Well, I've made it through eight whole weeks of Pre-K. Although there was
apprehension, fear, excitement and a dash of doubt, I have survived the
first five weeks of school and more importantly, so have my students.
I
have an interesting band of 17 misfits with big personalities and even
bigger needs. It's definitely been a challenge to learn what motivates
them and what manipulation techniques I can use to persuade them to
follow the rules or "make good choices" as we say in my classroom.
With that said, here are the top ten Pre-K moments so far with my band of misfits:
10. Reminding me that They are Little People Still Learning Right From Wrong: Don't know why this is number 10, but yesterday a student went into the bathroom and after I shut the curtain behind him (not more than two minutes) I heard a huge crash in the bathroom...he broke something...well, it turns out he pushed the cover off of the toilet lid and it smashed to the ground. Not sure how he lifted it or why he did it but when I asked him if it was a good choice, he didn't know. Needless to say, now he doesn't get the curtain shut behind him anymore and the toilet has a cardboard box over the tank.
9. Their Sense of Justice: Since day one, I have repeated the line: "Pre-K is fair" to my students with the hopes that they'll gain a better understanding of sharing. Well, this week,one of my students with an IEP (specialized plan for children with special needs) was watching as another student run up to the schedule and tear off the arrow pointing to where we were in the schedule. B was so appalled by this action, apparently, that he got up from the carpet, took the arrow from the other student saying, "No, N, that's not OK. You're not making good choices" and he put the arrow back on the schedule. I didn't have to say anything...B felt a sense of injustice and wanted to right the wrong.
8. Creativity: during an assessment, one of the questions is - does he/she
know his/her full name? I asked one little girl what her name was and
she said, "Claire". Then I asked, "Claire? What? What's your last name?"
She stopped, thought for a second and smiled brightly while screaming,
"Claire Polka Dot!"
7. Their Grasp on Reality: I took my students on a listening walk but before we went, I asked them, "what do you think we'll hear on our listening walk?" Their answers go as follows: -a firetruck -a car -a dog -a plane -a tractor trailer and my favorite, a princess turning strawberries into frogs. I love that in my job description, I am not allowed to correct them, this was a brainstorming activity and you never know, we might've heard a princess turning strawberries into frogs on our listening walk.
6. The Innocence of their Thoughts: It's inevitable that a handful of my students are going to be listening to the same music as I. I recently heard a few students singing Robin Thicke's "Blurred Lines" which is 100% about sex. My students kept repeating the same lyric over and over: "I know you want it. I know you want it." So I finally asked them, "What do you think he wants?" and without a beat they responded, "I don't know, a cookie?"
5. Their Emotions: The emotions they have are so pure and raw and honest that it's beautiful. When they give you a hug, it's the best hug you've ever gotten. Yesterday a student was very sad after his mom left and my youngest student turned to him and said, "it's OK, mommies always come back" as she rubbed his back.
4. Their Ability to Roll With the Punches: We were reading Caps for Sale and it was my third read through and by this point they knew most of the words in the story because a few lines repeats over and over again. I read one of these repetitious lines, "Caps! Caps, for sale! 50 cents a cap!" and they read it with me. When it came time for the line again they anxiously yelled, "Caps! Caps, for sale! 50 dollars a cap!" I stopped, and smiled in disbelief and said, "wait, wait, wait, is this because of inflation?" And they screamed, "yes, caps are expensive!"
3. Their Ideas of beauty: while playing beauty parlor with my hair, they have pulled out probably half of my scalp...but as they constantly tell me, "it's all to make you more beautiful" and then one little girl screams, "we need more grease!" Still trying to figure this one out.
2. Discovering Little Boys' Problems with Being Easily Distracted: I learned very quickly that when a little boy is using the bathroom, that is the WORST time to say his name (unless, of course, you don't mind cleaning up urine off the floor, toilet seat, walls, step stool, his clothing and yours as well).
1. Potty Humor: I had a little boy who went #2 on the toilet and as I popped my head in to see if he was OK and asked, "hey, man is everything alright in here?" He lit up, hopped down from the toilet, turned around and bent over (spreading his cheeks wide open in front of me). I looked at his bum and then him and said, "you can wipe. Ms. Katie doesn't wipe" and walked away.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Measuring Our Success
In my Pre-K classroom the measure of success isn't with the things one would usually expect. Yes, academics like knowing your letters, counting, knowing the shapes and colors are all very important but the thing that the parents ask for the most and the assessment that carries the most weight is the one measuring their child's level of personal/social interactions and empathy.
I made the silly mistake on my first home visit of being overly prepared to report to the parents all the letters and numbers their child knew and I even brought some example writing samples their child had done but the funny thing was when we started talking they didn't really care about the materials I had prepared. They wanted to know how their son was interacting with other children. And when it came time for them to make a "goal" for their child it wasn't for him to master writing his name or being able to read, but it was for him to make a friend and sympathize better with his peers.
That got me thinking, how do we get from those goals of empathizing with our peers to turning a blind eye to the needs of others. With the "recent" government shutdown, it's been a bit of a mess here in DC. Many are furloughed and many are in danger of not being able to pay their bills. I have friends who aren't getting paid but are still working and are nervous about how their rent will be paid.
Even though these realities exist it's amazing to me that there are people (a-hem, FOX news) that voice their opinions in between chuckles, "so a few tourists won't be able to see Statue of Liberty or the National Parks, this isn't a catastrophe like the democrats are trying to say it is."
To put some perspective on it, and to share an interesting fact; the District of Columbia has a budget controlled by the House. We have no "rainy day funds" or state funds backing us up. Meaning, this Tuesday will be the last time teachers in the public schools will be paid and charter schools (like mine) will lose funding on Oct. 25th. It appears that two sides are arguing and fighting over things that (in my opinion) seem minuscule compared to libraries, schools, trash companies, post offices and food inspection companies being shut down. The stubborn-ness and lack of compassion (and empathy) for those they are hurting is appalling. So, I wonder, is it funny now? When does it become a catastrophe, my friends? When do citizens start to demand more and cry out in disgust and anger?
In my classroom if two students are arguing and can't come to a resolution we talk it through to see both sides until a resolution is met that both parties can deal with; and if that doesn't happen, they sit in time out. Does our government need a time out? Maybe equal treatment like their paychecks being withheld? Or maybe just a return to Pre-K so they can remember what we should be measuring success by: empathy.
I made the silly mistake on my first home visit of being overly prepared to report to the parents all the letters and numbers their child knew and I even brought some example writing samples their child had done but the funny thing was when we started talking they didn't really care about the materials I had prepared. They wanted to know how their son was interacting with other children. And when it came time for them to make a "goal" for their child it wasn't for him to master writing his name or being able to read, but it was for him to make a friend and sympathize better with his peers.
That got me thinking, how do we get from those goals of empathizing with our peers to turning a blind eye to the needs of others. With the "recent" government shutdown, it's been a bit of a mess here in DC. Many are furloughed and many are in danger of not being able to pay their bills. I have friends who aren't getting paid but are still working and are nervous about how their rent will be paid.
Even though these realities exist it's amazing to me that there are people (a-hem, FOX news) that voice their opinions in between chuckles, "so a few tourists won't be able to see Statue of Liberty or the National Parks, this isn't a catastrophe like the democrats are trying to say it is."
To put some perspective on it, and to share an interesting fact; the District of Columbia has a budget controlled by the House. We have no "rainy day funds" or state funds backing us up. Meaning, this Tuesday will be the last time teachers in the public schools will be paid and charter schools (like mine) will lose funding on Oct. 25th. It appears that two sides are arguing and fighting over things that (in my opinion) seem minuscule compared to libraries, schools, trash companies, post offices and food inspection companies being shut down. The stubborn-ness and lack of compassion (and empathy) for those they are hurting is appalling. So, I wonder, is it funny now? When does it become a catastrophe, my friends? When do citizens start to demand more and cry out in disgust and anger?
In my classroom if two students are arguing and can't come to a resolution we talk it through to see both sides until a resolution is met that both parties can deal with; and if that doesn't happen, they sit in time out. Does our government need a time out? Maybe equal treatment like their paychecks being withheld? Or maybe just a return to Pre-K so they can remember what we should be measuring success by: empathy.
Friday, September 13, 2013
All I Need is a Mix Tape
Call me a modern day woman or (more likely) correctly identifying my Love Language but I am struck by a song a just heard on the radio which prompted a conversation with my roommate about what I'd want from "my man".
I was listening to Bruno Mars' song, "If I was Your Man" and felt a little funny about it because the chorus goes: "Well, I should've bought you flowers and held your hand. Should've given you all my hours, when I had the chance. Taken you to every party, because I know how you like to dance."
Now, I'm not one to argue with the wisdom of pop music now-a-days (especially since the 2012 hit, "Instagram that Hoe" came out) BUT I do believe women are expecting more from their significant others than 1) flowers 2) hand holding and 3) dancing. I mean, are we that simple?
This conversation pushed my roommate to ask me, "well, Katie, if he was your man, what would he be singing?"
Never one to shy away from an interesting and slightly silly hypothetical, here is my answer:
If he was my man, he would ---- offer me an honest, loving relationship based on equality; give me hugs even when I'm PMS-ing, eating a pint of ice cream on the couch and have a nice dot-to-dot of zits on my chin; let me have time with my friends but smile when I text him periodically throughout the night; love watching football with me; put away my clean laundry for me out of the blue one day because he knows I hate doing it; ask me about my day; want to meet my family and friends and join in on their crazy banter; dance when he wants to; laugh when he can and cry when he feels like it; compete against me in trivia and not judge me when I know nothing about our country's history prior to 1942; let me take care of him and most importantly, make me a mix tape*.
Flowers can be bought at a store anywhere, heck even the street vender sells them right by my apartment and sure, diamonds are shiny but a mix tape, now there is something from the heart. Think about it, he picks songs specifically that remind him of you and the relationship you share. He's put in a few hours to pick which ones are perfect, sprinkling in a few silly songs like "Make Love in This Club" by Usher or "Can't Get Enough of Your Love" by Barry White and conclude the tape with the song that will surly epitomize your relationship together. It's that simple and dare I say it, that cheap. Just get me something thoughtful, something that means a lot to you and I'll be happy. That's the secret, that's the key...not dancing, not flowers, not hand holding; just a mix tape.
*To modernize it a bit, a mixed tape can be replaced with a compact disc. :)
I was listening to Bruno Mars' song, "If I was Your Man" and felt a little funny about it because the chorus goes: "Well, I should've bought you flowers and held your hand. Should've given you all my hours, when I had the chance. Taken you to every party, because I know how you like to dance."
Now, I'm not one to argue with the wisdom of pop music now-a-days (especially since the 2012 hit, "Instagram that Hoe" came out) BUT I do believe women are expecting more from their significant others than 1) flowers 2) hand holding and 3) dancing. I mean, are we that simple?
This conversation pushed my roommate to ask me, "well, Katie, if he was your man, what would he be singing?"
Never one to shy away from an interesting and slightly silly hypothetical, here is my answer:
If he was my man, he would ---- offer me an honest, loving relationship based on equality; give me hugs even when I'm PMS-ing, eating a pint of ice cream on the couch and have a nice dot-to-dot of zits on my chin; let me have time with my friends but smile when I text him periodically throughout the night; love watching football with me; put away my clean laundry for me out of the blue one day because he knows I hate doing it; ask me about my day; want to meet my family and friends and join in on their crazy banter; dance when he wants to; laugh when he can and cry when he feels like it; compete against me in trivia and not judge me when I know nothing about our country's history prior to 1942; let me take care of him and most importantly, make me a mix tape*.
