent on the computer, I was able to find a quote that seems to sum everything up perfectly:

"There are days when solitude is a heady wine that intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic, and still others when it is a poison that makes you beat your head against the wall."
~ Sidonie Gabrielle

It seems to me, that I'm currently locked in the second type of solitude: the bitter tonic. I'm still grateful to be home, relaxing, instead of rounding up a bunch of pre-teens or teenagers for a lesson about eukaryotic cells, yet, there is something that is increasingly unsatisfying.

I've always been a productive person for as long as I can remember. As a child, my summers were spent divided between swimming lessons, softball, Kool-Aid stands, and organized neighborhood games of kick-the-can ... There was always something going on, and I was always at the head of it. As a teenager and on through my college years, I spent my summers not only working and saving for the future, but also catching up on the latest novel and spending time with my friends and eventually my newly acquired boyfriend. So, as an "adult" just out of college, landing a position in a research facility was wonderful for me ... I could multi-task to my heart's content and fill my days up as I pleased. Tissue culture, assays of all kinds, documenting results and preparing presentations to present them, all kept me adequately busy. Even during my short span as a teacher, there were always lessons to write or worksheets to create. There was always something that I could be doing, and, right now, that's just not the case.

Sure, sure ... I could clean or dust or vacuum or weed the garden, but you get to a point where the things you have to do become so monotonous that you could easily progress to the "poison" type of solitude. I am a homebody and I love a clean house as much as the next person, but if my days were spent constantly cleaning and tidying up, I'd want to be anywhere but at home ... And that prospect scares me a little bit. I don't want to become the type of person that has to be out and doing something in order to be happy. I don't want to forget about the little things, the quiet moments, the simple things in life.

It certainly doesn't help my situation that I'm still stuck in a limbo in terms of work next year. I've already quit my former teaching job at the private school, making a huge leap of faith and hoping to make the leap to high school, as well. Despite the fact that my choice was the farthest thing from my usual rational, logical approach, I still feel good about it. However, I've yet to land that new high school position, and it's starting to wear on me, and, more disconcertingly, those around me. My husband (the optimist, remember? Ha!) is very concerned about what is going to happen in the fall. I think he has visions of me loafing around on the couch, getting fat from ice-cream and boredom, and sponging away what's hidden inside our savings account until there is nothing left. Little does he know, that vision scares me as much as it does him, but for different reasons ... And not the getting fat stuff!

If I'm stuck at home throughout the fall, I will most definitely go crazy and start "beating my head against the wall." I've already run out of things to do right now, God only knows what I'll do then. At this point, all I can do is keep my head up and keep focused on the job market. By now, any last-minute contracts will have been either returned or declined, so there should be one last surge of available positions before school starts. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

Too much of a good thing, they say. And, boy, they weren't kidding ...

I just hope that I can bring things back to "normal" so that I'll, once again, fully enjoy the peace and quiet that solitude can bring.

Green-eyed Monster

2008-07-10T11:38:00.006-04:00

One fine afternoon, I was sitting on the couch, reading. My cat, Isis, was laying across my lap, stretched out, purring, and utterly enjoying herself.

The jiggle of the key in the door (my husband was home from work) prompted her to perk up, and a low growl started building up in her chest. She hopped down from the couch, crouching in the middle of the living room, her growl getting louder and more insistent as she looked from the direction of the door and back to me.

When my husband finally made it across the threshold, the sound of the door and his feet prompted Isis to run to her usual spot behind the couch, growling and muttering all the way.

Now, I’m no animal behaviorist, but, apparently, there are some deep seeded feelings between my cat and my husband.

The funny thing about all of this is that, before I got married, I didn’t even like cats. I come from a long line of cat-haters, in fact, and didn’t want to be within ten feet of a stupid cat. So, for this cat to have claimed me, and not him, bothers my husband like you would not believe. He goes so far as to say that he hates this cat and would give her away if he had the chance. I’m smarter than all of that, however, and know that’s not actually the case. Deep down, he loves her and wants her to love him too.

It seems that I have two green-eyed monsters on my hands.

If only we could all just get along!

Old and New

2008-07-07T20:55:00.007-04:00

A couple of weeks ago, while shopping at Target for a birthday present, I took a peek over at the shoe aisle. My absolute favorite summer sandals were in dire need of retiring, and I knew that I wouldn’t have the inner strength to trash them if a worthy replacement had not been found. As I perused the shelves, looking for something that might be worthy of taking their place, a quirky slip-on caught my eye:

It was colorful, cute, and reminiscent of the Keds I used to live in as a kid. I could see myself wearing it with shorts, Capri pants, jeans, skirts … Anything!

Perfect!

Upon finding a pair that fit my big feet (success!), I happily scooped them up under my arm and brought them to check-out.

