I haven't blogged for a while and that definitely isn't because I haven't had anything to say:). I have probably written a hundred in my mind, but none have made it to print. Today, however, I feel compelled to write.
Tomorrow is the anniversary of September 11th. My son came home with a September 11th related assignment last week. He had to interview a parent about the memories and thoughts they have from that day. Once I was able to move past the realization that I am now at an age where I provide perspective on historical events, I sat down with him and we had our discussion.
There are many things I remember about that day, including where I was and how I felt. My most vivid memories, however, are more about how life was in the period that followed. In the days and weeks that followed 9/11, I was in awe of the differences I saw in humanity. I remember going to a candlelight vigil and witnessing so many people from all walks of life showing compassion for each other. People were comforting strangers, moving past any judgements and biases. Even at the store, people were a little more patient, tolerant, and forgiving. Families came together. The event shifted our priorities and exposed our vulnerabilities. I think there was such beauty in that. Life was not about "things". It was about living life, giving grace, loving others, and appreciating all that we have and take for granted. It was the essence of how I think we were created to be.
My husband says I am an idealist, a dreamer. I struggle with the notion that being an idealist is a bad thing. I believe in people. I believe in possibilities. I am not naive, rather I choose to look for the best in others and hope for what can be. I try to do my part.
I have trouble understanding why a tragic event is necessary to bring out the best in all of us, only to have us revert back to old ways as time passes. Is that front row parking spot really worth a cursing match? Is it necessary to spew hate and condemnation toward or about those who disagree with you?
If we took more of what was displaying in the weeks following 9/11 and incorporated those into our daily lives, it would honor those who perished. We can take what we learned, the glimpses of amazing unity that we saw, and live our lives as a tribute.
I will never forget the images from that day. I forever mourn for those that died, the innocent men, women, and children. But...I refuse to look on it with anger or allow it to fuel my resentments, Instead, I think about that small taste of "Pleasantville" that enveloped our country in the weeks that followed and remain hopeful for what can be.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
The April Blues
Today was the first day back at school after a great Spring Break with my family. As I was preparing for my return last night, I felt a very deep sadness come over me. This sadness did not stem from the fact that our break was over and I was headed back to work. Instead, it came with the realization that there are only 2 months left of the school year. Two very busy months –that will fly by! I felt sad knowing my time with these 23 amazing kids will soon come to an end. What can I say? I love them. They are individuals with their own unique gifts, quirks, and personalities. Together, they make an awesome class. Each of them has taken a piece of my heart. It is hard to imagine not spending my days with them.
Along with the sadness, came a sense of panic. I was asking myself, “How much of what I want and have planned to teach them, has been completed? What needs to happen in this next two months? Will they have time to learn all that I want them to know?”
As a teacher, there is a vast amount of material that you are required to teach your students. Because of the limited time and days, you have to prioritize. I have a mental list of what I feel is most important. Math, for example, is critical. At this level, they are still learning basic skills that they will be able to incorporate into their everyday lives as they grow. It is also part of laying the foundation for higher level math that they will be presented with in the coming years. Grammar, while my least favorite subject to teach, is integral to their success in communicating with and understanding written material. In 4th grade, we are immersed in California history throughout the entire school year. Many people fail to see the significance of this particular subject area. I, however, think it is SO valuable to my 4th graders. So much transferable knowledge can be gained as we examine where we have come from as a state (and country) and how we have arrived at the current place we are in. They get to grapple with moral and ethical issues, while developing their critical thinking skills. They are able to see that life is complex and that there are at least two sides to every story.
I could go on and on about the curriculum and its importance, but interestingly enough this was not the area that came to mind in my panic-stricken state. The things I most want them to know and take with them aren’t found in the textbooks and annual lesson plans. They are contained within our discussions and our experiences together. They are heart lessons that I believe are vital for every student to take hold of, whether home-schooled, “private-schooled” or “public-schooled”. I want EVERY child to grab a hold of these things and carry them forward into their lives. More than how to divide, identify a verb phrase, or recite the date the Gold Rush started, these are some of the lessons I want my students to take with them from 4th grade.
- YOU matter. You are important and special in this world and always will be.
- You were wonderfully made to do great things. God didn’t create you to be someone else. He wants you to be the best YOU that you can be.
- You are loved beyond measure.
- Everyone makes mistakes. What is important is that you learn from them.
- You always have a choice. And…with choices come related consequences.
- You should always look for the good in others and treat them with kindness.
- Words are powerful. Being able to communicate with others is a gift, use it for good.
- Doing the right thing is rarely the easy thing. There may be times you have to stand alone to stay true to what you know in your heart is right.
- You should always forgive others. When you forgive someone, you aren’t releasing them from responsibility. You are setting yourself free. Holding on to anger hurts you more than it hurts others.
- You are never too young to make a difference in this world.
- Everyone is unique, each with different talents, skills, strengths, and weaknesses. Never discount someone as insignificant or inferior.
- You will come across things in school that are difficult. Don’t give up! It is during these times when you truly learn.
- There will be times when you fail. It’s okay. You aren’t called to be perfect. That’s Jesus’ job:).
- God never leaves. He is always with you. There is never a day that goes by when you are alone.
It is my hope that, as the year comes to a close, these seeds have been planted in the hearts of my students. As 4th graders, they are already such amazing people with tremendous potential. Knowing that we will part ways in less than two months pains me, but I am so excited to see them grow into who they have been created to be.