Flowers can be bought at a store anywhere, heck even the street vender sells them right by my apartment and sure, diamonds are shiny but a mix tape, now there is something from the heart. Think about it, he picks songs specifically that remind him of you and the relationship you share. He's put in a few hours to pick which ones are perfect, sprinkling in a few silly songs like "Make Love in This Club" by Usher or "Can't Get Enough of Your Love" by Barry White and conclude the tape with the song that will surly epitomize your relationship together. It's that simple and dare I say it, that cheap. Just get me something thoughtful, something that means a lot to you and I'll be happy. That's the secret, that's the key...not dancing, not flowers, not hand holding; just a mix tape.
*To modernize it a bit, a mixed tape can be replaced with a compact disc. :)
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Relationship Blessings
When visiting my sister, she mentioned that her 10 year high school reunion was coming up and it made me reflect on the seven years I've been out of high school. I thought about the relationships I still have, the ones I no longer have and the new ones that are just now forming.
As I reflected I thought about the people I've had the privilege of meeting on the east coast. I formed relationships with all sorts of people: young, old, neighbor, bus driver, roommate, community mate, Bills fans, bartender, teacher, councilor and plain ol' friend. Their stories and their love has formed me into the person I am today. But it definitely came with a trade off. For the three years I've been on the east coast, I've missed birthdays, weddings, taco Tuesdays, movie night, going away parties and babies being born with my friends on the west coast (and they laid the foundation for who I am).
At my hostess job, I strike up conversations once in a while with men going to watch "the game" and they ask where I'm from. When I tell them, they say, "wow, that's really far. Why are you still here?" I always come up with a cutsie response like, "well, this bar needs me" or something like that. In actuality, I feel like the luckiest woman alive...as my new assistant teacher would say, "I am blessed."
I have people who have touched my life spanning from Korea to California, from Maine to Texas and Detroit to Seattle. I am blessed and I wouldn't have it any other way. Yes, I am sad that I miss so many amazing things my friends in Washington are doing and the pictures I see or the hour-long phone chats we have make me want to pack up and move back but then I think to myself, "dang, once I move back, I'll have the same longing to be back in DC with my friends there."
My dad always says, "what if history is silly history" but for kicks, what if I had never moved to the east coast? I wouldn't have missed weddings, birthdays, bridal showers, baby showers or taco Tuesdays but think of all I would've missed out on: Cowboy Tito's dance moves, Ms. Angie's humor and friendship, Mr. T in Bridgeport who showed me the true meaning of social justice, watching a student get adopted!, meeting many amazing roommates, seeing major cities in the US, reconnecting with my Jersey family, representing the 'Hawks at bars on Sundays, going to Costa Rica, forming my Miriam's Kitchen family. I have been blessed. Is it possible to have too many blessings? It's overwhelming when you think about it; I mean really think about it. Think of the Christmas or Hannukah cards you get around the holidays...those people love you and were part of some fiber that helped make up you.
Too many blessings...taking a step back to reflect on my choice to move out here has left me feeling full. I feel like the relationships that chose me have been the greatest and most rewarding blessings I have.
As I reflected I thought about the people I've had the privilege of meeting on the east coast. I formed relationships with all sorts of people: young, old, neighbor, bus driver, roommate, community mate, Bills fans, bartender, teacher, councilor and plain ol' friend. Their stories and their love has formed me into the person I am today. But it definitely came with a trade off. For the three years I've been on the east coast, I've missed birthdays, weddings, taco Tuesdays, movie night, going away parties and babies being born with my friends on the west coast (and they laid the foundation for who I am).
At my hostess job, I strike up conversations once in a while with men going to watch "the game" and they ask where I'm from. When I tell them, they say, "wow, that's really far. Why are you still here?" I always come up with a cutsie response like, "well, this bar needs me" or something like that. In actuality, I feel like the luckiest woman alive...as my new assistant teacher would say, "I am blessed."
I have people who have touched my life spanning from Korea to California, from Maine to Texas and Detroit to Seattle. I am blessed and I wouldn't have it any other way. Yes, I am sad that I miss so many amazing things my friends in Washington are doing and the pictures I see or the hour-long phone chats we have make me want to pack up and move back but then I think to myself, "dang, once I move back, I'll have the same longing to be back in DC with my friends there."
My dad always says, "what if history is silly history" but for kicks, what if I had never moved to the east coast? I wouldn't have missed weddings, birthdays, bridal showers, baby showers or taco Tuesdays but think of all I would've missed out on: Cowboy Tito's dance moves, Ms. Angie's humor and friendship, Mr. T in Bridgeport who showed me the true meaning of social justice, watching a student get adopted!, meeting many amazing roommates, seeing major cities in the US, reconnecting with my Jersey family, representing the 'Hawks at bars on Sundays, going to Costa Rica, forming my Miriam's Kitchen family. I have been blessed. Is it possible to have too many blessings? It's overwhelming when you think about it; I mean really think about it. Think of the Christmas or Hannukah cards you get around the holidays...those people love you and were part of some fiber that helped make up you.
Too many blessings...taking a step back to reflect on my choice to move out here has left me feeling full. I feel like the relationships that chose me have been the greatest and most rewarding blessings I have.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Busin' It
Now, I know when people think of DC transportation they usually think about biking or metro-ing. Well, my friends, I tried biking and failed miserably...no need to try and comfort me, I have accepted the fact that I am neither a city biker nor a mountain biker (strictly a training wheel, suburban biker here). AND metro-ing is insanely expensive in DC. Therefore, I am a buser (a muggle as Colleen would say).
In my two-year long career as an avid bus-rider I have witnessed and experienced a plethora of interesting people and of course, as many young people do, I feel that entitles me to have an opinion on busing etiquette.
Things That Bother Me (and yes, I realize this makes me sounds a million years old):
- Youngins' playing their rap music crazy loud on the bus. Get headphones or don't listen. I heard the "n" word at least 12 times today in one young man's choice of music...I don't want to hear that and I'm sure the 70-year-old women next to me didn't want to either.
-People who talk on speaker phone on the bus. I mean, really? No one wants to hear the gossip about Tiffany hooking up with Angela's boyfriend on loudspeaker; just as much as I don't want to hear your wife telling you what you need to buy at the store. Turn off speakerphone.
-People who are so self-consumed, they don't move to the back of the bus so people don't have to have their noses in someone's armpit. No one likes that, both the owner of the nose and the arm-pit owner. As a short person, this happens to me all the time and it could be remedied if the one bo-zo blocking the way would just continue walking to the back of the bus.
-Youngins' who don't even offer their seat when an elderly person, disabled person or mother with children gets on the bus. OR people who are skinnier than I who intentionally sit in the middle of the two seats and don't scoot over when it begins to get crowded on the bus...you don't need two seats, dude, you weigh 100lbs. soaking wet; I know guys like to sprawl out their legs to let their "man parts" breathe or whatever but close your legs, stop being a jerk and share your seats. Same thing if you have your purse, ladies, it doesn't need a seat either...put it on your lap.
-People sitting in the aisle seat who don't get up when it's your stop. Instead, they just swing their legs over to the aisle and make you climb over them as you try to exit the bus. Come on, people, don't be rude and lazy, just get up and let me off...you don't want my butt in your face and I don't want to slip and land in your lap.
-People who are pigs on the bus. It says don't eat or drink, but heck, I do it. Just don't be a pig. I don't want to sit in your squished Cheeto stained seat after your done. AND (this really happened to Emily and I) do not defecate on the bus and hide it somewhere. From experience, once the bus driver finds it, they kick everyone off and the bus goes out of service...plus it's just nasty; not the kind of present we want to find.
Things I Like About the Bus:
-Talking to strangers. When people are friendly and actually strike up conversation, it's awesome. Makes my bus riding experience 10 times better and we both learn a lot that way. I learned about public pools, directions, grocery stores and thrift shops that were hidden in DC. So start talking, you never know what you might discover.
-The bus drivers can be really awesome. I had one that I saw every morning when I went to school on the 7:17am bus and he learned my name and said "good morning" to me each day. In the rare occasion I took an earlier or later bus, he'd notice too. Such a sweet man.
-It's cheaper than the metro, more direct than the metro and takes you through the city whereas the metro goes underground so you don't get to see any of the city.
-Sometimes has air conditioning and heat. 'Nuf said.
I just wanted to shed some light on the busing adventures in DC. I love to bus, but sometimes, it can be frustrating when people aren't considerate of others.
In my two-year long career as an avid bus-rider I have witnessed and experienced a plethora of interesting people and of course, as many young people do, I feel that entitles me to have an opinion on busing etiquette.
Things That Bother Me (and yes, I realize this makes me sounds a million years old):
- Youngins' playing their rap music crazy loud on the bus. Get headphones or don't listen. I heard the "n" word at least 12 times today in one young man's choice of music...I don't want to hear that and I'm sure the 70-year-old women next to me didn't want to either.
-People who talk on speaker phone on the bus. I mean, really? No one wants to hear the gossip about Tiffany hooking up with Angela's boyfriend on loudspeaker; just as much as I don't want to hear your wife telling you what you need to buy at the store. Turn off speakerphone.
-People who are so self-consumed, they don't move to the back of the bus so people don't have to have their noses in someone's armpit. No one likes that, both the owner of the nose and the arm-pit owner. As a short person, this happens to me all the time and it could be remedied if the one bo-zo blocking the way would just continue walking to the back of the bus.
-Youngins' who don't even offer their seat when an elderly person, disabled person or mother with children gets on the bus. OR people who are skinnier than I who intentionally sit in the middle of the two seats and don't scoot over when it begins to get crowded on the bus...you don't need two seats, dude, you weigh 100lbs. soaking wet; I know guys like to sprawl out their legs to let their "man parts" breathe or whatever but close your legs, stop being a jerk and share your seats. Same thing if you have your purse, ladies, it doesn't need a seat either...put it on your lap.
-People sitting in the aisle seat who don't get up when it's your stop. Instead, they just swing their legs over to the aisle and make you climb over them as you try to exit the bus. Come on, people, don't be rude and lazy, just get up and let me off...you don't want my butt in your face and I don't want to slip and land in your lap.
-People who are pigs on the bus. It says don't eat or drink, but heck, I do it. Just don't be a pig. I don't want to sit in your squished Cheeto stained seat after your done. AND (this really happened to Emily and I) do not defecate on the bus and hide it somewhere. From experience, once the bus driver finds it, they kick everyone off and the bus goes out of service...plus it's just nasty; not the kind of present we want to find.
Things I Like About the Bus:
-Talking to strangers. When people are friendly and actually strike up conversation, it's awesome. Makes my bus riding experience 10 times better and we both learn a lot that way. I learned about public pools, directions, grocery stores and thrift shops that were hidden in DC. So start talking, you never know what you might discover.
-The bus drivers can be really awesome. I had one that I saw every morning when I went to school on the 7:17am bus and he learned my name and said "good morning" to me each day. In the rare occasion I took an earlier or later bus, he'd notice too. Such a sweet man.
-It's cheaper than the metro, more direct than the metro and takes you through the city whereas the metro goes underground so you don't get to see any of the city.
-Sometimes has air conditioning and heat. 'Nuf said.