Although my original sandals had been retired and removed from my house (so that I couldn’t have any second thoughts), and I was excited to wear my perfect new summer shoes, they sat in their Target bag for at least another week. Visits to houses with dogs would mean dirty footprints, a cluster of rainy days meant mud … And I was not keen on getting my new shoes messed up so quickly. I told myself to be patient. The glorious day would come …

When the opportunity finally presented itself in the form of some evening errands, I happily popped on my new shoes and made my way out the door. I paid a bill at Lowes, looked for cabinet door pulls at Home Depot (because Lowes didn’t carry the ones we wanted), and then took a trip to Wal-Mart …

Gosh darn it if my “perfect” shoes didn’t give me two, nasty blisters!

As I made my way home, I mourned my original sandals. Never had they given me a blister. Never had they done anything detrimental to my flat, somewhat gross-looking feet. I cursed myself for letting them go, for throwing them away because they were dirty and old. I should have known better. I should have known that these new shoes, no matter how lovely and cute they were, could just not compare. How could I have been so foolish? If only I could retrieve my original sandals from the dumpster!

Today, now that my blisters have healed, I've decided to adopt a different outlook. I peek into my closet at my new shoes and a small smile creeps across my face. They are cute. I do like them. They certainly deserve a second chance … I mean, you can’t blame a new friend for being different than an old one, that’s just the way it goes. No two people are exactly alike, so why would shoes (something even simpler) be any different?

As I wait for my next "new shoe" opportunity, and try to push the negative thoughts from my mind, I can only hope that my feet have accepted this new "friendship" as well, and have toughened up appropriately so that my heels will not be rubbed raw.

The Next Morning

2008-07-03T12:36:00.010-04:00

Although I'm still uncertain and waiting for the results of my metaphorical storm, I can plainly see the "new life" sprouting from the real storm last night.

The flowers in the front of my house are either (finally) budding or blooming, seemingly awakened by the nighttime rain:

Hopefully, my storm will produce something even more wonderful.

Waiting the Storm

2008-07-02T22:02:00.004-04:00

There's a storm rolling in tonight ...

The air is changing. It smells different. It feels different.

The dark sky spontaneously lights up with natural fireworks. A quick flash! and then nothing. A moment of calm. A moment to breathe before the next display.

It's not raining yet, but it's coming. I know it's coming. The familiar tapping on the windows and rooftop is on its way. The soothing pitter-patter as the water falls back to earth will be heard before long.

There is a sense of excitement... Electricity. An anxious pause as the sky prepares to open up as it moves along its path, loud and in control.

In the sheer force and power of the storm there is a real chance for destruction ... But when it's all over, there is the opportunity for rebirth. The grass is greener, the flowers invigorated, the earth washed clean.

I feel as if I'm caught in my own storm ... All of the elements are in place around me, and I'm waiting. Just waiting for the next phase to begin. Waiting for the rain to fall and the thunder to roll. Waiting for the storm to pass so that I can move on, fresh and new, and ready to conquer the thing that lies ahead.

Yes, there's a storm rolling in tonight. I think I'll sit on the front porch and watch it.

Reminiscing

2008-06-27T12:04:00.007-04:00

I was trying to use my time wisely yesterday by actually cleaning and organizing the catch-all bureau that is in our dining room. For only having four drawers, I was amazed at the amount of crap my husband and I have stuffed inside ... Pads of paper, pens and pencils, rulers, rubber bands, miniature novelty license plates, pocket knives, a Magic 8-Ball, an address book, address labels, blank "thank you" cards, to-do lists, calculators, old folders and notebooks, a dissection kit ... The list could go on and on.

Even though I was able to rid our lives of piles (and piles!) of needless stuff, I did find a little gem that I hadn't realized was there at all.

Take a look:

This page from an assignment planner (from my senior year of college) is pretty much unassuming and unnecessary for keeping except for one little thing.

Do you see it?

I'll give you a hint ... The heart drawn on the 25th.

If you look closely, that metallic heart says "9:56" inside of it. That marks the exact time my husband proposed to me, on one knee in my dorm room, and asked my in no uncertain terms to be his wife and make him the happiest man alive (his words, not mine).

It has been more than four years since that day and, hopefully, I'm still keeping up my end of the bargain. :)

Baby Boom

2008-06-25T11:48:00.004-04:00

Practically everyone around me of child-bearing age is having babies.

My friend from college, my sister-in-law, two of my cousins ... I know that measly little list may not sound like "everyone" to you, but for me, that is a lot of people in my small circle of friends and family.

I, personally, (for now we'll leave the husband out of this) have felt ready to have a baby for a little a while now. That biological clock that everyone talks about has certainly been ticking a little bit louder. However, being the ultra-logical person that I am, life has, up until this point, always gotten in the way.

First, it was the education program that I was a part of ... I wanted to finish so that I could make the career change from scientific research to science teaching.
Then, it was finding that first teaching job.
Then, it was completing (scratch that, surviving) my first year and all the various tests that go along with it.
Then, it was making sure I'd be able to go on my family's first ever out-of-the-country Christmas vacation to Mexico ... Without a newborn baby in tow.

