Honesty.

I'm tired.  I feel beat up by teaching this week.  So far it has been such a roller coaster of happy and frustrating moments.  This week I'm on the frustrating down-swing.  I feel ineffective, which I know must be the root of my dissatisfaction.  I just don't get why sometimes I feel highly effective and other times I feel like I suck.  I've been told time and time again that this is what it feels like to be a first-year teacher, but sometimes it is hard to remember what it feels like when it's good.  I'm nowhere close to throwing in the towel, I am just feeling frustrated and think it's important to be honest about it.

Even with this feeling, I don't regret my decision to teach.  It has changed my life.  It has made me tougher and given me back a lot of my self confidence in dealing with people that went missing for awhile.  It has gotten me out of working in a windowless cube for eleven hours a day, (not that I'm working less, because really I'm working more, and for far less money).  I now know what the weather is like outside and get to actually be outside during daylight hours.  I get to watch the seasons change and hardly sit in front of a computer.  I get to talk to people all the time, young and old.  I finally use my Spanish.  I get to be a dork and the kids love me all the more for it.  Even if my hours are long, I get some flexibility in choosing when to spend them, and I get more than three weeks off a year.  Most days I feel like I'm making an important difference in the world, even if it is hard.

So with that little dose of honesty, I will gather myself together and do it all again tomorrow.

Make it fun, damn it.

Today I had a lot of time to reflect on my teaching at our regional professional development day.

The last couple of days have been challenging.  The students were beginning to go through the routine of the day with fewer reminders from me, so I took a couple of steps back, and as soon as they smelled the freedom, they went wild.  The last two days have been me stepping back into my vigilantly strict role, which has left my classroom a little somber and a little boring, at least to me.  I have a hard time being strict and fun simultaneously.

However, today, I declare no more!  I am determined to be fun and strict simultaneously.  Students that cannot handle it will just sit out of the fun.  Problem solved.  I've noticed that some of the best days that we've had have been days with little surprises, little quirky joyful moments, little rewards.  One of my favorite moments of this school year so far was when a student taught our whole class, including me, how to shuffle, (see below).



With this recent memory in mind, I have a plan for tomorrow.  In listening to me go on and on about all of the attention seeking behavior in my classroom, my husband suggested that I have a mini-talent show at the end of the day on a semi-regular basis if the students earn it.  I'm so excited to see how it goes.  I'm going to have three different randomly selected judges that write positive adjectives on their white boards after each round instead of scores.  I'm also going to have a theme song (Huskies got talent, yes we do, huskies got talent, we'll show you!).  And, last, but not least, I'm going to have a game show host.  Now, all I need is the talent!  I know there are dancers, rappers, joke tellers, magicians, and singers all looking for a little extra love in my room.  Here's to hoping that they come out of their shells and participate tomorrow...

I'm determined to make it fun, damn it.  For their sake and mine.

Patience is a virtue

Growing up there were a lot of sayings in my family.

This too shall pass.

Life's not fair.

Patience is a virtue.

I cannot help but wonder how far back these sayings go.  I know that my grandparents used to say them, but did their grandparents say them too?  What about their grandparents?

I also wonder what hardships these sayings originated from, because clearly these are the words of people that have known hardship.

As I go about my day, I often hear these words of supposed wisdom in my head.  And, while I recognize their truths, I recently began to simultaneously question their faults.

This too shall pass screams to me a certain resignation in the present, an omission of the power of action in creating happiness.

Life's not fair has a similar ring.  Why can't it be?  Why don't we rise up and make it fair?  (At least as much as anything is in our control...).

And, finally, patience is a virtue makes me think that maybe patience is overrated.  Patience can be the kind of thing that numbs you into submission as you wait for things to improve.

I definitely see a pattern in my new-found interpretation of these truths.  A certain laissez faire attitude about life that is not in my nature.  I guess that is probably why I had to hear these sayings so many times as a child.  I was frequently displeased with the present, enraged by injustice, and impatient.  But, who is to say that those things are so bad if they make you take action toward something better?

Even so, I doubt that these sayings will disappear with me.  As much as they irk me, they're also part of me.  I have already found myself saying them to my students and, I'm sure, I'll also say them to my own children.  They're easy fixes to complaints, even if they leave the recipient a little unsatisfied.

So, as I feel impatient and frustrated about some of the circumstances in my life, I guess that I should remind myself that patience is a virtue and that this too shall pass.  I just wish that I could find a way to not want it to pass.