(Post actually written on 4/5)
Along with the sadness, came a sense of panic. I was asking myself, “How much of what I want and have planned to teach them, has been completed? What needs to happen in this next two months? Will they have time to learn all that I want them to know?”
As a teacher, there is a vast amount of material that you are required to teach your students. Because of the limited time and days, you have to prioritize. I have a mental list of what I feel is most important. Math, for example, is critical. At this level, they are still learning basic skills that they will be able to incorporate into their everyday lives as they grow. It is also part of laying the foundation for higher level math that they will be presented with in the coming years. Grammar, while my least favorite subject to teach, is integral to their success in communicating with and understanding written material. In 4th grade, we are immersed in California history throughout the entire school year. Many people fail to see the significance of this particular subject area. I, however, think it is SO valuable to my 4th graders. So much transferable knowledge can be gained as we examine where we have come from as a state (and country) and how we have arrived at the current place we are in. They get to grapple with moral and ethical issues, while developing their critical thinking skills. They are able to see that life is complex and that there are at least two sides to every story.
I could go on and on about the curriculum and its importance, but interestingly enough this was not the area that came to mind in my panic-stricken state. The things I most want them to know and take with them aren’t found in the textbooks and annual lesson plans. They are contained within our discussions and our experiences together. They are heart lessons that I believe are vital for every student to take hold of, whether home-schooled, “private-schooled” or “public-schooled”. I want EVERY child to grab a hold of these things and carry them forward into their lives. More than how to divide, identify a verb phrase, or recite the date the Gold Rush started, these are some of the lessons I want my students to take with them from 4th grade.
- YOU matter. You are important and special in this world and always will be.
- You were wonderfully made to do great things. God didn’t create you to be someone else. He wants you to be the best YOU that you can be.
- You are loved beyond measure.
- Everyone makes mistakes. What is important is that you learn from them.
- You always have a choice. And…with choices come related consequences.
- You should always look for the good in others and treat them with kindness.
- Words are powerful. Being able to communicate with others is a gift, use it for good.
- Doing the right thing is rarely the easy thing. There may be times you have to stand alone to stay true to what you know in your heart is right.
- You should always forgive others. When you forgive someone, you aren’t releasing them from responsibility. You are setting yourself free. Holding on to anger hurts you more than it hurts others.
- You are never too young to make a difference in this world.
- Everyone is unique, each with different talents, skills, strengths, and weaknesses. Never discount someone as insignificant or inferior.
- You will come across things in school that are difficult. Don’t give up! It is during these times when you truly learn.
- There will be times when you fail. It’s okay. You aren’t called to be perfect. That’s Jesus’ job:).
- God never leaves. He is always with you. There is never a day that goes by when you are alone.
It is my hope that, as the year comes to a close, these seeds have been planted in the hearts of my students. As 4th graders, they are already such amazing people with tremendous potential. Knowing that we will part ways in less than two months pains me, but I am so excited to see them grow into who they have been created to be.
(Post actually written on 4/5)
Friday, February 26, 2010
There is more than one way to find your happy place…
If you had told me I would be lying next to the ocean by the end of today, I would have said you were crazy. That is, however, exactly what happened.
My day started early, 12:30am early. That is when the nausea and pain in my stomach awoke me. It was my friend for the rest of the night and needless to say, I was less than enthused when my alarm began buzzing at 6:00. Getting out of bed, I ached from head to toe and still was plagued with nausea. Apparently, this was the result of a super special “bug” my students gave me. Because being sick and missing school really isn’t an option for me right now, I loaded up on many over the counter medicines, swallowed anti-nausea meds, and headed out the door.
I am ashamed to say that my next stop was not school – it was, in fact, Starbucks. Normally this would not be an issue, but I have been engaged in a 21 day fast from coffee and soda. Today was only day 12…
Armed with my sin in a cup, I ventured off to school where I was barraged with questions by my students about the coffee. You see, I had spent quite a bit of time educating them on what it means to fast and explaining the reason for the fast. Today, I spent quite a bit of time, convincing them that drinking this one coffee was okay. I did it for them – so they would have a functional, nice teacher instead of an evil, crabby one. Not surprisingly, they all gave me their full support and I promised to tack a day on at the end to make up for this one. I could consider this coffee a failure, but I much prefer to consider it survival.
Survive I did…the morning actually went well. And then it happened, the drugs started wearing off just as my students began winding up. If you have ever been in a classroom full of kids who have been stuck inside for a multitude of rainy days (especially on a Friday afternoon), you know it is not a place lacking in volume or energy.
I did not want to try and teach Social Studies as I had planned. Did they really need to know how California became a state before this weekend? I thought not. I wanted to go to my happy place.
I actually have several happy places. One of my most happy places is the ocean – not in it – just next to it. I love it. Since going to the ocean right at that moment was not actually going to happen, I decided to bring it to me. In a moment of brilliance, the desire for my happy place gave me the perfect activity for the afternoon.
It just so happens that we are starting an Oceanography unit in the good ol’ 4th grade and today I told my students to create me an ocean!
With some construction paper, glue, markers, tape, and whatever else they could get their little paws on, that is exactly what they did. They eagerly went through their Science chapter, examining what creatures we would need to have represented and created their little hearts out. From sand dollars to squids, from sharks to starfish, from jellyfish to plankton and kelp, they cut and colored and crafted creature after creature. They were reading in their book to gain more information about the creatures as they made them and instructing me as to where they should be placed (near the bottom of the sea, near the top, in kelp, etc). They also decided to use tan construction paper for sand. It was such a blast for me to see how into it they were.