Now, I don't really have any excuses.

I am looking for that new job (and a spring baby would certainly cut my school year a little bit short) but I'm starting to see that, if I wait for life to settle down to a point where it seems ready to accept a child into the mix, I'm fooling myself.

Or am I just speeding up the natural process of things because "everyone else is doing it?"

I've never been one to follow the leader, I always was the leader, but it seems that, with babies, there's that little voice (or is it the ticking?) that gets louder and louder when other people are where you'd like to be. As a first time mother, I'd imagine that you need all the help you can get, so what is better than an already established support group of family and friends toting around kids of their own?

But, there I go being logical again.

It is all very strange to me that I'm even spending parts of my days thinking about this (and, believe me, I have way too much time to think on my summer vacation). At 25, I don't necessarily feel like I'm old and mature enough to even have a baby, but, somehow, I just feel ready. I felt ready to get married at 22 and I feel ready now ... And the marriage is working out pretty well so far, maybe the baby stuff will too.

All that said, the whole thing is null and void if the aforementioned husband isn't on board ... He's much more afraid of giving up his little freedoms than I am, and he's concerned about how being back at school and looking for a new career will fit in to the picture. I hear him loud and clear, but we would be waiting forever if every little detail had to be ironed out first ... And then we'd be too old to have kids! Of course, all this is assuming that conception happens without a hitch ... And who knows how that will go? All the statistics that I see, say that 9 out of 10 couples of child-bearing age that are trying to conceive will be able to do so in the first year ... But what if we are that 1 out of 10?

You truly never know.

Life just contains so many "ifs" that it's impossible to really plan anything. It's funny that I even give this any thought because, deep down, I know that what is meant to happen, will happen. Current baby boom or not, my (our) time will eventually come.

Maybe we should just keep doing what we're doing until that margin of error eventually catches up to us and ... POOF ... Hello unplanned pregnancy!

On second thought, that might create more problems than it solves. I don't think my husband would ever recover from the shock. :)

Lazy Days

2008-06-23T15:22:00.006-04:00

Whoever coined the phrase, "It's a dog's life" certainly did not have cats!

I mean, how could anything but this be considered the life of luxury?

The Gully and the Bridge

2008-06-20T17:13:00.008-04:00

After arriving home from work today, my husband had an interesting analogy for me. He is currently back at school, trying to find a new career, and is (needless to say) a little nervous and apprehensive as to how things are going to work out.

He's not what you would call a risk-taker ...

"Pretend that this is a map, a very old map," he began, holding up one of his horror movie magazines for me to look at. "The winding road starts here, way down at this corner, and eventually progresses across the page ... Until it gets to the middle. Right here."

My gaze followed his finger to a picture of a creepy-looking guy holding a shotgun.

"Right here, is where there's a gully. It's big and wide and there is supposed to be a bridge that crosses it ..."

"But it's an old map," I interrupted. "And it might not be there?"

"Exactly. Who knows if it's still there? I could have driven all this way. Gone through all of these different obstacles to get there and ... Nothing. I'm stuck with no way to get across."

"Or, even worse," I replied with a smirk, egging him on, "it's still there, but it's old and rickety ..."

"Yeah," he nodded. "And then when the car is about halfway across, the bridge will fall and I'll die."

He's quite the optimist, as you can see ... I don't doubt that he's got a huge gully in front of him. Heck, I stood at the edge of a similar gully about a year ago. All I can say is that, hopefully, the bridge is still there (and it's strong enough to carry him across).

Inspiration

2008-06-19T13:56:00.008-04:00

People often ask me why I wanted to leave my comfortable research job and become a teacher.

"Summer break," is usually my reply, but there really is more to it than that.

While I believe that teaching is a vocation that I have been called to do, I don't have a long history of wanting to do it. Even so, I have always loved to learn and immerse myself in academia, no matter what the discipline. I like the challenge that each day brings and enjoy that teaching is, ultimately, a very family-friendly profession. I consider myself to be every enthusiastic about science and like spreading that enthusiasm on to others that might not otherwise think twice about it ... But, underneath all of these reasons, there is one that keeps cropping up more and more in my mind.

My Uncle.

Today would be his birthday if he was still with us (he died last summer of cancer that spread from his prostate to just about every other area of his body).

Before the cancer took over, he was a teacher, through and through. A high school business and keyboarding teacher, to be exact ... Subjects in which he barely scraped by when he was a teenager (believe me, I've seen his report cards). From the stories he told and from the stories I've heard from his former students (my father, my best friend, my cousins, and my sister being some of them), he was not the type of teacher that was heavily focused on content, although it was important. He was the type of teacher that built solid relationships with his students and did the unexpected to keep them interested.

For example, in a business law class he "tripped" over a student's book bag (and, let me just point out, my uncle was a large man) and threw himself to the ground to show that lawsuits can crop up anywhere. He wrote reference letters for high school drop outs, kids that he believed had potential even if it wasn't academic. He was an inspiring individual and touched many lives ...
More and more, I see that I have a greater connection to teaching than I even realized.