I just wanted to shed some light on the busing adventures in DC. I love to bus, but sometimes, it can be frustrating when people aren't considerate of others.
Friday, July 19, 2013
Heavy Hearted Question
Tonight I am writing with a heavy heart. I don't want my blog to be the birthplace of controversy or to stir up negative emotions but I can't get this out of my head (nor will the media let me).
Picture this:
A guy, in a navy blue hoodie his Grandma bought him for his birthday two weeks ago, walks to a convenient store to get some Starbursts for his little sister...she had been bugging him all week about those stupid Starbursts. After he pays, he thanks the cashier and walks home. He even holds the door open for another customer as she enters. As he's heading home, it's a little chilly, so he puts on his hood. After a little bit, he hears a car creeping behind him. Sure he's just hallucinating or paranoid, he keeps walking...but then he continues to hear it. He clears his blond locks out of his sight and looks over his shoulder only to see a car stopped with its lights on. As strange as it is, it's a sleepy town so he doesn't think much of it and keeps walking. He's the captain of the soccer team for goodness sakes, he can handle this, but he still has a funny feeling about the car so he calls his girlfriend and says, "hey, I think someone is following me." She tells him to run. So he begins to sprint and the car speeds up. He looks over his shoulder again, hair flopping in his face, to see a man getting out of his car, charging him. He turns around to face the man, because he can't run forever and the man starts to punch him. They exchange blows until the man pulls out his gun and the final blow is given. The captain of the soccer team is dead.
You probably knew what I was alluding to once you reached the part about Starbursts...
Trayvon Martin.
Now, before I ruffle any feathers, I have to say... I am against ANY violence; to animals to adults to children to trees; in riots, in justifiable homicide, in war and in "stand your ground" cases. Murder is murder and killing is killing; even if it is within the law to do so. Anyone who kills should go to jail, in my opinion. But that's not what I'm writing about tonight.
In this scenario, I depicted the Starburst wielding boy as a white kid. If I had a dime for every time I heard someone say, "this wasn't about race" when talking about the Trayvon Martin case, I would be a wealthy, wealthy lady. It is about race; it's always about race. Our country has race deeply ingrained into everything it thinks, says or does. Humor me for a second...
I will never know what it feels like to have a woman clutch her purse and move away from me when I stand next to her on the bus. I will never know what it feels like to hear car doors lock as I pass by on the sidewalk. I will never know what it feels like to be followed in a store by a clerk. I will never know what it feels like to have someone cross the street when they see me up ahead. These are realities for black men. I had a friend in Bridgeport who told me very casually as if it was nothing, that these above listed things happened to him daily and had been happening to him since he was 10. SINCE HE WAS 10! Race is always there and it was there the night Trayvon was killed. This is about race.
Tell me, did you feel sorry for the captain of soccer team that I just depicted? It's OK if you did, heck, I did. I anticipate that if it was a white kid instead of a black kid who was killed, this is the kind of story we would've gotten from the media. Not one depicting him as a "thug" or "fighter" or splitting hairs over whether he was a "boy" or a "man". It would've been a different story and it would've had a different outcome. Dare I say, I even believe this above mentioned story would've remained fiction because Zimmerman wouldn't have followed a white boy home in the first place?
Now, I;m left with a heavy heart because I hate violence, a family lost their son and because racism is still alive today, deep down (we all scurry to lock our car doors from time to time). But also because I am white. I have dated black men, taught black children, comforted and found housing for black adults and laughed and danced with black senior citizens but I am still white. No matter how hard I want to push away or ignore the underlying race divide, it's there. Our country was founded on racial divides and our justice system is insanely broken. For example, "people of color make up about 30 percent of the United States’ population, they account for 60 percent of those imprisoned" and "one in three black men will go to prison in their lifetime" (http://www.americanprogress.org/issues/race/news/2012/03/13/11351/the-top-10-most-startling-facts-about-people-of-color-and-criminal-justice-in-the-united-states/). These are facts. It's about race.
So I'm left asking myself, in this tragedy and the many that are happening even as I type, what can I do?
(What sparked this post was this article about Barack Obama, take a read if you have a moment: http://nbcpolitics.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/07/19/19563211-obama-trayvon-martin-could-have-been-me-35-years-ago?lite . Per usual, he says it better than I.)
Picture this:
A guy, in a navy blue hoodie his Grandma bought him for his birthday two weeks ago, walks to a convenient store to get some Starbursts for his little sister...she had been bugging him all week about those stupid Starbursts. After he pays, he thanks the cashier and walks home. He even holds the door open for another customer as she enters. As he's heading home, it's a little chilly, so he puts on his hood. After a little bit, he hears a car creeping behind him. Sure he's just hallucinating or paranoid, he keeps walking...but then he continues to hear it. He clears his blond locks out of his sight and looks over his shoulder only to see a car stopped with its lights on. As strange as it is, it's a sleepy town so he doesn't think much of it and keeps walking. He's the captain of the soccer team for goodness sakes, he can handle this, but he still has a funny feeling about the car so he calls his girlfriend and says, "hey, I think someone is following me." She tells him to run. So he begins to sprint and the car speeds up. He looks over his shoulder again, hair flopping in his face, to see a man getting out of his car, charging him. He turns around to face the man, because he can't run forever and the man starts to punch him. They exchange blows until the man pulls out his gun and the final blow is given. The captain of the soccer team is dead.
You probably knew what I was alluding to once you reached the part about Starbursts...
Trayvon Martin.
Now, before I ruffle any feathers, I have to say... I am against ANY violence; to animals to adults to children to trees; in riots, in justifiable homicide, in war and in "stand your ground" cases. Murder is murder and killing is killing; even if it is within the law to do so. Anyone who kills should go to jail, in my opinion. But that's not what I'm writing about tonight.
In this scenario, I depicted the Starburst wielding boy as a white kid. If I had a dime for every time I heard someone say, "this wasn't about race" when talking about the Trayvon Martin case, I would be a wealthy, wealthy lady. It is about race; it's always about race. Our country has race deeply ingrained into everything it thinks, says or does. Humor me for a second...
I will never know what it feels like to have a woman clutch her purse and move away from me when I stand next to her on the bus. I will never know what it feels like to hear car doors lock as I pass by on the sidewalk. I will never know what it feels like to be followed in a store by a clerk. I will never know what it feels like to have someone cross the street when they see me up ahead. These are realities for black men. I had a friend in Bridgeport who told me very casually as if it was nothing, that these above listed things happened to him daily and had been happening to him since he was 10. SINCE HE WAS 10! Race is always there and it was there the night Trayvon was killed. This is about race.
Tell me, did you feel sorry for the captain of soccer team that I just depicted? It's OK if you did, heck, I did. I anticipate that if it was a white kid instead of a black kid who was killed, this is the kind of story we would've gotten from the media. Not one depicting him as a "thug" or "fighter" or splitting hairs over whether he was a "boy" or a "man". It would've been a different story and it would've had a different outcome. Dare I say, I even believe this above mentioned story would've remained fiction because Zimmerman wouldn't have followed a white boy home in the first place?
Now, I;m left with a heavy heart because I hate violence, a family lost their son and because racism is still alive today, deep down (we all scurry to lock our car doors from time to time). But also because I am white. I have dated black men, taught black children, comforted and found housing for black adults and laughed and danced with black senior citizens but I am still white. No matter how hard I want to push away or ignore the underlying race divide, it's there. Our country was founded on racial divides and our justice system is insanely broken. For example, "people of color make up about 30 percent of the United States’ population, they account for 60 percent of those imprisoned" and "one in three black men will go to prison in their lifetime" (http://www.americanprogress.org/issues/race/news/2012/03/13/11351/the-top-10-most-startling-facts-about-people-of-color-and-criminal-justice-in-the-united-states/). These are facts. It's about race.
So I'm left asking myself, in this tragedy and the many that are happening even as I type, what can I do?
(What sparked this post was this article about Barack Obama, take a read if you have a moment: http://nbcpolitics.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/07/19/19563211-obama-trayvon-martin-could-have-been-me-35-years-ago?lite . Per usual, he says it better than I.)
Friday, July 12, 2013
You Asked for It...Part 1
Alright, my friends, I have had many people ask me to share my thoughts
on this certain subject and tonight is the night I appease those
people...I am going to change up the pace and write a reflective piece
on my dating escapades from the past six months. It only seems fair that
after six months of being set up and from my personal online dating, I
reflect on the knowledge I have gained throughout the process.
What I have Learned About Men:
PRE-DATE DO NOT SAY: So I'd say since I started my dating journey back in January, I have dated maybe, ten men...as in gone on dates with ten men. BUT there have been a handful (like five) that didn't even get a date because of pre-date conversations. Here is what they did:
-They...were too aggressive. Some wanted my number within two hours of messaging back and forth online...slow your roll and calm down...we got all the time in the world.
-They...wanted inappropriate pictures of me on their phones...OK, I'm a Kindergarten teacher, are you kidding me with that?
-They...made crazy plans for dates four months away before we'd even met...whoa there, buck-o, let's get date number one out of the way first.
-Mainly they were too aggressive in all aspects of the word...wanted too much too soon.
WHERE NOT TO TAKE ME: Alright, so I had some pretty bad dates which actually is what made my friends push me to write this segment of my blog...the worst date was probably the walk around the monuments...IN JANUARY! It was freezing, he doddled and wanted to stop and look at everything so when it was all said and done, we walked for five hours around the tidal basin...then we went to dinner. A 9-HOUR date?!?!?!?!?! Who does that? I was exhausted and didn't even want to look at him anymore after that...and that was our first date. Another guy (after one date) wanted to take me to a Kathi Griffin show in Baltimore a month out...and when I told him I didn't like Kathi Griffin he told me, "well, I'd go to something you didn't like to support you." We didn't even know that much about each other for him to be making me feel guilty like that! Ladies, don't feel guilty, stick to your guns.
WHAT NOT TO SAY/DO: My favorite category...what not to say. Alright, you'd think this stuff was made up, but I need to say this, everything I am about to tell you is 100% true...it truly happened to me. Alright, one man, after one date, found out where I taught at (not by me) and sent me smiley face cookies on Valentine's Day. Then, the next time I saw him, he told me he loved me. We have a name for this: it's the thirsty man...the man who is so desperate for love, he is practically humping your leg from the moment you introduce yourself. This same fellow also had invisoline and would not stop talking about it...I mean, apologizing, commenting, asking me if I was OK with it. If you have an insecurity, please don't obsess over it; if I like you, I won't care!
Next guy, the overly protective guy: the one who pees on your leg to claim you as his without learning your last name...oh yes...He's a real keeper. I had one man become extremely jealous every time I told him I was hanging out with my roommate. In fact, when I took him to a party at my friend's house he questioned me about my whereabouts when I had gone to use the bathroom. Ladies, these are insecure men. They are over protective, territorial and controlling. Skip over clingy and move onto the next one.
Then, comes the grown man-child. Now, these guys aren't the worst...the previously explained two definitely take the cake; BUT they are difficult none the less. The grown man-child is one that is extremely immature; now don't get me wrong, I like a good fart joke but if the man you are dating talks more about the virtual world than he does the real world, he may need to grow up a little. This can also spill over into the still-in-college-frat-guy and the I-still-live-with-my-parents-at-the-age-of-30 categories but all of them are the same at their core...they need to grow up and be independent, working adults. You are not someone's mom and from my experience, you end up being one to them when you take them on.