With stapler in hand, I took their creations and put them in place. I then covered everything in blue cellophane (that I just happened to have left over from a prior project) to make everything look under water.
My ocean, okay “our ocean”, turned out great and they were so excited and proud of their handiwork. They didn’t even mind the enormous amount of cleanup that was required.
It was such a blast for me to see how into this impromptu activity they were. I actually forgot how crappy I felt. And as I found myself relaxing on my classroom floor at the end of the day looking at the swimming swordfish and crawling crustaceans, I realized that I had been in one of my happy places the whole time – my classroom with my 23 kids. It is one of my most favorite places to be. It just so happens that I got to be in two of my happy places today – the classroom AND right next to the ocean. I feel pretty blessed.
My day started early, 12:30am early. That is when the nausea and pain in my stomach awoke me. It was my friend for the rest of the night and needless to say, I was less than enthused when my alarm began buzzing at 6:00. Getting out of bed, I ached from head to toe and still was plagued with nausea. Apparently, this was the result of a super special “bug” my students gave me. Because being sick and missing school really isn’t an option for me right now, I loaded up on many over the counter medicines, swallowed anti-nausea meds, and headed out the door.
I am ashamed to say that my next stop was not school – it was, in fact, Starbucks. Normally this would not be an issue, but I have been engaged in a 21 day fast from coffee and soda. Today was only day 12…
Armed with my sin in a cup, I ventured off to school where I was barraged with questions by my students about the coffee. You see, I had spent quite a bit of time educating them on what it means to fast and explaining the reason for the fast. Today, I spent quite a bit of time, convincing them that drinking this one coffee was okay. I did it for them – so they would have a functional, nice teacher instead of an evil, crabby one. Not surprisingly, they all gave me their full support and I promised to tack a day on at the end to make up for this one. I could consider this coffee a failure, but I much prefer to consider it survival.
Survive I did…the morning actually went well. And then it happened, the drugs started wearing off just as my students began winding up. If you have ever been in a classroom full of kids who have been stuck inside for a multitude of rainy days (especially on a Friday afternoon), you know it is not a place lacking in volume or energy.
I did not want to try and teach Social Studies as I had planned. Did they really need to know how California became a state before this weekend? I thought not. I wanted to go to my happy place.
I actually have several happy places. One of my most happy places is the ocean – not in it – just next to it. I love it. Since going to the ocean right at that moment was not actually going to happen, I decided to bring it to me. In a moment of brilliance, the desire for my happy place gave me the perfect activity for the afternoon.
It just so happens that we are starting an Oceanography unit in the good ol’ 4th grade and today I told my students to create me an ocean!
With some construction paper, glue, markers, tape, and whatever else they could get their little paws on, that is exactly what they did. They eagerly went through their Science chapter, examining what creatures we would need to have represented and created their little hearts out. From sand dollars to squids, from sharks to starfish, from jellyfish to plankton and kelp, they cut and colored and crafted creature after creature. They were reading in their book to gain more information about the creatures as they made them and instructing me as to where they should be placed (near the bottom of the sea, near the top, in kelp, etc). They also decided to use tan construction paper for sand. It was such a blast for me to see how into it they were.
With stapler in hand, I took their creations and put them in place. I then covered everything in blue cellophane (that I just happened to have left over from a prior project) to make everything look under water.
My ocean, okay “our ocean”, turned out great and they were so excited and proud of their handiwork. They didn’t even mind the enormous amount of cleanup that was required.
It was such a blast for me to see how into this impromptu activity they were. I actually forgot how crappy I felt. And as I found myself relaxing on my classroom floor at the end of the day looking at the swimming swordfish and crawling crustaceans, I realized that I had been in one of my happy places the whole time – my classroom with my 23 kids. It is one of my most favorite places to be. It just so happens that I got to be in two of my happy places today – the classroom AND right next to the ocean. I feel pretty blessed.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Don’t make me lose it…Control...
Ah…life is never dull. For Christmas this year, I got some pain -Pain that started on the lower right side of my back and then generously spread to the lower right abdominal area. Really, really bad pain that got worse and worse with each passing day. I waited a few weeks to see if it resolved on its own, but no such luck. The pain progressed each day, worsened with activity, and soon was accompanied by intermittent waves of intense nausea and vomiting.
Convinced I had an ovarian cyst, I went to the OB/GYN for an ultrasound. I was more than surprised to learn that my ultrasound was normal. I was also devastated as that meant I had no clue as to what was wrong. I had what can best be described as a full meltdown. Then, I put on my big girl panties, and with some help from Mike, put a plan in place to get this diagnosis train moving.
The next day, 1/22, I had an emergency CT scan. The CT scan showed that my appendix looked abnormal though not indicative of appendicitis, especially given that I had been in pain for weeks. I was ordered to go straight back to the doctor’s office. Unsure of how to proceed with everything, my doctor referred me to a surgeon, one who had operated on me previously. On Tuesday, January 26th, I met with the surgeon who advised me that she really had no clue why I was in so much pain. She told me that my appendix looked funky and, though not emergent, something must be up with it as it just didn’t look normal. She talked with me about scheduling surgery and advised that it would likely require a vertical abdominal incision. Surgery meant anywhere from 2 to 6 weeks away from my class…there was also no guarantee that it would take care of my pain.