When he died last summer, I was just finishing up my very first week with students. In my tizzy of being overwhelmed and nervous and scared that I made the wrong career decision, I never did call him to let him know how things were going. Looking back, I wish I would have picked up the phone that one last time. I wish I would have called and let him know how important his support and guidance were to me and how I hoped to be as successful as he had been over the years.

Only time will tell if I even begin to fill his teaching shoes.

I just hope that I can (and did) make him proud.

Other-in-laws

2008-06-17T11:00:00.001-04:00

Yes, you read that title correctly. It is not a typo.

Often, when a couple is engaged and planning to get married, most people offer warnings about the dreaded "mother-in-law." I have been lucky in this respect, because my mother-in-law is a wonderful woman. She's not without her flaws, of course, but things could certainly be worse!

The thing you are never warned about, however, and the thing to which you have absolutely no control, are the "other-in-laws." I'm talking about the extended family that becomes related through the marriage of one of your in-laws. In my case, my sister-in-law. This group of family is slightly removed, and most of the time you don't even have to deal with them, but, when you do, it is like treading into some crazy, new territory.

This past weekend, I had the extreme pleasure (please note the sarcasm) of attending a birthday cook-out for my sister-in-law's husband. Being that they had reason for celebration as well, the entire group of other-in-laws was there. As I've mentioned in a previous post, I'm not the most social of beings, so making small talk with these strangers isn't the easiest, and/or most pleasant, thing for me to do. Even so, I tried to make the best of it.

For example, coming up the driveway and into the house, I noticed one of my other-in-laws and her husband signing their card in the car.

My husband and I had just done this ourselves, so I smiled and made the passing comment: "I guess us oldest siblings have the same idea," as I held our card in the air.

I was met with a mostly blank stare.

I just kept walking.

You see, it is things like this that seem to define this set of other-in-laws. With the exception of the other-in-law mother (my sister-in-law's mother-in-law for those of you trying to keep track), they don't like to make any effort to strike up a meaningful conversation. They sort of sit there, talking with each other, and pretend that you aren't even in the same place. Just like my brother-in-law (it must run in the family), the most contact you get is a look and maybe a smirk or smile ... Or a "hello" or "good-bye." Nothing in between. It's this standoff-ish attitude that makes me wonder if they're just shy, too, or if they are actually stuck-up.

Unfortunately, I'm not the type of person to throw caution to the wind and make the first move. Especially after my little comment about card-signing didn't even warrant a smile or a chuckle. I guess only time will tell how our relationships progress ... And as my sister-in-law brings her new baby into the picture, I'm sure we'll have many more opportunities to figure things out.

Thank Heaven ...

2008-06-16T11:28:00.006-04:00

The father of all daughters (especially one that lives in a house with only one bathroom) deserves a very special place in heaven.

My dad is one such father:

No matter what was going on in the house during any stage of our female lives, he was always there for us. No amount of drama was too big.

When I was fourteen I started my very first period (I was a late bloomer). My mom was out of town on business at the time, clear across the country in California. With no cell phone to reach her (we didn't have one back then), I nervously went to my dad with my dilemma. He was surprisingly calm, now that I think back about it, and simply asked me what type of product I wanted him to purchase ... Tampons? Pads? Wings or no wings? I guess he had been waiting for this to happen, sooner or later, and he made the situation that much easier for me to deal with.

The above example is just one reason why the father of all daughters deserves that special place in heaven. He deals with much more than any man should have to deal with ... For all he knew, he'd only have to learn the little idosynchracies of one female, and here he ended up with three more! He knows when to just sit there an listen, and when to offer his well-seasoned advice. He knows when to enforce a curfew (usually when boys are involved) and when to let his little angels have an extra hour here or there. He knows the value of blatant honesty, especially when it comes to clothing (or the lack thereof), and isn't afraid to speak his mind on typically "girly" topics.

I am tremendously lucky to have grown up with the father that I have ... And, in my humble opinion, he is tremendously lucky to have "grown up" with us!

Who needs a bunch of boys, anyway?

For Sale

2008-06-11T15:13:00.004-04:00

Interviews are all about selling yourself, and, apparently, I'm not doing a very good job.

I've been on just under ten interviews so far this year. Thinking back to the five I went on last year, as I searched for my first teaching position, this general increase is, in itself, an improvement. At least, now, employers are seeing my qualifications and history and actually giving me a chance to come in and talk with them. If only these "talks" proved to be more beneficial. If only they would lead to a job offer.

I can't begin to describe how sick I am of the tired: "We appreciate your time and really enjoyed meeting you."

Or the: "It was a very difficult decision but..."

(Always a but, isn't there?)

Or the: "We hope you'll think about being on our substitute list this fall."