The above mentioned men were all nice guys (all except one) so I don't want to rag on them too harshly...they just didn't know what they were doing...but who really does, anyway? BUT all of them shared this one thing in common, they all said to me in one form or another "I just don't understand why I'm still single". Well, boys, if you're clingy, insecure, obsessive, thirsty or immature, not many women are attracted to that. Just chill out, be you, figure out what kind of a partner you need to best compliment who you are and relax (none of us know what we are doing, but fake it until you make it).
You Asked For It...Part 2
What I have Learned About Myself:
APPAREL: Ladies, when going on a first date, things to consider: your outfit; does it represent me well? Wearing a tube top and go go boots would turn heads, but not represent my personality very well...I'm afraid it might set my date up for false expectations for the future so what I do is: wear my best "butt jeans" (you know what these are), my Toms (because they say, hey look, I'm fun and I like to give back), a nicer/fancier tank top (this, I usually borrow from my roommate and it doesn't show too much skin, but makes me look like I wasn't trying too hard) and a cardigan (usually my blue one to bring out my eyes). Now, choosing hair up, hair down, what have you; I usually go with hair down...men like it when your hair is down...I think it goes back to primal stuff.Go easy on the make-up...you don't want to look like Bo-Zo the clown and if you're like me, pack your deodorant in your purse...because you're going to sweat...a lot.
DATE CHOICE: Alright, so I HATE dinner dates. I think they are a waste of time and money. I'd much rather go do something that shows off one of our personalities...like cooking together or visiting a bar or seeing a museum...then you don't have a set in stone time frame (if the date is going poorly) and you don't have to stare at each other eating for an hour. I like to be creative with dates...I like to be in a neutral zone, location wise, that way you both are out of your comfort zone. AND please, make sure you meet there...do NOT have him pick you up if you've never met him before; you start to head into the creepy zone if you do that...be safe, ladies.
WHAT NOT TO SAY: Now, the big no-nos are always: politics, ex-boyfriends and your "intimate" details. BUT I want to add to the list: how much money you make (no one is impressed, so stop bragging), how many people you've killed or want to kill, how many hours of video games you played today, telling your date you love them, what your wedding dress is going to look like and lastly, how many dates you turned down to be on this one.All of these topics have been brought up in various ways throughout my six month voyage and I'm still single so clearly these topics should be avoided.
WHAT TO SAY: It's important to say, I always give my date a hug when I see him...I think it says, "hey, I'm friendly and welcoming without even knowing you." But do whatever you feel comfortable with. Then, we go on with the date. DO talk about your work in brief detail. DO share where you dreams and goals lie. DO talk about where you're from and your family. DO share stories...people remember stories better than they do facts...I could care less what your favorite color is on our first date. DO talk about your likes and dislikes...TV shows, movies, places you've visited (without boasting), activities, book, etc. DO make sure you ask follow up questions to your date...don't let the conversation flop around like a fish out of water, you're in control, you're 25 and talk to people every day...this dude is no different. DO be honest...if you don't like scary movies, say so; if you hate spicy food, say so...just because he likes it doesn't mean you have to. In addition to honesty, after you part ways, be honest with yourself about whether you want to see him again...I usually always give guys a second date because I understand nerves get the best of people on the first date BUT if you KNOW you're not feeling it because he says somethings like, "I keep all my dead pets in a mason jar" then respectfully tell him no thanks and move on.
Finally, my dad gave me the best advice: Stop looking for a boyfriend or a husband. Find a friend...look for a friend because aren't you interested in being with your best friend forever?
Peace and Good Luck!
APPAREL: Ladies, when going on a first date, things to consider: your outfit; does it represent me well? Wearing a tube top and go go boots would turn heads, but not represent my personality very well...I'm afraid it might set my date up for false expectations for the future so what I do is: wear my best "butt jeans" (you know what these are), my Toms (because they say, hey look, I'm fun and I like to give back), a nicer/fancier tank top (this, I usually borrow from my roommate and it doesn't show too much skin, but makes me look like I wasn't trying too hard) and a cardigan (usually my blue one to bring out my eyes). Now, choosing hair up, hair down, what have you; I usually go with hair down...men like it when your hair is down...I think it goes back to primal stuff.Go easy on the make-up...you don't want to look like Bo-Zo the clown and if you're like me, pack your deodorant in your purse...because you're going to sweat...a lot.
DATE CHOICE: Alright, so I HATE dinner dates. I think they are a waste of time and money. I'd much rather go do something that shows off one of our personalities...like cooking together or visiting a bar or seeing a museum...then you don't have a set in stone time frame (if the date is going poorly) and you don't have to stare at each other eating for an hour. I like to be creative with dates...I like to be in a neutral zone, location wise, that way you both are out of your comfort zone. AND please, make sure you meet there...do NOT have him pick you up if you've never met him before; you start to head into the creepy zone if you do that...be safe, ladies.
WHAT NOT TO SAY: Now, the big no-nos are always: politics, ex-boyfriends and your "intimate" details. BUT I want to add to the list: how much money you make (no one is impressed, so stop bragging), how many people you've killed or want to kill, how many hours of video games you played today, telling your date you love them, what your wedding dress is going to look like and lastly, how many dates you turned down to be on this one.All of these topics have been brought up in various ways throughout my six month voyage and I'm still single so clearly these topics should be avoided.
WHAT TO SAY: It's important to say, I always give my date a hug when I see him...I think it says, "hey, I'm friendly and welcoming without even knowing you." But do whatever you feel comfortable with. Then, we go on with the date. DO talk about your work in brief detail. DO share where you dreams and goals lie. DO talk about where you're from and your family. DO share stories...people remember stories better than they do facts...I could care less what your favorite color is on our first date. DO talk about your likes and dislikes...TV shows, movies, places you've visited (without boasting), activities, book, etc. DO make sure you ask follow up questions to your date...don't let the conversation flop around like a fish out of water, you're in control, you're 25 and talk to people every day...this dude is no different. DO be honest...if you don't like scary movies, say so; if you hate spicy food, say so...just because he likes it doesn't mean you have to. In addition to honesty, after you part ways, be honest with yourself about whether you want to see him again...I usually always give guys a second date because I understand nerves get the best of people on the first date BUT if you KNOW you're not feeling it because he says somethings like, "I keep all my dead pets in a mason jar" then respectfully tell him no thanks and move on.
Finally, my dad gave me the best advice: Stop looking for a boyfriend or a husband. Find a friend...look for a friend because aren't you interested in being with your best friend forever?
Peace and Good Luck!
Monday, June 3, 2013
End of the School Year Reflections
The final word has been typed, the last standard has been entered and our end of the year party has been planned. I have 11 school days left with them. My co-teacher told me at the beginning of the year not to get attached but, alas, I wouldn't be Katie Conway if I didn't emotionally over invest in my kids. The thing is, when I reflect on who they are and who they have made me become, I think of the true meaning of friendship.
Fr. Gregg Boyle always talks about kinship and the importance of kinship among communities. Well, my students have given me that; they have given me the most beautiful form of friendly kinship. The values and ways they approach loving their friends is beautiful and reminds me of how I should approach my adult friendships.
“Kinship– not serving the other, but being one with the other. Jesus was not “a man for others”; he was one with them. There is a world of difference in that.”- Fr. Gregg Boyle
Beauty: They have taught me what true beauty is. When "playing with" my hair, they love to put it in front of my face. In their opinion, it makes me look "more beautiful". I try not to take offensive by their insinuation, but they laugh and say, "now Ms. Katie, you look beautiful. You should always wear your hair this way." When I laugh and say, "but you can't see my face, you're covering up my beauty!" They giggle and say, "no, we can still see your smile!" My smile, their smile. I mean, that's truly the most beautiful feature on anyone. Whether you are toothless, have bad breath or the most beautiful pearly whites int he world, a smile warms your heart and makes others want to know what you're smiling about. It spreads beauty as it beams and my kids helped teach me that.
Sharing is Caring: My students have showed me how to love through sharing; sharing toys, germs, sticky hugs, books, laughs or support. Their ability to give of themselves without the thought of getting in return amazes me. One of my favorite "sharing moments" came when one student was sad. He was upset about something and neither my co-teacher nor I could get to him because we were busy. Then, one of the most behaviorally challenging children I ever met, went over to him and without saying anything, started rubbing his back and held his hand. When I looked up to check on the crying child, the usually "jerky one" stunned me. He wasn't looking for attention (for once) and wasn't seeking the crying child's toy or anything, he simply wanted to be a good friend.
Forgive and Forget: I tell you what, if I had a dollar for every time a student came up to me and said, "so and so did this to me" and then had to have a conversation with the two feuding kids about kind words and touches; I could seriously retire. But the funny thing is, at the end of each of these conversations, I always make them apologize and hug it out. Once they do that, all is right in the world and they are besties again. It's crazy! I mean someone could say, "you're the ugliest, meanest, stupidest person ever" and as long as they get an apology and a hug, the two are friends again. There are friendships that crumble and families that divide over pride and the inability to apologize. These kids have shown me the importance of accepting people for who they are and forgetting about their past failings.
My kids make me smile. They fill my heart with joy and make my life better. People often wonder, "how do you do it? Aren't they annoying and sticky and make messes?" I can't imagine doing anything else because of how much I get to learn and be reminded of through their actions and perspective on life.
Fr. Gregg Boyle always talks about kinship and the importance of kinship among communities. Well, my students have given me that; they have given me the most beautiful form of friendly kinship. The values and ways they approach loving their friends is beautiful and reminds me of how I should approach my adult friendships.
“Kinship– not serving the other, but being one with the other. Jesus was not “a man for others”; he was one with them. There is a world of difference in that.”- Fr. Gregg Boyle
Beauty: They have taught me what true beauty is. When "playing with" my hair, they love to put it in front of my face. In their opinion, it makes me look "more beautiful". I try not to take offensive by their insinuation, but they laugh and say, "now Ms. Katie, you look beautiful. You should always wear your hair this way." When I laugh and say, "but you can't see my face, you're covering up my beauty!" They giggle and say, "no, we can still see your smile!" My smile, their smile. I mean, that's truly the most beautiful feature on anyone. Whether you are toothless, have bad breath or the most beautiful pearly whites int he world, a smile warms your heart and makes others want to know what you're smiling about. It spreads beauty as it beams and my kids helped teach me that.
Sharing is Caring: My students have showed me how to love through sharing; sharing toys, germs, sticky hugs, books, laughs or support. Their ability to give of themselves without the thought of getting in return amazes me. One of my favorite "sharing moments" came when one student was sad. He was upset about something and neither my co-teacher nor I could get to him because we were busy. Then, one of the most behaviorally challenging children I ever met, went over to him and without saying anything, started rubbing his back and held his hand. When I looked up to check on the crying child, the usually "jerky one" stunned me. He wasn't looking for attention (for once) and wasn't seeking the crying child's toy or anything, he simply wanted to be a good friend.
Forgive and Forget: I tell you what, if I had a dollar for every time a student came up to me and said, "so and so did this to me" and then had to have a conversation with the two feuding kids about kind words and touches; I could seriously retire. But the funny thing is, at the end of each of these conversations, I always make them apologize and hug it out. Once they do that, all is right in the world and they are besties again. It's crazy! I mean someone could say, "you're the ugliest, meanest, stupidest person ever" and as long as they get an apology and a hug, the two are friends again. There are friendships that crumble and families that divide over pride and the inability to apologize. These kids have shown me the importance of accepting people for who they are and forgetting about their past failings.