The next day at 3:30pm, I met with my principal, discussed the meeting with the doctor, and I laid out my desired plans for this surgery. MY plans included surgery to be scheduled a couple of weeks out, with plenty of time to write detailed lesson plans, talk through it all with my students, meet with my substitute, straighten my classroom…the list goes on. Less than 24 hours after that I was in the ER, 3 hours later I was on the operating table. So much for MY plan…
On Thursday (1/28), I felt like hell all day. I woke up nauseous and it never went away. Around 1:00, I felt like I was going to be sick, and left my classroom in the care of another teacher, while I darted to the bathroom. The next time I would see my class was one week later…Once in bathroom, I was more than sick. I was weak, tingly, faint, and in pain with nausea so overwhelming I could barely stand it. In fact, I really couldn’t stand or walk very well at all. I was basically stuck in the bathroom. If I yelled, I would alarm the students. I literally used the walls and tables in the hall to get to the door of the nearest classroom and poked my head inside to get the attention of a teacher (and dear friend) and then clawed my way back to the bathroom. After that, it was pretty much a scene. The students were ushered into another room so I could be helped into my room without them knowing what was going on. Phone calls were made to administration, my husband, and who knows who else. I knew I was headed to the ER and was clear that if anyone called an ambulance, I would refuse.
As I sat there waiting to be taken to the ER, it all hit me. I was not going to be able to make a single plan come to fruition. I knew I was going to end up in surgery that day. My classroom was a mess. I had no lesson plans written. I had no idea who was going to pick my kids up from school. I had no idea if and when Mike was going to get relieved from the ICU (he is a nurse) to meet me at the hospital. I could not walk without assistance and had no control over my body. I had no idea whether I was going to be out 2 or 6 weeks. I had no idea what the surgeon would find. I literally did not have control over a single thing in my life at that moment. It was the worst feeling ever. It was horrible. It was the most difficult moment, yet it became one of the most freeing moments I have ever experienced. I had no choice but to surrender it all. There was literally nothing I could do, but trust that God would take care of it all.
After being helped to the car by an army of people, I was taken to the hospital by my dear friend, Ashly. My surgeon met me there as did my sister, my husband, and my Darcy. At around seven o’clock that night I had surgery. Much to her surprise, the doctor was able to complete everything in a laparoscopic procedure, removing my appendix and gallbladder. With that, she was not sure if she had resolved my pain as the appendix, while abnormal, showed no signs of appendicitis.
Two weeks later, my pain is gone. The pathology on my appendix came back and it was, in fact, full on acute appendicitis. The doctor was stunned and elated that she had removed it. I was so thankful that I have doctors who go with their gut instinct instead of relying solely on textbook medicine. I had no fever or abnormal white count. My pain was slightly to the left of where it should be for appendicitis. I had pain for weeks. None of this is consistent with appendicitis. If the doctor had chosen to wait, my appendix would have ruptured at some point.
I am so thankful for the immense pain I had for those few weeks. It quite possibly saved my life. I am also thankful to have had the opportunity to experience a full and complete surrender of control. It was an amazing thing. I am so blessed to have amazing friends that I work with everyday that were there for me that Thursday at school and carried the burdens when I was gone. As I reflect back on this entire experience, it is clear God’s hand was all over it – in the big details as well as the seemingly insignificant ones.
Not being one to let this little episode steal my joy, I also laugh when I think of all of the funny things that occurred along the way…
…Stacy holding me in the chair, literally, so I could complete a call to Mike to let him know what was going on
…Watching Ashly, my beloved germ-o-phobe, sanitize her hands more times than I can count during our time together at the hospital
…Convincing the ER doctor at Sutter Memorial to let Ashly drive me over to Sutter General to be admitted there instead of taking an ambulance. I went wearing a hospital gown, 2 blankets, a barf bucket, and an IV still on.
…Listening to my intake nurse at Sutter General who sounded EXACTLY like Anjelah Johnson in the nail salon video on YouTube. You got flu shot?
…Having Darcy call me her little hollow chocolate Easter bunny for the first time (as I am seriously lacking in internal organs now)
I could go on and on…it really was a funny day. Even though this is long, there is so much I left out.
I have no complaints. God is good.
Convinced I had an ovarian cyst, I went to the OB/GYN for an ultrasound. I was more than surprised to learn that my ultrasound was normal. I was also devastated as that meant I had no clue as to what was wrong. I had what can best be described as a full meltdown. Then, I put on my big girl panties, and with some help from Mike, put a plan in place to get this diagnosis train moving.
The next day, 1/22, I had an emergency CT scan. The CT scan showed that my appendix looked abnormal though not indicative of appendicitis, especially given that I had been in pain for weeks. I was ordered to go straight back to the doctor’s office. Unsure of how to proceed with everything, my doctor referred me to a surgeon, one who had operated on me previously. On Tuesday, January 26th, I met with the surgeon who advised me that she really had no clue why I was in so much pain. She told me that my appendix looked funky and, though not emergent, something must be up with it as it just didn’t look normal. She talked with me about scheduling surgery and advised that it would likely require a vertical abdominal incision. Surgery meant anywhere from 2 to 6 weeks away from my class…there was also no guarantee that it would take care of my pain.