It reminds me of the "always a bridesmaid, never a bride" stuff. I'm good enough to be a part time substitute in their school district, but I'm somehow unworthy of getting a stable, full time position. They like me and see some potential there, they just don't want to hire me for fear that my inexperience will do me, and their district, in. I just wish someone (other than a Catholic or urban school that has nothing to lose) would take a look at my unique science background, my success of just finishing this school year with a smile on my face, and my desire to learn and continually improve myself and my teaching abilities ... And hire me!

I know that I can do a good job if given the chance.

I guess that I'm not letting them know it, as well. ;(

Social Butterfly

2008-06-09T14:42:00.005-04:00

I'm awkward, there are no two ways around it.

It is just part of my personality.

Put me in an overtly social situation and I clam up ... Guaranteed! I'm only half way comfortable when I'm with family or very close friends, and, even then, I have some trouble. I consider myself to be an intelligent individual, but, sometimes, when I open my mouth, I feel so irrelevant and so ... Well, dumb.

I think that is why I got a really good laugh out of this MSN ad when I saw it the other day.

I'm just like that guy, only female.

I've got a weird fashion sense, glasses not much unlike those, a need to look good and feel accepted in front of others, and I'm not up-to-date on the "must know stuff" that is spoken about in the clip:

Basketball scores? Please.

Celebrities currently in rehab? I could care less. Truth be told, there are actually instances where I secretly laugh at how people with money have more messed up lives than people without it.

Compact cars with the most horsepower? No thanks. I'm not in the market for a new car, especially with gas costing around $4.00 a gallon!

The "perfect Bahama Mama" ... Hmmm. That might actually come in handy.

Especially on a 90-degree day like today! ;)

New Eyes

2008-06-05T20:00:00.000-04:00

I just picked up a new pair of eyeglasses yesterday.

My vision is pretty terrible, so this routine of seeing the doctor and then dropping over $300 on some eye wear has been a part of my life for many years. I've always loved the idea of "updating" my look with some new frames and picking out something completely different from my previous pair. This year, I actually made the switch from wire frames, to more nerd-worthy plastic ones. They are thicker and more noticeable, but cute, and are very comfortable because they don't have those annoying little plastic pads that dig into your nose and trap sweat, dirt, and other nasty particles.

Anyway, being that these glasses are new, the prescription is also stronger. Much stronger. I've always enjoyed and dreaded that first moment when the store clerk gives you your new purchase and you switch the old frames for the new. Anyone who needs vision correction knows what I'm talking about ... That moment where you put the new pair of glasses on and suddenly feel all cross-eyed and discombobulated, yet you can see 100% clearly for the first time in who-knows-how-long. It is probably one of the strangest feelings that I've experienced. It's like being drunk and dizzy, but not quite ... Completely tuned in to every little detail ahead of you, yet somehow aware of the increased blurriness in your periphery.

If only life was this way ...

Wouldn't it be wonderful to just put on a new set of eyes and see things clearly after a lifetime of haze?

Wouldn't it be wonderful to be eerily aware of everything and yet completely clueless to the meaning of it all ... All at the same time?

What if you could truly erase past judgements and make "first impressions" all over again?

What if the wrongs of the past could just fade into the background while the future became ever clearer?

The world would be a much better place if we all just got a new pair of glasses!

Overworked and Undermined

2008-06-04T19:50:00.001-04:00

Today was the last day of school ... My last day as a first year teacher.

In celebration of that fact, I would love to post about how I learned and grew so much ... Which, I'm sure, I did. Instead, however, I will be ranting about how things came full circle. How the tired, worn habits of my principal left me feeling unaccomplished (and like one of my sixth graders) when I should have been celebrating.

Hold on to your hats!

Let me just begin by saying that my principal is a nun.

Yes, my inner city school just happens to be a private, Catholic institution that accepts vouchers from the city instead of tuition from the parents. Catholic or not, the school is pretty typical and encounters problems similar to those of the public schools in the area ... Money is tight and good behavior is in short supply.

I have learned to live with and love the kids and I now realize that their erratic behavior is a mirror of their erratic and hectic home lives. I have also learned that Sister does not bend or flex for anyone. She doesn't let up, not even on the very last day of school.

When I started my year, Sister always came across as very curt and condescending. She has a strong personality, to say the least, and she likes things done "her way." So, as you can probably imagine, no matter what I did during that first week, I was (inevitably) wrong. I was reprimanded from the doorway as I taught a class for speaking too "loudly." I was embarrassed in front of the entire school during mass one morning, when Sister approached me for sitting by the wrong aisle and beckoned me to follow her to the correct seat! I was told to arrange my desks differently, to pass out papers differently, and to address the students differently. Being new, I tried to take all of these "suggestions" in stride and use the criticism constructively. I tried to learn from Sister's unique management style and essentially expect it from her. I tried to push away the feelings of incompetence and self-consciousness and just do my job ...

Fast forward nine months to this week.

