Blizzard

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

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

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

"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

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

"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

"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.

;)