The next day at 3:30pm, I met with my principal, discussed the meeting with the doctor, and I laid out my desired plans for this surgery. MY plans included surgery to be scheduled a couple of weeks out, with plenty of time to write detailed lesson plans, talk through it all with my students, meet with my substitute, straighten my classroom…the list goes on. Less than 24 hours after that I was in the ER, 3 hours later I was on the operating table. So much for MY plan…
On Thursday (1/28), I felt like hell all day. I woke up nauseous and it never went away. Around 1:00, I felt like I was going to be sick, and left my classroom in the care of another teacher, while I darted to the bathroom. The next time I would see my class was one week later…Once in bathroom, I was more than sick. I was weak, tingly, faint, and in pain with nausea so overwhelming I could barely stand it. In fact, I really couldn’t stand or walk very well at all. I was basically stuck in the bathroom. If I yelled, I would alarm the students. I literally used the walls and tables in the hall to get to the door of the nearest classroom and poked my head inside to get the attention of a teacher (and dear friend) and then clawed my way back to the bathroom. After that, it was pretty much a scene. The students were ushered into another room so I could be helped into my room without them knowing what was going on. Phone calls were made to administration, my husband, and who knows who else. I knew I was headed to the ER and was clear that if anyone called an ambulance, I would refuse.
As I sat there waiting to be taken to the ER, it all hit me. I was not going to be able to make a single plan come to fruition. I knew I was going to end up in surgery that day. My classroom was a mess. I had no lesson plans written. I had no idea who was going to pick my kids up from school. I had no idea if and when Mike was going to get relieved from the ICU (he is a nurse) to meet me at the hospital. I could not walk without assistance and had no control over my body. I had no idea whether I was going to be out 2 or 6 weeks. I had no idea what the surgeon would find. I literally did not have control over a single thing in my life at that moment. It was the worst feeling ever. It was horrible. It was the most difficult moment, yet it became one of the most freeing moments I have ever experienced. I had no choice but to surrender it all. There was literally nothing I could do, but trust that God would take care of it all.
After being helped to the car by an army of people, I was taken to the hospital by my dear friend, Ashly. My surgeon met me there as did my sister, my husband, and my Darcy. At around seven o’clock that night I had surgery. Much to her surprise, the doctor was able to complete everything in a laparoscopic procedure, removing my appendix and gallbladder. With that, she was not sure if she had resolved my pain as the appendix, while abnormal, showed no signs of appendicitis.
Two weeks later, my pain is gone. The pathology on my appendix came back and it was, in fact, full on acute appendicitis. The doctor was stunned and elated that she had removed it. I was so thankful that I have doctors who go with their gut instinct instead of relying solely on textbook medicine. I had no fever or abnormal white count. My pain was slightly to the left of where it should be for appendicitis. I had pain for weeks. None of this is consistent with appendicitis. If the doctor had chosen to wait, my appendix would have ruptured at some point.
I am so thankful for the immense pain I had for those few weeks. It quite possibly saved my life. I am also thankful to have had the opportunity to experience a full and complete surrender of control. It was an amazing thing. I am so blessed to have amazing friends that I work with everyday that were there for me that Thursday at school and carried the burdens when I was gone. As I reflect back on this entire experience, it is clear God’s hand was all over it – in the big details as well as the seemingly insignificant ones.
Not being one to let this little episode steal my joy, I also laugh when I think of all of the funny things that occurred along the way…
…Stacy holding me in the chair, literally, so I could complete a call to Mike to let him know what was going on
…Watching Ashly, my beloved germ-o-phobe, sanitize her hands more times than I can count during our time together at the hospital
…Convincing the ER doctor at Sutter Memorial to let Ashly drive me over to Sutter General to be admitted there instead of taking an ambulance. I went wearing a hospital gown, 2 blankets, a barf bucket, and an IV still on.
…Listening to my intake nurse at Sutter General who sounded EXACTLY like Anjelah Johnson in the nail salon video on YouTube. You got flu shot?
…Having Darcy call me her little hollow chocolate Easter bunny for the first time (as I am seriously lacking in internal organs now)
I could go on and on…it really was a funny day. Even though this is long, there is so much I left out.
I have no complaints. God is good.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes...
I am blessed to teach 4th grade every day. This week, we have been discussing and exploring the life of Martin Luther King Jr. It has been an amazing time of discussion and learning. We even listened to King’s “I Have a Dream” speech today. It was fantastic to witness how captivated the students were by it. I myself never tire of listening to it. I love the passion and conviction in his voice. I love that his dreams are so personal yet so vast. I think many of us stop truly dreaming as adults. We no longer believe that we can affect change in the world. King’s speech reminds me that the seemingly impossible is very possible.
In preparation for this week, I passed out a sheet to my students asking them some questions to pre-assess where they were at in terms of their knowledge and viewpoints on topics such as prejudice, freedom, and heroes. I also had an open ended entry for them to finish that began with “I have a dream that….” I gave no lessons or prompting before passing it out to complete.
After they turned them in, I sat down to read them. I cried. Yes, I am pretty mushy, but I have to say how blessed I was by what they wrote. They have such amazing hearts and beautiful dreams. Here are some of them – pure and unedited.
I have a dream that…
…everyone will get along.