I am a school-year wiser, and a school-year more experienced. I am more in tune to my students and have a better understanding as to how to get them motivated. In this instance, motivation for cleaning and preparing the room for summer came by way of a movie and ice-cream party ... If we could get all of Sister's cleaning tasks completed (which there were many, an entire page's worth to be exact) we would watch a movie and eat some ice-cream on the last day of school.

Armed with the list Sister gave to each homeroom teacher, I set about making a plan of attack. Coming from a scientific research background, I made sure to budget my time and put certain tasks in sequence for ultimate effectiveness. I gave each student jobs to perform and supplied them with rags, buckets, and cleaning solution.

Unfortunately, Sister's plan did not coincide with mine.

At about 10:00 this morning (the last day of school, mind you), she entered my room, approached me, and whispered, "What are you doing?"

"We're cleaning the room," I replied numbly, knowing where this was headed. She must have visited my room a dozen times this past week alone to tell me how to do my job and change around the schedule that I thought was more than appropriate.

"You shouldn't be cleaning the room until after morning break. You should be teaching lessons now."

For once, I think my students and I felt exactly the same way ... Frustrated and confused.

Morning break was only fifteen minutes away! And, besides, we were working! We were doing a good job! Why was Sister insisting on making us stop and look at a "Say No to Drugs" coloring book made for first graders? Couldn't she see that things were under control?

I honestly can't imagine that anyone else had as much of a problem as I did this week. Things got done, the kids were under control the entire time, but somehow that wasn't good enough. It wasn't "her way" or in "her order" and therefore it was wrong.

As a teacher I am used to improvising and changing things up at a moment's notice, but this was ridiculous! I've never felt so stupid in all of my life. Why was she lurking outside of my classroom anyhow? What satisfaction does she get from telling me what to do in front of thirteen sixth graders that are looking to me as an authority figure? How does she think that makes me look? I honestly can't wait to get out of this school and rid my life of this unnecessary stress! I don't know if future principals will be any better (or worse) as my teaching career continues. I don't know if I'm in an uncommon situation where I am needlessly picked and prodded over every little detail. I do know, however, that as I search for my next teaching job, I will seek slightly better wages, but more importantly, an administration that does not treat me like just another student in the classroom.

Middle School Lessons (#4)

2008-06-02T19:25:00.004-04:00

In honor of my eighth graders' graduation tomorrow, I want to present another "Middle School Lesson" that solely revolves around them and their (shall we say) interesting way of thinking ...

Lesson #4: Being single is sad

On many occasions, either before or after class, the topic of dating would come up with my eighth graders.

Who is dating whom? Who hasn’t dated at all? Who is “lame” for not having a boyfriend?

I was never very surprised, but I still wanted to rip my hair out!

“You’re too young to be dating,” I’d say. “Be a kid. Have fun and hang out with your friends. You don’t need to worry about dating yet!”

Then, as if to catch me and block me in some corner, I would inevitably get the following question: “Okay … Then how old were you when you started dating?”

Wonderful! They practically played into my hands without even knowing it!

“I was seventeen,” I’d say.

And this isn’t a lie. I was the type of girl that didn’t want a boyfriend. I was the type of girl that enjoyed playing sports, acting in drama club, and hanging out with her friends. Now, don’t get me wrong. I crushed on just about every young actor and/or singer that was out there: Chris O’Donnell, Leonardo DiCaprio, Ryan Phillippe, Justin Timberlake … I had (have, I should admit) a long withstanding crush on Matt Dillon too, but that’s for another day. So, yes, while I liked boys (men!?), I just didn’t want them to complicate my life.

Sometimes the questioning would continue. “Well then … How many boyfriends have you had?”

I’d smile again. They probably don’t expect what’s coming next: “One … And I married him.”

Again, this is completely true. I’ve only had one boyfriend. I won’t pretend to be completely lily white, because I did have many male friends throughout my life, but I never got around to dating any of them. I didn’t have the whole “friends with benefits” nonsense either. A friend was a friend in my book.

But, what is so wrong with that?

Some people may look at me and think I’m too young to be married or that I haven’t experienced enough to have made that decision in the first place. To them, I’d say that I don’t need to sleep around with multiple guys to know when I’ve got a good thing (and I’m not talking about sex, I’m talking about much more than that). While society and the “celebrity culture” that we see on TV and in magazines may indicate otherwise, it is possible to go against that grain. I’m a complete nonconformist when it comes to popular culture and to “the crowd.” So, in that sense, I am very unique. I stick to my beliefs and ideas with a ferocity that many lose over time. I don’t care who is doing what … If I don’t want to do it, I won’t. Underage drinking, drugs, casual sex … You name it. I’m a walking public service announcement.

I only hope that some of this spirit will be passed to my own, biological children … If not to some of those "children" in my classroom. Lord knows, with the things they face each and every day, they could use it!

I wish each and every one of them the best.

Good luck eighth grade class of 2008! I will always remember you and think back fondly of our time (and many candid conversations) together! :)

St. Malo's

2008-05-30T15:55:00.000-04:00

I just love this photo.