Maybe I need some new sayings.

Sometimes it's best said by a ten-year-old...

Today I reluctantly taught my class of fourth graders about 9-11.  I was reluctant because I did not know if they would be mature enough to show respect for the content and I did not want to seem like I had an agenda.  I also worried that I would be repeating something that they had already heard over and over throughout their short lives.

To my relief, they were enthralled and respectful.  To my surprise, when I told them about how I watched the day unfold on September 11, 2001, I got some serious goosebumps.  It was so strange to stand in front of 29 people that knew so little about what happened.  Most of them were not even born yet.  Explaining what the day was like for me made me remember how much fear I felt that day.  I never realized how it affected me, even though I heard over and over on the news that it changed my generation.

I tried to keep the content pretty mild and absent of any political undertones one direction or the other.  We read what it was like for a student that went to school down the street from the WTC and watched a short kid-friendly video about the sequence of events that day.  After our discussion and free-write, the kids decorated a small quilt square in memory of what happened.

One student, a boy that speaks English as a second language and sometimes has trouble expressing himself, called me over as he was working.  He was so excited to tell me what September 11 had taught him.

He said that it taught him to enjoy life because you never know what will happen.

Apparently teaching these kids about September 11 was more worthwhile than I expected.

Choice

I did not choose to be straight.


Every time I hear someone say that being gay is a choice, I laugh.  I cannot help but then imagine whether the person that is saying this decided to be straight.  Did they sit there and consciously decide who to be sexually attracted to?  Are they admitting that they could be gay if they did not decide to be straight?


Put yourself in the reverse shoes.  Can you imagine forcing yourself to be gay just to fit in?  I can't.  I'd "choose" to love Alex anyway, even if meant I had to become a pariah in some circles.


***


This morning I began my day by perusing the New York Times on my phone.  I've found that this tactic is far more effective than the snooze button because it forces my brain to wake up and gives me something to look forward to... Yes, I am a nerd.  Yes, I also look at Facebook, which is why you may get 5:55 AM messages from me.


Back to the subject at hand, I woke up to an article on gay students being bullied and committing suicide in Minnesota.  The school district has a policy that teachers "shall remain neutral on matters regarding sexual orientation" that has resulted in many teachers ignoring or mishandling the bullying of gay students.  Apparently, it is difficult to address the bullying of gay students without also sending a message that gay students, and thus being gay, should be accepted.


I find this appalling.  As a country, we have more-or-less figured out how to accept different religious beliefs, but many of us still refuse to accept different sexual orientations to the point that young people are killing themselves as not to have to go to school.  At my own high school growing up, I remember being filled with anger as I listened to the football players harass two boys in my PE class, ruthlessly calling them fags, among other things.  If I only knew then what I know now.  If I only had the courage then that I have now.


Even though I clearly believe that being gay is not a choice, (nor something to be ashamed of), I do not understand why acceptance of homosexuality in schools is interpreted to be the same thing as endorsement.  I also do not understand how those teachers could interpret the district policy as a directive to underplay the bullying of gay students.  As a teacher, I understand that sometimes bullying is difficult to pinpoint, especially since there is always more to the story than shared.  However, acceptance of all students is non-negotiable for me.  I do not understand how, regardless of core beliefs, it could be negotiable for anyone else.


My heart goes out to all of the students in this article and all of the people in this world that get mistreated for being themselves.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/13/us/13bully.html

Side note: Not exactly sure what's up with the spacing of this post...  

Dog Lovers Unite

I am pretty sure that the happiest thing that happened in my life in 2010 was my dog.  Maybe that sounds bad to some, but, for anyone that has ever really fallen in love with a pet, you know what I mean.  It does not matter if you just rode the train to Berkeley and back to go to a job that you dislike.  It does not matter if you spent 10 hours at school and still have four hours of homework to do before waking up at the crack of dawn and doing it all again.  As soon as you come home to a sweet dog friend that is happy to see you, all of the frustration from the day melts away, at least for a little bit.  I do not know how many times I've come home from a hard day and curled up with my dog and felt instantly better.

I actually watched this cool Nova program that likened petting a dog to the same levels of oxytocin released by breast-feeding mothers, (I know, a strange comparison).  Apparently, the dog also releases elevated levels of oxytocin.  I guess that helps to explain the bonding that occurs!  Alex and I both admit to having a freakishly strong love for our dog.  Not that you didn't already know that.