…no one will be pushed around because of their size or capabilities
…everyone will one day love the one and only God
…we would have world peace and all orphans would be helped
…people would not fight
…all people would live equally
…all people in need of food would get it
…everyone could make their dreams come true
…I can go to the Philippines after raising money and give it to all of the poor people
…there can be more schools
…people will be nice to each other
…no one would be without a job or place to live
…there would be no more cruelty to animals
…everyone would have a house and plenty of food to eat
…everyone would believe in Jesus
In preparation for this week, I passed out a sheet to my students asking them some questions to pre-assess where they were at in terms of their knowledge and viewpoints on topics such as prejudice, freedom, and heroes. I also had an open ended entry for them to finish that began with “I have a dream that….” I gave no lessons or prompting before passing it out to complete.
After they turned them in, I sat down to read them. I cried. Yes, I am pretty mushy, but I have to say how blessed I was by what they wrote. They have such amazing hearts and beautiful dreams. Here are some of them – pure and unedited.
I have a dream that…
…everyone will get along.
…no one will be pushed around because of their size or capabilities
…everyone will one day love the one and only God
…we would have world peace and all orphans would be helped
…people would not fight
…all people would live equally
…all people in need of food would get it
…everyone could make their dreams come true
…I can go to the Philippines after raising money and give it to all of the poor people
…there can be more schools
…people will be nice to each other
…no one would be without a job or place to live
…there would be no more cruelty to animals
…everyone would have a house and plenty of food to eat
…everyone would believe in Jesus
Sunday, January 10, 2010
I Don't Sleep, I Dream
I am a dreamer - literally. Every night I dream, always in full color with stunning amounts of detail. This has been the case since I was a child. Most nights, I have several dreams and I do not buy for a minute that dreams are only 30-60 seconds each. Who came up with that anyway? Talk to my husband, who learned a long time ago to ask for the “readers digest" version of my dreams, and he will assure you that there is no way all that transpires in one of my dreams takes place in a minute. Some of my dreams are simply random, with various people from past and present and even faces I have never seen before. Sometime people change into other people as the dreams progress. I have died in my dreams and yes, I remain alive. I have had a gazillion dreams where I am in danger and call 911 only to have the phone not work, receive a busy signal, or be rendered unable to speak when the operator answers. I have had repeat dreams and often wake up from a dream, only to go right back into it when I fall back asleep. I have even gone back into a dream, starting over at the beginning, and changed the outcome.
I have had my share of nightmares, but some of the most powerful dreams I have had, have been those who reveal something to me about myself or those around me. I do a lot of processing in my sleep. I come up with my best solutions to problems and plan entire lessons for my class while sleeping. I have written full poems in my dreams. I have often said I think God uses my dreams to speak to me because it is the only time I am “still” enough to pay attention.
I am used to having an active dream life, but every once in a while, I have a dream that stays with me. I had such a dream last week that is still resonating in my mind. This dream was like a series of vignettes, each seemingly independent from another, that took place over a series of many years. In the first, I met a Russian boy who was new to my high school and was looking to make new friends. In another, I met up with a woman who needed some assistance with her daughter that had Down’s syndrome. A third scenario had me visiting someone in the hospital and coming across an African American nurse named Karniela(?) who was having an very hard time emotionally and needed some encouragement. There were about 3 more such scenarios, all with different people in different situations requiring either assistance or kindness.
In the final vignette of this dream, I was traveling overseas for some reason with a friend, and was in what appeared to be a Middle Eastern country. We were walking on a neighborhood street and, out of nowhere, soldiers or officers of some type appeared and arrested us. The street was full of people. As I was getting put into a vehicle to be taken into custody, I met eyes with a woman who appeared to recognize me. I could not see the rest of her as she was wearing a burka. My friend and I were taken to some kind of holding cell. I was sure that we were not ever going to be released and was bracing myself for what was going to happen to us. A while later, a man showed up and talked to the guards. We were immediately released into his custody. I was very confused. It was at this point that he began to tell me that it was his wife with whom I had locked eyes with and that she knew of me from a picture on a family member’s mantle. She had not only seen the picture but been told of a story of how I had impacted this family with a simple interaction years ago - it was a family from one of the early vignettes in the dream. And then, slowly it was revealed how all of the previous vignettes had led up to this moment. All of the people in the dream were connected in various ways. The nurse I met in the hospital had been a nurse who provided care for the child with Down’s syndrome. It went on and on. It was like this big reveal in flashback - like in Crash or the Sixth Sense.
When I woke up, I was a little overwhelmed. It was a huge dream and I was trying to take it all in. I really wanted to write it all down, but it was SO much (which is why the above is very much a “readers digest” version.) I have been kicking it around in my mind for about a week, trying to figure out what it all meant. It obviously wasn’t your standard dream; I am supposed to glean something from it. I do not think that the point was being nice to people because you may need to be bailed out some day. I think it was much deeper than that.
In each scenario, I was presented with a situation and had a choice in how to respond. I could show kindness and/or provide assistance or simply ignore the need. Now obviously, given that the dream spanned many years and I aged as it went, these weren’t the only interactions I would have had with people throughout that time span. These were, however, the ones that led up to my release.
What I have taken from this dream so far is that every interaction is an opportunity. With everyone I met, I have a choice to be self-centered and guarded or reach out. In life, we face situations like this every day. Do we offer a kind word if we notice a store cashier is sad? Do we even notice? Do we reach out to someone at the doctor’s office waiting room who appears upset or focus solely on our own ailments? Do we get outside of ourselves enough to take as many opportunities as possible to positively affect others’ lives?