I took it when my husband and I vacationed in Estes Park, Colorado this past fall.

While in a little shop in the heart of town, my husband and I came across a postcard depicting the cutest little stone church perched atop a large rock. Appropriately called "Chapel on the Rock" (or St. Malo's as the title of this post points out), it was every bit as beautiful and peaceful in person as it was on that postcard ... Maybe even more so.

Once inside, I really wanted to capture the simplicity and beauty of the woodwork, rock walls, and colorful stained-glass windows so that I could take it home with me. The violets, greens, and golds cast across the pews were so calming and relaxing.

I could have sat there all day long.

I could just look at this picture all day long, too ... Especially after a hard week of teaching (or is it, babysitting?). I hope that we'll be able to make the trip back to Estes Park someday.

Sticks and Stones

2008-05-28T15:32:00.003-04:00

Maybe I have been desensitized after working for a year in an urban school, but I don't think the teacher in this story was that out of line for what she said.

Was it mean? Yes.

Was it embarrassing to the child? Yes.

Could the situation have been handled in a better way? Yes.

Of course, many things about this story are troubling ... But ask anyone who has been in a room full of children (let alone a group of 5-year-olds) for an entire day how "easy" it is.

Advanced training in education and psychology or not, teachers are people too and are subject to having a "moment" every now and again. I may be showing my own ignorance here, but would a 5-year-old even understand what the word ignorant means? I have personally told a sixth grader that he was being ignorant just this past year. I have personally spoken candidly to my seventh grade class about how irresponsible they act on a daily basis and about how they really need to prioritize what is important, for fear of ruining their futures.

Harsh? Maybe.

Honest and realistic? Definitely!

Worthy of suspending me indefinitely from a profession that (believe it or not) I enjoy? I hope not!

Now, I'm not condoning what Ms. Woodward in Indiana said, but, having been in her shoes for just under a school year, I can see how such statements might come out.

The really sad thing (for me) about this story, is that many parents are quick to blame the teacher. This is now the second or third situation like this, in which the parents (after their child complains) send a tape recorder to school to see what the teacher is up to, and, when they find something "shocking" on the tape, go right to the media with it. Why not call the teacher directly and settle the problem? Why not ask him/her if there are any problems in the classroom or arrange for a conference to discuss their concerns? Chances are, the child that is complaining is part of the problem. There are two sides to every story. So, it truly bothers me that the parents in these situations do not seem to acknowledge that.

Again, coming from an urban school, I know that kids hear worse things than "ignorant" or "self-absorbed" or "pathetic." It may not be pleasant on the child's psyche, but, for some, these words may actually come from their own parents or step-parents. The sad fact of life is that we often hear things that we do not want to. We often don't regard our own actions until someone, perhaps rudely or embarrassingly, points out what our flaws are. (Think: high school)

I am interested to hear how this story develops and just what the teacher's side truly is. I don't agree with her methods, but I can certainly empathize and see exactly where she's coming from. It's unfortunate that something like this can't be handled inside the school instead of across the public arena.

Lemonade

2008-05-27T15:30:00.000-04:00

This weekend, I found out that my sister-in-law is pregnant with her first child.

At first, this news made me incredibly frustrated, angry, and annoyed because I wanted to be the one to bring the first grandchild to our side of the family. It would only be fair ... I was married before her, after all.

Then, after thinking about it (or rather, stewing over it for a couple of days), I've decided that I'm okay and that I can totally deal with it.

(I just realized how silly that sounds ... How big of me! Ha!)

Not only will my sister-in-law make many mistakes for me (from which I may learn and look all the smarter), but she will also act as a buffer in what I like to call "The New Grand-Mother Factor," or just "NGMF" for short. Science nerd that I am, I have actually documented and researched this factor with other new mothers in my family.

During the height of the NGMF, the new grandmother takes her role to the extreme:

She fusses over the baby way more than is physically necessary
She questions everything. (For example: "He looks hot! Why is he wearing a T-shirt and a Onesie??)
She makes unexpected "pop-in" appearances during all hours of the day
She purchases the baby ridiculously ugly or unnecessary gifts (For example: A velveteen Santa suit for Christmas or a Christian CD that inserts new grandchild's name into the songs)

No, NGMF is not pretty and is much more detrimental and scarring (to both mother and child) than plain old GMF. So, by being second to procreate (whether planned or unplanned as the case may be), I could essentially be decreasing my chances of having NGMF influence my day-to-day postpartum life.

But all that aside, I think I finally (deep down) realize that any baby is a blessing. It doesn't matter if it is the first, second, third, or thirteenth grandchild. It is a grandchild, plain and simple, and that is all that matters. It will be loved and spoiled and enjoyed regardless of its birth order.

Maybe I can "one up" her with a set of twins or something. ;)

For a Friend ...

2008-05-16T23:34:00.004-04:00

My husband and I watched "Evan Almighty" a couple weeks ago.