My kids make me smile. They fill my heart with joy and make my life better. People often wonder, "how do you do it? Aren't they annoying and sticky and make messes?" I can't imagine doing anything else because of how much I get to learn and be reminded of through their actions and perspective on life.
“I was suddenly
overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were
mine and I theirs.” -Fr. Gregg Boyle
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Appreciating Teachers
This week was Teacher Appreciation week and I didn't really understand what that meant until yesterday.
Tuesday, the parents of our students brought us desserts and cards, Wednesday, we had lunch provided to us from the admin. staff, Thursday was picture day and Friday was breakfast and all other types of yum yums for all teachers throughout the entire day. It was wonderful and it made me definitely feel appreciated.
On Wednesday, one of my little ones, Nala*, was extra hyperactive. Now, Nala is the youngest child in my class, she is a social butterfly, she is always jumping up from her seat, calling out and butting into disciplinary things (she'll "back me up" when I'm disciplining a student). She has intense ADD and when she's not getting an answer correct or is being disciplined, she pouts; she's a hard core pouter. I've been trying to break her of the pouting all year. It's been a long and challenging battle; and Wednesday was a rough pouting, calling out, hyperactive day for Nala.
So I tried a different angle. I pulled her out of class, had her sit in a chair and I squatted down to her level and said, "Listen, Nala, we need to work on something. You know what we need to work on?" (cue pouting as she shakes her head no). "Well, we need to work on not calling out. Our brains can't grow if we're calling out, can they?" (still pouting, she doesn't respond - insert different angle here).
"You're not in trouble, Nala, I just want to talk...you wanna know a secret that Mr. McMahon doesn't even know about?" (she perks up). "Well, I was just like you when I was 4. I called out, I would get so excited about talking to my friends and yelling out the answer. I was just like you. I wanted to talk to everyone." (she smiles, "Ms. Katie, you were? Are we like twins?")
I laughed but explained, "Nala, I know it's hard. It's really hard, but that's why I want to help you, OK? We'll help remind each other not to call out, OK?" (She jumped down from the chair, gave me a huge hug and yelled, "Thank you, Ms. Katie!")
I'm not sure if she got it, but in that moment, I did. 20 years later, I get it. Thank you, Mrs. Macher, Mrs. Derryberry, Ms. Neleigh, Ms. Wolf, Mr. Ferris and Mrs. Farr for being so incredibly patient with my ADD self. Thank you for exhausting every option and trying every possible strategy to get me to stay in my seat, stop calling out and having side conversations. I get it now. I know you were probably frustrated with me, I wasn't always your favorite student either, for that matter, and I'm sure you just wished I could park it and shut up sometimes; but thank you. You never showed it. You never made me feel isolated or like a burden. I am a a better teacher and person because of the patience you showed to me. I am able to help Nala because of you.
I was thinking about how students usually go back and talk to their teachers after they've graduated from high school. Ya know, to check in, catch up and thank them. Well, that doesn't really happen for Elementary teachers. I mean, I've never gone back to see any of my Elementary teachers; none of the amazing people listed above who essentially navigated my social skills and behavior. So in honor of teacher appreciation week, I want to thank them and even though I can't go back tomorrow to thank you in person, thank you for your patience and kindness with me. You do a lot and work really hard and I appreciate all your hard work and investment in me.
*Name has been changed
Tuesday, the parents of our students brought us desserts and cards, Wednesday, we had lunch provided to us from the admin. staff, Thursday was picture day and Friday was breakfast and all other types of yum yums for all teachers throughout the entire day. It was wonderful and it made me definitely feel appreciated.
On Wednesday, one of my little ones, Nala*, was extra hyperactive. Now, Nala is the youngest child in my class, she is a social butterfly, she is always jumping up from her seat, calling out and butting into disciplinary things (she'll "back me up" when I'm disciplining a student). She has intense ADD and when she's not getting an answer correct or is being disciplined, she pouts; she's a hard core pouter. I've been trying to break her of the pouting all year. It's been a long and challenging battle; and Wednesday was a rough pouting, calling out, hyperactive day for Nala.
So I tried a different angle. I pulled her out of class, had her sit in a chair and I squatted down to her level and said, "Listen, Nala, we need to work on something. You know what we need to work on?" (cue pouting as she shakes her head no). "Well, we need to work on not calling out. Our brains can't grow if we're calling out, can they?" (still pouting, she doesn't respond - insert different angle here).
"You're not in trouble, Nala, I just want to talk...you wanna know a secret that Mr. McMahon doesn't even know about?" (she perks up). "Well, I was just like you when I was 4. I called out, I would get so excited about talking to my friends and yelling out the answer. I was just like you. I wanted to talk to everyone." (she smiles, "Ms. Katie, you were? Are we like twins?")
I laughed but explained, "Nala, I know it's hard. It's really hard, but that's why I want to help you, OK? We'll help remind each other not to call out, OK?" (She jumped down from the chair, gave me a huge hug and yelled, "Thank you, Ms. Katie!")
I'm not sure if she got it, but in that moment, I did. 20 years later, I get it. Thank you, Mrs. Macher, Mrs. Derryberry, Ms. Neleigh, Ms. Wolf, Mr. Ferris and Mrs. Farr for being so incredibly patient with my ADD self. Thank you for exhausting every option and trying every possible strategy to get me to stay in my seat, stop calling out and having side conversations. I get it now. I know you were probably frustrated with me, I wasn't always your favorite student either, for that matter, and I'm sure you just wished I could park it and shut up sometimes; but thank you. You never showed it. You never made me feel isolated or like a burden. I am a a better teacher and person because of the patience you showed to me. I am able to help Nala because of you.
I was thinking about how students usually go back and talk to their teachers after they've graduated from high school. Ya know, to check in, catch up and thank them. Well, that doesn't really happen for Elementary teachers. I mean, I've never gone back to see any of my Elementary teachers; none of the amazing people listed above who essentially navigated my social skills and behavior. So in honor of teacher appreciation week, I want to thank them and even though I can't go back tomorrow to thank you in person, thank you for your patience and kindness with me. You do a lot and work really hard and I appreciate all your hard work and investment in me.
*Name has been changed
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Fishers of Love
Today's gospel was John 21: 1-19 in which Jesus comes to His disciples after he had been raised from the dead and they are all fishing. Their nets are empty and they are basically stinking at the whole fishing gig. Jesus tells them to throw their nets off the other side of the boat and low and behold, they catch a lot of fish. Then, they look on the shore and there's Jesus, just chillin' on the beach with some fish cooking over the fire. The disciples go and join Him and Jesus tells them to tend to His sheep, to watch His flock.
I am reminded of Matthew 4:19 - " He said to them, Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men" during this time because when Jesus first gathers His posse, He does so in Matthew 4:19 when they're fishing. Now, in the end, He meets them once again, fishing. And the message He has to send is about the same, take care of my people, evangelize, spread the good word, but most of all, tend to them, love them.
I clearly cannot fish and I certainly am not the best speaker for the Catholic Church but I can talk about what I do know, what each of us in one way or another, knows: love.
Evangelizing scares me and I don't like it. I feel like it's a heavily weighted word and I just associate negative feelings toward it so when I read these passages, I want to put my own spin on it by thinking, what can I do as a fisherlady? What net could I use? How could I spread more of God's great message (without an agenda) of love, peace, respect, kindness and compassion?
Tackling Jesus' messages can be cumbersome at times because I struggle to break it down into something more attainable for me; something more within my abilities. But today, I think I might've figured out a net I could use. Instead of fishing for people, I want to fish for love. I want to pull the love out of people and expose it for all of its confusing yet wonderful, beauty. In the simplest of ways, do we tell those around us that we love them? Do we tell our friends, family, co-workers, boyfriends/girlfriends why we love them? That's a good start...that's merely casting a net of love and hoping to scoop up some warm fuzzies while doing it.
It's important to take it another step further too, though. We can't just be in the business of fishing for love for ourselves. What good is it if it's not shared? Here's where I really want to stretch my fishing license, I want to point out the love others show each other. For example, stopping one of my students at lunch and asking him/her why they love another student in our class. Or thanking strangers for holding the door for me. Or striking up a conversation with someone who looks lonely or frustrated or tired. Being friendly, being kind, being compassionate, being not just the fisherlady, but also the net of love being thrown out for the world to get caught up in.
Wouldn't it be a beautiful world if everyone was wrapped up in that same net of love and we all strove to be fishers of love instead of pessimism, selfishness, greed or negativity? I pray for that world for my students and for you.
I am reminded of Matthew 4:19 - " He said to them, Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men" during this time because when Jesus first gathers His posse, He does so in Matthew 4:19 when they're fishing. Now, in the end, He meets them once again, fishing. And the message He has to send is about the same, take care of my people, evangelize, spread the good word, but most of all, tend to them, love them.
I clearly cannot fish and I certainly am not the best speaker for the Catholic Church but I can talk about what I do know, what each of us in one way or another, knows: love.
Evangelizing scares me and I don't like it. I feel like it's a heavily weighted word and I just associate negative feelings toward it so when I read these passages, I want to put my own spin on it by thinking, what can I do as a fisherlady? What net could I use? How could I spread more of God's great message (without an agenda) of love, peace, respect, kindness and compassion?
Tackling Jesus' messages can be cumbersome at times because I struggle to break it down into something more attainable for me; something more within my abilities. But today, I think I might've figured out a net I could use. Instead of fishing for people, I want to fish for love. I want to pull the love out of people and expose it for all of its confusing yet wonderful, beauty. In the simplest of ways, do we tell those around us that we love them? Do we tell our friends, family, co-workers, boyfriends/girlfriends why we love them? That's a good start...that's merely casting a net of love and hoping to scoop up some warm fuzzies while doing it.
It's important to take it another step further too, though. We can't just be in the business of fishing for love for ourselves. What good is it if it's not shared? Here's where I really want to stretch my fishing license, I want to point out the love others show each other. For example, stopping one of my students at lunch and asking him/her why they love another student in our class. Or thanking strangers for holding the door for me. Or striking up a conversation with someone who looks lonely or frustrated or tired. Being friendly, being kind, being compassionate, being not just the fisherlady, but also the net of love being thrown out for the world to get caught up in.
Wouldn't it be a beautiful world if everyone was wrapped up in that same net of love and we all strove to be fishers of love instead of pessimism, selfishness, greed or negativity? I pray for that world for my students and for you.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Kinship
Spring break (or as my co-teacher likes to call it, SB13) ended last night. After my trip to Detroit, I didn't really think anything could top my list of awesome experiences, until Sunday night.
I went to Mass at 5:30pm at the more "well to do" church in DC. Only reason I was there was to witness an amazing man speak about his experiences with faith and service. Friends, I had the privilege of meeting and listening to, Fr. Greg Boyle.
If the name doesn't sound familiar that's fine, if it slightly rings a bell, even better. Let me help you. Fr. Greg Boyle founded Homeboy industries in a rough part of LA. 27 years ago he became distraught with the reality that he was burying man after man, homie after homie, because of gang violence and he decided to do something about it. With his calm poise, perfectly timed humor and immense love, he wrote the book, Tattoos on the Heart. I read it last year and fell in love. No other book will ever compare and I highly recommend anyone and everyone to read it.