At any rate, I just wanted to share one of my unexpected keys to great happiness in life.  Simon always knows how to make me smile.  Sure, I have plenty of pictures taken of him with my actual camera, but this recent pose is one of my favorites.  I call it pillow love.

If you're interested in watching the Nova program, you can stream it on Netflix, (it's really cool!):

http://movies.netflix.com/Movie/Dogs-Decoded-Nova/70148726

Something Old

Yesterday after I wrote about my necklace, I remembered how as a kid I used to carry around a good luck charm in my pocket.  In elementary school alone, I went to four different schools, and often had trouble making new friends in the beginning.  Somewhere along the way, I devised a plan to carry the little porcelain chick below in my pocket.  Just like the necklace, it helped to give me both courage and comfort when I felt alone.  Given its small size, I'm amazed that I never lost it!

Now that I teach kids, the chick is a good reminder that sometimes we all need something magical to believe in.  I've noticed that many of them carry little toys in their pockets that I confiscate throughout the day.  It never occurred to me that some of these toys might be a source of strength when they need it!  

Tomorrow I will bring my little chick to class and share my story with them.  Maybe it will mean something to some of them. I just hope that I can help make their childhoods a little happier, (even if I still have to temporarily confiscate their good luck charms from time to time!).  

Live Life, Be Brave

I'm thinking about getting a tattoo.

One of my most childish secrets is that when I was grappling most with my anxiety, I would put on the necklace below each day as a reminder to be brave.  It helped.  A lot.  Even now that my anxiety is just a whisper, I still wear it almost everyday, accompanied by one of two Celtic knots.

Thank you Jen for the poignant reminder to live, and Alex for the Celtic knots of our family.

As I was putting it on the other day, I thought that maybe I should get those words tattooed on me, as a permanent reminder that life is short and that it is up to me to be brave and live it.  It is a funny thing in life how living to our full potential often takes the greatest courage.  I do not want to ever forget that I control my courage instead of my courage controlling me.

If I choose to get a tattoo, I also want to integrate the tree of life somehow.  I am fascinated by its symbolism throughout many cultures, including the Celts.  It annoys me that the tree is becoming trendy, because my connection to it roots back further, to my childhood.  I used to sit high up in the branches of old trees and talk to them.  They even told me their secrets about life and our interconnectedness.  No, I was not on drugs.  Yes, maybe I am part hippie.

All joking aside, I really never thought that there would be anything permanent enough for me to want to have tattooed on my body.  However, anyone that really knows me, knows that I am an odd mixture of over-thinking and impulse.  It will be interesting to see which side wins this battle...  Maybe I should just buy myself a tree of life charm to add to my necklace and save myself the trouble!

Here is Your Life...

The night before last I had a dream that I showed up at my dad's house and found a party in my honor in the backyard.  Attending this party were all of the people in my life that have ever mattered to me, even if only for brief periods or in small but significant ways.  If you are reading this, you were probably there, too.  It was a little like my wedding but bigger in scope because of the wide range of people there.  It was one of those dreams that remains visually haunting throughout your day, almost as though you're still dreaming it hours later.

The funny thing is that I spent the whole day thinking back to the "Here is Your Life" segment of Sesame Street where all of the old friends and family magically appear to surprise the contestant, (in this case a carton of eggs!):



Okay, I know that was corny, (pun and reference to the clip intended), but it is interesting to me that "Here is Your Life" was the most memorable segment of Sesame Street for me growing up.  I've often thought back to it over the years, even if my memory of it was a little different than the reality of watching it for the first time in decades just now.  But, I often find that dreams are like those segments as people from your past mysteriously reappear from the depths of your subconscious.  This most recent dream was like "Here is Your Life" on steroids with a combination of both long-lost and present friends and family all together in one space in my brain.  It left me thinking about how many people have touched my life in various ways and how the routine of life limits how much time I have for everyone, even those that are closest to me.

This is an important reminder because I deeply believe that it is the connections that we share with the people in our lives that make life matter.  I feel like the universe has been shouting this at me between the events in my family this week and this dream that still will not leave my head.  On both sides of my family there will be gatherings in the next two weeks that mark the importance of coming together.



These pictures of then and now-ish of my dad's family gatherings are a tribute to my Uncle Mike, who was good at bringing us together, and to my big family, who I hope will come together more often in the coming years.



So, here is my life, and I am happy that you are ALL part of it!