Although it is a light-hearted and funny film throughout, I was struck by a particular line of dialogue given by Morgan Freeman (or, God, in this case) ... So much so that I was moved to tears and promptly ridiculed.

The line was thus:

Let me ask you something. If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage? Or does he give him opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for their family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other?

It amazes me how a Hollywood movie can actually hold such wisdom. In my opinion, whoever was responsible for this script (at least this section of it) hit it right on the head. Our prayers aren't answered outwordly by just giving us the thing that we need or want most ... They are answered when we actively go out and work toward whatever it is we asked for, when we find something inside of ourselves that we didn't realize was there before.

So goes the saying:

You need to be the change you wish to see in the world.

I think the same thing applies. The world can be an awfully dismal and depressing place if we look at it full on. There is war, poverty, death, disaster ... But if we take a moment to pull ourselves away, to see things from our singular perspective, and do small acts of kindness, we can turn the tide. It's all about the opportunities to do great things.

And, for the friend I'm thinking of as I write this entry, you have (and will continue to have) so many opportunities to do right for the world. Just take it one small step at a time and I know that you will not waste any of them. :)

Sparrows

2008-05-14T19:16:00.005-04:00

I was driving home with my husband on Sunday and, along the way, we came across two little sparrows in the road. As we passed, I realized that one of them was dead, its little body smushed into the blacktop. The second sparrow, however, was very much alive, flapping wildly but staying put by its fallen friend. At the last possible moment, right before our car drove past, the living sparrow flew away to a tree at the side of the road.

Turning completely around to check out the scene (luckily, my husband was driving) I watched the sparrow swoop back again, resuming it's position with the other bird once our car had cleared the spot.

Seeing this sight, this sad, little bird futilely flying back and forth from tree to road, tugged at my heart a little bit.

"Oh no," my husband muttered, noticing me notice the birds. "This is going to bother you all day now ... Just don't think about it."

But how could I do anything but?

That tiny little bird was going to be busy all day long, flying and swooping, flying and swooping, thinking in its tiny, little brain that its friend would eventually fly away too. Now, some might wave this situation off as just a dumb animal, doing what animals do ...

I saw something else:

How often in life do we do exactly the same thing, and hold on to something that obviously needs to be released?

I know, in my life, there are many things that I just need to forget and move away from, yet somehow, I can't bring myself to do it. Rather than "letting go," I cling on for dear life, avoiding good sense at all costs, and hoping that somehow, someway, the thing I need to forget will prove useful. Whether this "thing" is a past relationship that fizzled, an object, a distant memory, or a feeling does not matter. It really makes no difference.

If I do not let go, I will be like that sad, little sparrow, wasting its time swooping back and forth for nothing.

Maybe it's time to let go.

Mother's Day

2008-05-12T12:46:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was Mother’s Day, and although I’m not a mother in the traditional sense, I feel a little bit like the day was for me too …

I may not have any biological children, but I routinely “mother” sixty kids every single week day from 8:20 to 2:45 (and sometimes later if they are waiting for rides). Divided up between the four grades that I teach, that’s thirteen sixth graders, fifteen fifth graders, seventeen seventh graders (many of which, if they were truly mine, I’d want to disown or, at the very least, send away to military school), and fifteen eighth graders.

They are black, white, Hispanic, Asian, and many other mixtures of one or more.

They are Muslim, Hindu, Catholic and many other Christian denominations.

They have been residents of the Cleveland area for their whole lives, or they have moved here from worlds away for a better future.

They come from homes with single-parents, homes with happily married parents, homes run by their grandparents, and homes containing blended families (which could mean that they are living with a parent’s girlfriend or boyfriend, step-parents, step-siblings, or half siblings). Sometimes they know who their father is, and sometimes they do not. Sometimes they don’t care to know him anyway.

They are smart, funny, artistic, kindhearted, helpful, idealistic, irresponsible, disrespectful, annoying, aggressive, and angry.

They are obsessed with appearances and just screaming for attention … Sometimes this is because they like the drama, other times it is because they just need someone to show them love and acceptance.

They think they know everything about the world around them and how to manipulate the system of authority figures that they encounter each day. They think that they are old enough to watch R-rated movies and have MySpace pages set to "public."

They yearn for more than what they have been given, but yet they often lack the drive and the perseverance to go out and actually get it.

These are my kids.

They are everything that I want, and everything that I (definitely) do not want for my future children.

They have earned a special place in my heart and show me, all too often, that I am human and have so much more to learn.

Middle School Lessons (#3)

2008-05-08T19:30:00.000-04:00

Lesson #3: Parents are creative

We've been talking about abstinence in sixth grade Health, recently. While I was circulating around the room during a lab period (and the students were actually working quite diligently), I overheard a conversation between one of my 6th graders, Nate, and his best friend Danny.

“My mom told me and my brother that she’ll pay each of us one hundred dollars each if we don’t get a girl pregnant by the time we finish high school.”

I hope he gets the money …