Fr. G (as the homies call him) presided over Mass and then at 7:30pm hosted a talk about faith and service. The overarching theme being kinship. People kept asking for a formula or a secret answer to make their organization thrive more or their service more pungent and he continuously and patiently responded with: kinship. "When people join a gang, it's not because they have hope, it's not because they have things going for them; it's because they're running away from something, they're lacking hope, they're lacking kinship." -Fr. G
He told a beautiful story about how he had given a talk a few years ago in DC and brought two homies with him. He brought one that had been so badly beaten and mistreated by his mother that he thought he was worth nothing...so he fled to a gang. As this homie and Fr. G toured around DC in their free time, they visited the Holocaust Museum. When they reconvened in the lobby, the homie noticed a man sitting at a table, reading, with an empty chair next to him and a sign that read: "Holocaust Survivor". The homie looked at Fr. G and said, "hey, man, I'm going to go talk to him."
So they began talking and Fr. G stood in the background, a little embarrassed and they listened to this man talk about how he barely survived Auschwitz. He described seeing his sisters murdered and the homie said, "yeah man, I had to watch my best friend get shot." And then the Holocaust survivor described getting beaten for saying one little thing or for being out of line and the homie said, "yeah, my moms used to beat me until I couldn't see straight."
When they were done talking, Fr. G asked the homie, "let me get this straight, you were trying to compare your experiences growing up to this man surviving the Holocaust?"
The homie looked at him and said, "no, man, no. I wasn't trying to compete...I was trying to relate to him."
Kinship.
It's what we all search for. It's what we all long for. It's what the heart needs and desires. There is no secret formula or magic pill to solve the world's problems but their is a basic need a basic desire we each can strive to be for other people: kin. Instead of us vs. them; it's about brotherhood, sisterhood, finding the relation between us all and building kinship out of that.
I went to Mass at 5:30pm at the more "well to do" church in DC. Only reason I was there was to witness an amazing man speak about his experiences with faith and service. Friends, I had the privilege of meeting and listening to, Fr. Greg Boyle.
If the name doesn't sound familiar that's fine, if it slightly rings a bell, even better. Let me help you. Fr. Greg Boyle founded Homeboy industries in a rough part of LA. 27 years ago he became distraught with the reality that he was burying man after man, homie after homie, because of gang violence and he decided to do something about it. With his calm poise, perfectly timed humor and immense love, he wrote the book, Tattoos on the Heart. I read it last year and fell in love. No other book will ever compare and I highly recommend anyone and everyone to read it.
Fr. G (as the homies call him) presided over Mass and then at 7:30pm hosted a talk about faith and service. The overarching theme being kinship. People kept asking for a formula or a secret answer to make their organization thrive more or their service more pungent and he continuously and patiently responded with: kinship. "When people join a gang, it's not because they have hope, it's not because they have things going for them; it's because they're running away from something, they're lacking hope, they're lacking kinship." -Fr. G
He told a beautiful story about how he had given a talk a few years ago in DC and brought two homies with him. He brought one that had been so badly beaten and mistreated by his mother that he thought he was worth nothing...so he fled to a gang. As this homie and Fr. G toured around DC in their free time, they visited the Holocaust Museum. When they reconvened in the lobby, the homie noticed a man sitting at a table, reading, with an empty chair next to him and a sign that read: "Holocaust Survivor". The homie looked at Fr. G and said, "hey, man, I'm going to go talk to him."
So they began talking and Fr. G stood in the background, a little embarrassed and they listened to this man talk about how he barely survived Auschwitz. He described seeing his sisters murdered and the homie said, "yeah man, I had to watch my best friend get shot." And then the Holocaust survivor described getting beaten for saying one little thing or for being out of line and the homie said, "yeah, my moms used to beat me until I couldn't see straight."
When they were done talking, Fr. G asked the homie, "let me get this straight, you were trying to compare your experiences growing up to this man surviving the Holocaust?"
The homie looked at him and said, "no, man, no. I wasn't trying to compete...I was trying to relate to him."
Kinship.
It's what we all search for. It's what we all long for. It's what the heart needs and desires. There is no secret formula or magic pill to solve the world's problems but their is a basic need a basic desire we each can strive to be for other people: kin. Instead of us vs. them; it's about brotherhood, sisterhood, finding the relation between us all and building kinship out of that.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Speramus Meliora - Resurget Cineribus
Speramus Meliora - Resurget Cineribus : "We hope for better things - It will rise from the ashes"
These interesting Latin words are the motto inscribed on the Detroit seal and flag. They were written by Gabriel Richard after the fire of 1805. The fire caused the entire city to burn with only one building saved from the flames. The words intended for the 1805 fire, still ring true today.
As I headed into Detroit, I was excited and nervous to see what the blemish of America would look like. I'm sure you've heard the same things I've heard: crime, poverty, murder, broken glass, danger, etc. When I got there, my brother gave me an incredibly well rounded view of the city.
In its prime, Detroit was the motor capitol of the world. The assembly line, Ford, GM and anything car related was in Detroit. Which in turn, meant it housed over 5 million people at one point. Now, a mere skeleton of the city remains. There are maybe 500,000 people living there now and the motor industry is all but gutted.
We drove through neighborhood after neighborhood of empty, abandoned homes. It was like a bomb had hit and people fled; leaving everything behind. It costs too much to knock the houses down so there they stand, remembering the people who once inhabited them and hoping for better things.
At one point, we drove through Highland Park. The most impoverished part of Detroit. They have no electricity for their street lights because it costs too much and the schools have all shut down. It was crazy to think that kids currently lived here, did their homework here, played here, ate dinner with their families here, all while nestled among the abandoned homes and darkened street lights.
But, amidst the shambles and the emptiness, was hope. People turning empty lots into gardens, people making abandoned homes into artwork, people trying to rebuild, trying to rise from the ashes. It reminded me of a way larger scale of Bridgeport, CT.
On Easter, we went to Mass at a church that my brother had warned me about. He said, "Katie, last time I was here, you could see the sky through the roof because of all the holes. So if it rains, pick a seat with a roof over it." So when we walked in, I was humbled by the simplicity of the church and awe struck by the warmth I felt. Each parishioner greeted us and made us feel welcome. At the sign of the peace, it was a good 15 minutes of EVERYONE greeting each other and wishing them a happy Easter. I felt love. I felt warmth. I felt hope; right there, in the ashes.
Coming away from Detroit, my views are changed. Yes, it probably is dangerous. But we can't shy away from a city that needs so much support. They don't need my sympathy, they don't need my love, they have plenty of that. There's so much Detroit pride that I can't help but want to be swept up in it. The people are beautiful, the strength is admirable and the warmth of 500,000 in a city that swallows them whole is unlike any other warmth I've ever felt, even if it is having to fight to rise from the ashes.
Speramus Meliora - Resurget Cineribus
These interesting Latin words are the motto inscribed on the Detroit seal and flag. They were written by Gabriel Richard after the fire of 1805. The fire caused the entire city to burn with only one building saved from the flames. The words intended for the 1805 fire, still ring true today.
As I headed into Detroit, I was excited and nervous to see what the blemish of America would look like. I'm sure you've heard the same things I've heard: crime, poverty, murder, broken glass, danger, etc. When I got there, my brother gave me an incredibly well rounded view of the city.
In its prime, Detroit was the motor capitol of the world. The assembly line, Ford, GM and anything car related was in Detroit. Which in turn, meant it housed over 5 million people at one point. Now, a mere skeleton of the city remains. There are maybe 500,000 people living there now and the motor industry is all but gutted.
We drove through neighborhood after neighborhood of empty, abandoned homes. It was like a bomb had hit and people fled; leaving everything behind. It costs too much to knock the houses down so there they stand, remembering the people who once inhabited them and hoping for better things.
At one point, we drove through Highland Park. The most impoverished part of Detroit. They have no electricity for their street lights because it costs too much and the schools have all shut down. It was crazy to think that kids currently lived here, did their homework here, played here, ate dinner with their families here, all while nestled among the abandoned homes and darkened street lights.
But, amidst the shambles and the emptiness, was hope. People turning empty lots into gardens, people making abandoned homes into artwork, people trying to rebuild, trying to rise from the ashes. It reminded me of a way larger scale of Bridgeport, CT.
On Easter, we went to Mass at a church that my brother had warned me about. He said, "Katie, last time I was here, you could see the sky through the roof because of all the holes. So if it rains, pick a seat with a roof over it." So when we walked in, I was humbled by the simplicity of the church and awe struck by the warmth I felt. Each parishioner greeted us and made us feel welcome. At the sign of the peace, it was a good 15 minutes of EVERYONE greeting each other and wishing them a happy Easter. I felt love. I felt warmth. I felt hope; right there, in the ashes.
Coming away from Detroit, my views are changed. Yes, it probably is dangerous. But we can't shy away from a city that needs so much support. They don't need my sympathy, they don't need my love, they have plenty of that. There's so much Detroit pride that I can't help but want to be swept up in it. The people are beautiful, the strength is admirable and the warmth of 500,000 in a city that swallows them whole is unlike any other warmth I've ever felt, even if it is having to fight to rise from the ashes.
Speramus Meliora - Resurget Cineribus
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Holy Week
It's Holy Week, friends! This year, it's been an interesting Lenten ride for sure.
Last year, a wonderful, amazing, beautiful friend (yes, Kelsey, it's you) sent me this calendar to help with making Lent more meaningful. So this year, I decided to pick it up again, but 2013 style. (here's the link: http://bustedhalo.com/features/fast-pray-give-2013)
My favorite reflection so far was the one for February 25th. The quote by Danial Day Lewis is great, but the reflection hits me the most. His quote: "I like things that make you grit your teeth. I like tucking my chin in and sort of leading into the storm." — Daniel Day-Lewis
The reflection:
FAST from making excuses for not getting a difficult task done.
PRAY for the courage to lean into an uncomfortable situation.
GIVE your support today to someone who is in a tough leadership position.
I think this one speaks to me because it's the skill I have always lacked the most. I always pray for God to speak through me and to help me speak the words He wants me to say; but I never specifically say, "hey look, big Guy, I need help with standing up for myself. I need help leaning into the storm."
Yet, during this Lenten season, I feel like so many little storms have popped up and I've had no choice but to lean into them. Sure, I tried to reroute and avoid the storms completely, but bottling them up or pushing them aside put me even deeper into a mess. When I think of nestling up to the difficult and ugly things in life (like standing up for myself against bullies, supervisors and acquaintances) I am scared straight.
About two weeks ago I had to stand up for myself and the mere thought of talking to this guy made me tremble. Before I called him, I looked at myself in the mirror and prayed, "God, speak through me and help me speak the words You want me to say; the words this guy needs to hear." Low and behold, I was still scared to call this dude, but courage was there; tenacity and strength were there and I didn't budge on my position one bit during our conversation. I can't help but think God gave me the words I needed to say because otherwise I would've been a bumbling idiot.
Subconsciously, I think I've always viewed standing up for myself as being difficult or mean or needy; and I've never wanted to be labeled as unkind. But in reality, upon reflection, I am realizing that in standing up for myself, I am honoring the principles and the person God created. I am respecting myself and the gift God made in me. Now, how is that unkind? How is that being mean? I think changing my outlook helps me to advocate for myself and helps me form stronger and better bonds with those around me.
So I guess this Lenten season's theme for me is courage. It should be a no brainer because Jesus had to have incredible courage to willingly be crucified but I have never thought of it that way. Jesus stood on his principles, stood up to bullies and supervisors and He is the reason for Lent. So in taking a page out of Daniel Day-Lewis' book, I am tucking my chin in and leaning into the storm.