In this dream,each scenario presented me with a choice. It is funny and ironic to me that in the last scenario, it was someone else who had to choose whether or not to show kindness and assistance to me. I was at the mercy of others. This woman could have easily chosen to turn away and pretend like she didn’t know me. She could have done nothing. Instead, she probably took great risks given her culture and chose to help me. Her seizing an opportunity blessed me. The dream easily could have ended with me being set free, Instead, it closed with this reveal of sorts that showed how everything was all tied together in this amazing sequence of interactions. I still grapple with this question...If I made the choice to "look the other way" in one of the earlier scenarios, would I have been released in the end? Perhaps there will be a sequel!
I have had my share of nightmares, but some of the most powerful dreams I have had, have been those who reveal something to me about myself or those around me. I do a lot of processing in my sleep. I come up with my best solutions to problems and plan entire lessons for my class while sleeping. I have written full poems in my dreams. I have often said I think God uses my dreams to speak to me because it is the only time I am “still” enough to pay attention.
I am used to having an active dream life, but every once in a while, I have a dream that stays with me. I had such a dream last week that is still resonating in my mind. This dream was like a series of vignettes, each seemingly independent from another, that took place over a series of many years. In the first, I met a Russian boy who was new to my high school and was looking to make new friends. In another, I met up with a woman who needed some assistance with her daughter that had Down’s syndrome. A third scenario had me visiting someone in the hospital and coming across an African American nurse named Karniela(?) who was having an very hard time emotionally and needed some encouragement. There were about 3 more such scenarios, all with different people in different situations requiring either assistance or kindness.
In the final vignette of this dream, I was traveling overseas for some reason with a friend, and was in what appeared to be a Middle Eastern country. We were walking on a neighborhood street and, out of nowhere, soldiers or officers of some type appeared and arrested us. The street was full of people. As I was getting put into a vehicle to be taken into custody, I met eyes with a woman who appeared to recognize me. I could not see the rest of her as she was wearing a burka. My friend and I were taken to some kind of holding cell. I was sure that we were not ever going to be released and was bracing myself for what was going to happen to us. A while later, a man showed up and talked to the guards. We were immediately released into his custody. I was very confused. It was at this point that he began to tell me that it was his wife with whom I had locked eyes with and that she knew of me from a picture on a family member’s mantle. She had not only seen the picture but been told of a story of how I had impacted this family with a simple interaction years ago - it was a family from one of the early vignettes in the dream. And then, slowly it was revealed how all of the previous vignettes had led up to this moment. All of the people in the dream were connected in various ways. The nurse I met in the hospital had been a nurse who provided care for the child with Down’s syndrome. It went on and on. It was like this big reveal in flashback - like in Crash or the Sixth Sense.
When I woke up, I was a little overwhelmed. It was a huge dream and I was trying to take it all in. I really wanted to write it all down, but it was SO much (which is why the above is very much a “readers digest” version.) I have been kicking it around in my mind for about a week, trying to figure out what it all meant. It obviously wasn’t your standard dream; I am supposed to glean something from it. I do not think that the point was being nice to people because you may need to be bailed out some day. I think it was much deeper than that.
In each scenario, I was presented with a situation and had a choice in how to respond. I could show kindness and/or provide assistance or simply ignore the need. Now obviously, given that the dream spanned many years and I aged as it went, these weren’t the only interactions I would have had with people throughout that time span. These were, however, the ones that led up to my release.
What I have taken from this dream so far is that every interaction is an opportunity. With everyone I met, I have a choice to be self-centered and guarded or reach out. In life, we face situations like this every day. Do we offer a kind word if we notice a store cashier is sad? Do we even notice? Do we reach out to someone at the doctor’s office waiting room who appears upset or focus solely on our own ailments? Do we get outside of ourselves enough to take as many opportunities as possible to positively affect others’ lives?
In this dream,each scenario presented me with a choice. It is funny and ironic to me that in the last scenario, it was someone else who had to choose whether or not to show kindness and assistance to me. I was at the mercy of others. This woman could have easily chosen to turn away and pretend like she didn’t know me. She could have done nothing. Instead, she probably took great risks given her culture and chose to help me. Her seizing an opportunity blessed me. The dream easily could have ended with me being set free, Instead, it closed with this reveal of sorts that showed how everything was all tied together in this amazing sequence of interactions. I still grapple with this question...If I made the choice to "look the other way" in one of the earlier scenarios, would I have been released in the end? Perhaps there will be a sequel!
Saturday, January 9, 2010
'Tis Time to Chasse
Ah…square dancing…Did you partake in this as part of junior high gym class, too? The girls would line up on one side of the gym, the boys on the other, and we would take turns crossing the vast gym floor to ask someone of the opposite gender to dance. This is one of my most entertaining and horrifying memories. Nothing says let’s help these kids learn about potential (and actual) rejection now, like the square dance.
Now, you couldn’t actually say “no” if someone asked you to dance. But we all know there is more than one way to reject someone…an eye roll, a disgusted glance, a shudder, a side comment to a friend…I could go on. It’s not any actual rejection that I remember receiving that cements this memory in my mind. Instead, what I recall most vividly is the moment right before we had to “put ourselves out there” and walk across the floor. I was fine watching others do it – I was even very supportive of my friends. I was also fine having someone come to me. But when it was my turn to step forward and take the risk, it was, well, nauseating.