***Lastly, the "Give" part of the reflection for Palm Sunday was "Tell three people why you love them today." When I'm done posting, I'm going to complete that challenge. I hope you will do the same.
Last year, a wonderful, amazing, beautiful friend (yes, Kelsey, it's you) sent me this calendar to help with making Lent more meaningful. So this year, I decided to pick it up again, but 2013 style. (here's the link: http://bustedhalo.com/features/fast-pray-give-2013)
My favorite reflection so far was the one for February 25th. The quote by Danial Day Lewis is great, but the reflection hits me the most. His quote: "I like things that make you grit your teeth. I like tucking my chin in and sort of leading into the storm." — Daniel Day-Lewis
The reflection:
FAST from making excuses for not getting a difficult task done.
PRAY for the courage to lean into an uncomfortable situation.
GIVE your support today to someone who is in a tough leadership position.
I think this one speaks to me because it's the skill I have always lacked the most. I always pray for God to speak through me and to help me speak the words He wants me to say; but I never specifically say, "hey look, big Guy, I need help with standing up for myself. I need help leaning into the storm."
Yet, during this Lenten season, I feel like so many little storms have popped up and I've had no choice but to lean into them. Sure, I tried to reroute and avoid the storms completely, but bottling them up or pushing them aside put me even deeper into a mess. When I think of nestling up to the difficult and ugly things in life (like standing up for myself against bullies, supervisors and acquaintances) I am scared straight.
About two weeks ago I had to stand up for myself and the mere thought of talking to this guy made me tremble. Before I called him, I looked at myself in the mirror and prayed, "God, speak through me and help me speak the words You want me to say; the words this guy needs to hear." Low and behold, I was still scared to call this dude, but courage was there; tenacity and strength were there and I didn't budge on my position one bit during our conversation. I can't help but think God gave me the words I needed to say because otherwise I would've been a bumbling idiot.
Subconsciously, I think I've always viewed standing up for myself as being difficult or mean or needy; and I've never wanted to be labeled as unkind. But in reality, upon reflection, I am realizing that in standing up for myself, I am honoring the principles and the person God created. I am respecting myself and the gift God made in me. Now, how is that unkind? How is that being mean? I think changing my outlook helps me to advocate for myself and helps me form stronger and better bonds with those around me.
So I guess this Lenten season's theme for me is courage. It should be a no brainer because Jesus had to have incredible courage to willingly be crucified but I have never thought of it that way. Jesus stood on his principles, stood up to bullies and supervisors and He is the reason for Lent. So in taking a page out of Daniel Day-Lewis' book, I am tucking my chin in and leaning into the storm.
***Lastly, the "Give" part of the reflection for Palm Sunday was "Tell three people why you love them today." When I'm done posting, I'm going to complete that challenge. I hope you will do the same.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Almost a Year
It's been almost a year since her 24th birthday.
Almost a year since kids laughed at her goofy dance moves.
Almost a year since her booming voice resonated with those around her.
Almost a year since she told a dirty joke.
Almost a year since she hugged a friend.
Almost a year since she kissed a boo-boo.
Almost a year since she called someone out for poor life choices.
Almost a year since her mother heard her voice.
Almost a year since she motivated friends to greatness.
Almost a year since I got an encouraging text from her.
Almost a year and it still hurts.
My dad told me a quote yesterday that really resonated with me: "Without a hurt, a heart feels hollow."
This particular hurt has been with me for almost a year now. And although the hurt has eased up a bit, she's still with me; especially with the anniversary just around the corner. It's crazy to think what Chantel would be doing now. She would've graduated from college, been a nurse, living hard and loving even harder. She'd be sprinting to her 25th birthday, embracing the landmark year and looking fabulous. It's even crazier to think of what she'd be saying to me.
Chantel was such a spit fire. She and I got along so well because we balanced each other out: she didn't take crap from anyone and I taught her patience. Between the two of us, we grew and learned a lot from one another. She was 5'0" but had the personality of a giant. She had opinions and wasn't afraid to let them be known to anyone at any volume. But she loved hard too. Oh, did she love.
The kids were everything to her. She was in charge of the older girls and it was obvious how much they looked up to her. They idolized her tenacity, her courage, her humor and her ability to talk to men like they were nothing to be afraid of. Who are we kidding? I envied her ability to do that as well.
We would probably be laughing and crying; two things we were very good at. We would probably be having a deep conversation about our dreams or goals or dumb decisions with men. She'd always tell me, usually with tears in her eyes, "Katie, you are the nicest person I have ever met and I am willing to butcher any man who takes advantage of your kindness." But that was Chantel, a sweet compliment with a side of irreverence. I truly loved her as a friend and try to carry some of her spunk with me. Whenever I feel on the verge of being a doormat to others, I think of her and what she would be yelling at me.
I can't believe she's been gone for a almost a year. I can't believe the hurt is still there, under 365 days of life since her death. But, I guess that hurt serves as an incredible reminder that my heart isn't hollow and will never be as long as I carry her tenacious spirit with me. I love and miss you today and every day, Channy, thank you for the life you lived and the spirit you left behind.
Almost a year since kids laughed at her goofy dance moves.
Almost a year since her booming voice resonated with those around her.
Almost a year since she told a dirty joke.
Almost a year since she hugged a friend.
Almost a year since she kissed a boo-boo.
Almost a year since she called someone out for poor life choices.
Almost a year since her mother heard her voice.
Almost a year since she motivated friends to greatness.
Almost a year since I got an encouraging text from her.
Almost a year and it still hurts.
My dad told me a quote yesterday that really resonated with me: "Without a hurt, a heart feels hollow."
This particular hurt has been with me for almost a year now. And although the hurt has eased up a bit, she's still with me; especially with the anniversary just around the corner. It's crazy to think what Chantel would be doing now. She would've graduated from college, been a nurse, living hard and loving even harder. She'd be sprinting to her 25th birthday, embracing the landmark year and looking fabulous. It's even crazier to think of what she'd be saying to me.
Chantel was such a spit fire. She and I got along so well because we balanced each other out: she didn't take crap from anyone and I taught her patience. Between the two of us, we grew and learned a lot from one another. She was 5'0" but had the personality of a giant. She had opinions and wasn't afraid to let them be known to anyone at any volume. But she loved hard too. Oh, did she love.
The kids were everything to her. She was in charge of the older girls and it was obvious how much they looked up to her. They idolized her tenacity, her courage, her humor and her ability to talk to men like they were nothing to be afraid of. Who are we kidding? I envied her ability to do that as well.
We would probably be laughing and crying; two things we were very good at. We would probably be having a deep conversation about our dreams or goals or dumb decisions with men. She'd always tell me, usually with tears in her eyes, "Katie, you are the nicest person I have ever met and I am willing to butcher any man who takes advantage of your kindness." But that was Chantel, a sweet compliment with a side of irreverence. I truly loved her as a friend and try to carry some of her spunk with me. Whenever I feel on the verge of being a doormat to others, I think of her and what she would be yelling at me.
I can't believe she's been gone for a almost a year. I can't believe the hurt is still there, under 365 days of life since her death. But, I guess that hurt serves as an incredible reminder that my heart isn't hollow and will never be as long as I carry her tenacious spirit with me. I love and miss you today and every day, Channy, thank you for the life you lived and the spirit you left behind.
 | |
| 3/16/1988 - 3/17/2012 |
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Investing in Service
It's Sunday! And I am actually posting on time this time! hahaha...
This week we had a campus wide staff meeting about our school's expansion. If you don't know, my school is expanding their charter and will add 1st grade next year, 2nd grade in 2014 and so on, all the way up to 5th grade. So the meeting was held to inform us on the changes and served as an opportunity to ask questions and brainstorm ideas for the school's future.
About an hour into the meeting, the founder of my school split our 45-person staff into four groups to discuss four major topics. Each group was assigned one topic. My topic: Embracing Diversity. As we started discussing the ways to cultivate awareness and pride in each culture in our school, we also discussed how special needs seminars and workshops should be offered as well to help educate the people (including staff) of our school.
Once that streamline of thought started to fizzle out, I suggested social justice and what that could look like in terms of diversity of world views and societal views to our kids. The founder of my school was sitting in on this part of the conversation and she asked me to expand on my thought process.
After two years of being engrossed in social justice and spreading knowledge and stories of experience, I jumped at the opportunity to take the floor. So I dove in. I explained how as teachers we are more than educators of academics but we also want to raise kind, thoughtful, giving, socially aware human beings as well. I through some ideas out there like: campus wide dedication to service. For example: Kindergarten writes letters every month to different nursing homes, veterans hospitals, etc. 1st Grade: Cleans up the school or neighborhood. and it keeps going until they get to 4th or 5th Grade where, the ball is now in their court and they have to brainstorm a service project to plan out and implement...i.e. coat drives, getting stop signs put up in areas that need them, etc.
The founder of my school started to get really excited about this and asked me if we could even take it a step further and develop a curriculum around what social justice is. I felt on fire with ideas and starting spitting out: well, we could have different populations each month like homelessness, the environment, the elderly, low income children, immigration, gender equality, etc. The founder of my school pulled me aside after the meeting and asked if I wanted to sit on the committee for this topic and I emphatically agreed.
To get to my point. Through my time with Agape, I realized how much children can do and how little we think they can do. I always underestimate the power of a child; but to be perfectly frank , their idealism, their creativity, their excitement, their lack of bitterness (that comes with aging) is what will change the world for the better. I don't want to wait until kids are 15 to start promoting social justice driven actions, I want to start at 5. I want a 5-year-old to look at a homeless person and think, "wait, I learned about this in school...he's just like me;" instead of whatever stereotype that could possibly be ingrained into their brains thereafter. I want to beat the stereotype to the punch. I want to invest in kindness and love for ones neighbor as much as we invest in reading, writing and math. Because what good are the academia if the person is selfish, rude, mean and uncaring of others' sufferings?
I am excited to begin working on the curriculum and brainstorming ideas and projects and lessons that will shape the attitudes these kids have about the marginalized and the poor. I'm excited to invest in service and I think I might've found my future career path...who knows...but this framework really gives me energy and excitement. Stay tuned!
This week we had a campus wide staff meeting about our school's expansion. If you don't know, my school is expanding their charter and will add 1st grade next year, 2nd grade in 2014 and so on, all the way up to 5th grade. So the meeting was held to inform us on the changes and served as an opportunity to ask questions and brainstorm ideas for the school's future.
About an hour into the meeting, the founder of my school split our 45-person staff into four groups to discuss four major topics. Each group was assigned one topic. My topic: Embracing Diversity. As we started discussing the ways to cultivate awareness and pride in each culture in our school, we also discussed how special needs seminars and workshops should be offered as well to help educate the people (including staff) of our school.
Once that streamline of thought started to fizzle out, I suggested social justice and what that could look like in terms of diversity of world views and societal views to our kids. The founder of my school was sitting in on this part of the conversation and she asked me to expand on my thought process.
After two years of being engrossed in social justice and spreading knowledge and stories of experience, I jumped at the opportunity to take the floor. So I dove in. I explained how as teachers we are more than educators of academics but we also want to raise kind, thoughtful, giving, socially aware human beings as well. I through some ideas out there like: campus wide dedication to service. For example: Kindergarten writes letters every month to different nursing homes, veterans hospitals, etc. 1st Grade: Cleans up the school or neighborhood. and it keeps going until they get to 4th or 5th Grade where, the ball is now in their court and they have to brainstorm a service project to plan out and implement...i.e. coat drives, getting stop signs put up in areas that need them, etc.