For as bold as I am, part of me remains the 7th grader who wants to stay on the comfy side of the gymnasium. I am very supportive of others and gladly participate in response to someone. When it comes to stepping out in vulnerability, I often stifle myself. If I am never the one to cross the gym floor, I can never really going to be subject to any form of rejection. It’s really that simple and that sad. Authentically expressing myself in a blog is like crossing the gym floor for me. I know that not everyone will agree or like things I have to say, but this is me. I step out on to the floor knowing full well that I may get an eye roll, a disgusted glance, a shudder, a side comment to a friend, or even a direct tongue lashing. So be it. I do not believe in letting fear guide my choices. Fear paralyzes and keeps us from truly becoming who we are called to be.
So I shall write whatever is on my mind – from the random to the meaningful. And while I hope my blog periodically makes you smile or think, I must be honest in saying it really is for me:). It is my self-made challenge to “chasse” across the floor and it starts right here.
For your enjoyment...
http://www.mrgym.com/DanceandRythmic/SquareDance.htm
Now, you couldn’t actually say “no” if someone asked you to dance. But we all know there is more than one way to reject someone…an eye roll, a disgusted glance, a shudder, a side comment to a friend…I could go on. It’s not any actual rejection that I remember receiving that cements this memory in my mind. Instead, what I recall most vividly is the moment right before we had to “put ourselves out there” and walk across the floor. I was fine watching others do it – I was even very supportive of my friends. I was also fine having someone come to me. But when it was my turn to step forward and take the risk, it was, well, nauseating.
For as bold as I am, part of me remains the 7th grader who wants to stay on the comfy side of the gymnasium. I am very supportive of others and gladly participate in response to someone. When it comes to stepping out in vulnerability, I often stifle myself. If I am never the one to cross the gym floor, I can never really going to be subject to any form of rejection. It’s really that simple and that sad. Authentically expressing myself in a blog is like crossing the gym floor for me. I know that not everyone will agree or like things I have to say, but this is me. I step out on to the floor knowing full well that I may get an eye roll, a disgusted glance, a shudder, a side comment to a friend, or even a direct tongue lashing. So be it. I do not believe in letting fear guide my choices. Fear paralyzes and keeps us from truly becoming who we are called to be.
So I shall write whatever is on my mind – from the random to the meaningful. And while I hope my blog periodically makes you smile or think, I must be honest in saying it really is for me:). It is my self-made challenge to “chasse” across the floor and it starts right here.
For your enjoyment...
http://www.mrgym.com/DanceandRythmic/SquareDance.htm
Friday, January 1, 2010
Just Dance...
"I hope you dance" - These are the words found above my daughter's door. This plaque was especially chosen for her by her daddy and I. I want her to dance every day of her life. It's what she was created to do. It is what we were all created to do.
When I look at my daughter, Natalie, I see the dancer I want to be when I grow up. She dances with abandon. She moves from a passion within. She dances HER dance - not one that is choreographed or set before her - it is all her own. It is pure and free. It is not driven by others. It is not inhibited. It is fully alive. Natalie dances from the song within her own heart and it is a beautiful sight to behold. The beauty comes not from some amazing talent, but instead, from her ability to dance boldly in who she is. At 6, she inspires me to dance freely and fully, embracing who I am and was created to be.
I want to dance like Natalie in all I do. I want to constantly move to the song that has been placed in my heart. I want to embrace each opportunity and live each day to the fullest. I want to dance freely in who I was created to be, not worrying about the audience reaction or critic reviews.
Maya Angelou once said, :"A woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing. She goes where she will without pretense and arrives at her destination prepared to be herself and only herself ." This is how I want my dance to be. My dance is not a performance for others. My dance comes from an innate desire to be fully alive and surrender to rhythm of my Creator.
Whether I am dancing with joy or "dancing it out" to move through a difficult situation, I choose to dance each day. I may not always know the right steps or be on beat, but it is my desire to always be authentically me. In the words of that wise Ren McCormick, "This is our time to dance. It is our way of celebrating life. It's the way it was in the beginning. It's the way it's always been. It's the way it should be now."
When I look at my daughter, Natalie, I see the dancer I want to be when I grow up. She dances with abandon. She moves from a passion within. She dances HER dance - not one that is choreographed or set before her - it is all her own. It is pure and free. It is not driven by others. It is not inhibited. It is fully alive. Natalie dances from the song within her own heart and it is a beautiful sight to behold. The beauty comes not from some amazing talent, but instead, from her ability to dance boldly in who she is. At 6, she inspires me to dance freely and fully, embracing who I am and was created to be.
I want to dance like Natalie in all I do. I want to constantly move to the song that has been placed in my heart. I want to embrace each opportunity and live each day to the fullest. I want to dance freely in who I was created to be, not worrying about the audience reaction or critic reviews.
Maya Angelou once said, :"A woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing. She goes where she will without pretense and arrives at her destination prepared to be herself and only herself ." This is how I want my dance to be. My dance is not a performance for others. My dance comes from an innate desire to be fully alive and surrender to rhythm of my Creator.
Whether I am dancing with joy or "dancing it out" to move through a difficult situation, I choose to dance each day. I may not always know the right steps or be on beat, but it is my desire to always be authentically me. In the words of that wise Ren McCormick, "This is our time to dance. It is our way of celebrating life. It's the way it was in the beginning. It's the way it's always been. It's the way it should be now."
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