The founder of my school started to get really excited about this and asked me if we could even take it a step further and develop a curriculum around what social justice is. I felt on fire with ideas and starting spitting out: well, we could have different populations each month like homelessness, the environment, the elderly, low income children, immigration, gender equality, etc. The founder of my school pulled me aside after the meeting and asked if I wanted to sit on the committee for this topic and I emphatically agreed.
To get to my point. Through my time with Agape, I realized how much children can do and how little we think they can do. I always underestimate the power of a child; but to be perfectly frank , their idealism, their creativity, their excitement, their lack of bitterness (that comes with aging) is what will change the world for the better. I don't want to wait until kids are 15 to start promoting social justice driven actions, I want to start at 5. I want a 5-year-old to look at a homeless person and think, "wait, I learned about this in school...he's just like me;" instead of whatever stereotype that could possibly be ingrained into their brains thereafter. I want to beat the stereotype to the punch. I want to invest in kindness and love for ones neighbor as much as we invest in reading, writing and math. Because what good are the academia if the person is selfish, rude, mean and uncaring of others' sufferings?
I am excited to begin working on the curriculum and brainstorming ideas and projects and lessons that will shape the attitudes these kids have about the marginalized and the poor. I'm excited to invest in service and I think I might've found my future career path...who knows...but this framework really gives me energy and excitement. Stay tuned!
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Let Me Love You
I have my little friend who was adopted in December. She has her struggles, she has her hard days, her heart longs to love but I can see that she holds back. It baffles me that a five-year-old has to grapple with emotions that should be reserved for those who are of age to vote.
For the longest time, I thought these lyrics (to Let Me Love You) were primarily for romantic relationships but when my little friend came up to me today, I got teary eyed and made another connection. At recess she reached up to my hand and put her tiny, freezing cold hand into it. She looked up at me with the most pure and honest eyes and said, "Ms. Katie, I wish I was your mom."
Knowing her struggles with her home life and her reluctance to open up to anyone, I was a little confused by this and decided to dig a little deeper so I smiled and said, "why, D?"
She tugged at my arm and pulled me down to her level and whispered into my ear, "because then I'd get to see you all the time."
Needless to say, I got a bit choked up. She is letting me love her. With watery eyes, I looked down at her and said, "that would make me very happy, D."
As I sit here reflecting, I also think about the men and women I had the fortune of knowing at MK last year when I was a case manager. So many of them had walls up and reluctance to let anyone in, let alone a spunky, quirky little white girl from the Pacific Northwest who listened to "Call Me Maybe" on repeat in the dining room...but some of them did. Some of them took the plunge and actually let me love them and it's funny, but I realized the walls I had put up as well.
I realized that deep down, my idea of service or "loving thy neighbor" was very one-sided...I did all the loving and they had to just take it. But what good was that? What a silly way to think of relationships! Only once I equally let them in, and equally let them love me, was I able to able to fully love myself.
This brings me to how I want to approach others...strangers, tellers, bus drivers, roommates, "enemies" and my students. My little student, full of confusion and pain, let me in and likewise (judging by my tears currently) I let her in. The equal exchange of lowering walls and meeting each other, equally broken, equally flawed and equally pained opens the door to an incredible love that I have a hard time describing. An incredible love that makes life the amazing thing it is. What a beautiful little girl and what an amazing blessing I have in my life; just resting in the palm of my hand.
The lyrics are really beautiful:
"Let me love you
And I will love you
Until you learn to love yourself
Let me love you
I know your troubled
Don't be afraid, let me help"
(Yes, friends, the lyrics are from Ne-Yo - BUT there's an acoustic version by Travis Garland that is amazing - plus Glee's version was wonderful too - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DoIr-_-9GKM)
For the longest time, I thought these lyrics (to Let Me Love You) were primarily for romantic relationships but when my little friend came up to me today, I got teary eyed and made another connection. At recess she reached up to my hand and put her tiny, freezing cold hand into it. She looked up at me with the most pure and honest eyes and said, "Ms. Katie, I wish I was your mom."
Knowing her struggles with her home life and her reluctance to open up to anyone, I was a little confused by this and decided to dig a little deeper so I smiled and said, "why, D?"
She tugged at my arm and pulled me down to her level and whispered into my ear, "because then I'd get to see you all the time."
Needless to say, I got a bit choked up. She is letting me love her. With watery eyes, I looked down at her and said, "that would make me very happy, D."
As I sit here reflecting, I also think about the men and women I had the fortune of knowing at MK last year when I was a case manager. So many of them had walls up and reluctance to let anyone in, let alone a spunky, quirky little white girl from the Pacific Northwest who listened to "Call Me Maybe" on repeat in the dining room...but some of them did. Some of them took the plunge and actually let me love them and it's funny, but I realized the walls I had put up as well.
I realized that deep down, my idea of service or "loving thy neighbor" was very one-sided...I did all the loving and they had to just take it. But what good was that? What a silly way to think of relationships! Only once I equally let them in, and equally let them love me, was I able to able to fully love myself.
This brings me to how I want to approach others...strangers, tellers, bus drivers, roommates, "enemies" and my students. My little student, full of confusion and pain, let me in and likewise (judging by my tears currently) I let her in. The equal exchange of lowering walls and meeting each other, equally broken, equally flawed and equally pained opens the door to an incredible love that I have a hard time describing. An incredible love that makes life the amazing thing it is. What a beautiful little girl and what an amazing blessing I have in my life; just resting in the palm of my hand.
The lyrics are really beautiful:
"Let me love you
And I will love you
Until you learn to love yourself
Let me love you
I know your troubled
Don't be afraid, let me help"
(Yes, friends, the lyrics are from Ne-Yo - BUT there's an acoustic version by Travis Garland that is amazing - plus Glee's version was wonderful too - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DoIr-_-9GKM)
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Magnificent
As I was sitting in class this week, many different feelings ran through my body. We are in week 24 of 39 weeks of school...which, if you're a math whiz you can figure out, is more than halfway through the year. Scary thought that in 14 weeks, it's summer break. More scary and more painful is that my kids will leave me.
It's funny because no matter who I am talking to, old, young, teacher, non-teacher, cashier, mailman, friend, family, acquaintance, etc. they always say something along the lines of: "wow, what an impact you're making on their little lives...they are lucky to have you."
In reality, I am so blessed to have them. Who else can say that they get to play dress up, kiss boo boos, laugh constantly at silly, absurd things, see changes and growth and a spark for learning ignite, on a daily basis. Friends, I get to do this.
This week, my favorite student, Tito, was talking to me during lunch (my favorite time during the day because there's no agenda or learning happening). We were talking about whatever, either singing Rihanna lyrics or having "Girl Talk" when he was suddenly taken by my scarf. He lifted up it's shimmery, light blue tassels at the end, and said, "Can I take this home?" I looked at him and said, "T, I can't give this to you. It was a gift from my sister; she'd be so mad!" Unphased, still mesmerized by the scarf, he lifted it up and whispered in awe, "it's just magnificent."
Big vocab word there. I certainly didn't teach him that. But the point being, I love the passing of knowledge from me to them but the thing that wakes me up every morning, the thing that keeps me excited to see them every day, is the small, little, silly things that light my heart with joy. Between them dancing the Cha Cha slide or Gangnam style or Soul Train (yes, we did this), or saying the perfect thing at the right moment or just saying something so out there that it didn't make sense at all; it's all so magnificent.
I had one friend help me read a book during lunch in front of the entire class. He helped me flip the pages as I read so he sat directly next to me while the other kids were on the carpet. About halfway through the book, he stood up and shoved his hand down his pants. (Graphic here, sorry, friends) Stunned, I looked at him and whispered, "what are you doing?" He point blank looked at me and sternly and loudly said, "I got to make sure my penis is still there!" (Duh, Ms. Katie...duh.)
Unpredictable. Undefined. Magnificent.
Coming full circle, they are going to move on to 1st grade next year. They won't be mine anymore. I think that is a major down side of teaching that never occurred to me before: they get older. As much as I have been to them and as much as I've taught them...they have blessed my life and given my life so much meaning. I laugh, I cry, I scratch my head but in the end, I love them and that is just... magnificent.
It's funny because no matter who I am talking to, old, young, teacher, non-teacher, cashier, mailman, friend, family, acquaintance, etc. they always say something along the lines of: "wow, what an impact you're making on their little lives...they are lucky to have you."
In reality, I am so blessed to have them. Who else can say that they get to play dress up, kiss boo boos, laugh constantly at silly, absurd things, see changes and growth and a spark for learning ignite, on a daily basis. Friends, I get to do this.
This week, my favorite student, Tito, was talking to me during lunch (my favorite time during the day because there's no agenda or learning happening). We were talking about whatever, either singing Rihanna lyrics or having "Girl Talk" when he was suddenly taken by my scarf. He lifted up it's shimmery, light blue tassels at the end, and said, "Can I take this home?" I looked at him and said, "T, I can't give this to you. It was a gift from my sister; she'd be so mad!" Unphased, still mesmerized by the scarf, he lifted it up and whispered in awe, "it's just magnificent."
Big vocab word there. I certainly didn't teach him that. But the point being, I love the passing of knowledge from me to them but the thing that wakes me up every morning, the thing that keeps me excited to see them every day, is the small, little, silly things that light my heart with joy. Between them dancing the Cha Cha slide or Gangnam style or Soul Train (yes, we did this), or saying the perfect thing at the right moment or just saying something so out there that it didn't make sense at all; it's all so magnificent.
I had one friend help me read a book during lunch in front of the entire class. He helped me flip the pages as I read so he sat directly next to me while the other kids were on the carpet. About halfway through the book, he stood up and shoved his hand down his pants. (Graphic here, sorry, friends) Stunned, I looked at him and whispered, "what are you doing?" He point blank looked at me and sternly and loudly said, "I got to make sure my penis is still there!" (Duh, Ms. Katie...duh.)
Unpredictable. Undefined. Magnificent.
Coming full circle, they are going to move on to 1st grade next year. They won't be mine anymore. I think that is a major down side of teaching that never occurred to me before: they get older. As much as I have been to them and as much as I've taught them...they have blessed my life and given my life so much meaning. I laugh, I cry, I scratch my head but in the end, I love them and that is just... magnificent.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Valentine's Day: Not Just for Couples
It’s that time of year again; a time of loving, giving,
forgiving, caring and sharing: it’s Valentine’s Day!
I am not a bitter, single lady nor have I ever been; but it
does bother me a little that this wonderful holiday is usually reserved for
those in romantic relationships.
I’m waiting for someone to call Hallmark or Lifetime and
tell them: It’s a day of love…for everyone!
It’s a day of wonderful, beautiful, fantastic, LOVE and I
think love is only wonderful when it’s shared with others; regardless of your
relationship status. Love shared with mothers, fathers, grandmothers,
grandfathers, store clerks, bus drivers, teachers, doctors, kids, garbage people and
homeless people. Love that should be given to all. As much as my unicorn and
rainbow coated world would like for mankind to love all year around, I realize
the magnitude of that request and the near impossibility of it. So I may just
have to settle for one day out of the year…and I choose the day already
dedicated to love…Valentine’s Day.
I am reminded of my favorite Mother Teresa quote: “I have
learned the paradox: If I love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only
more love.”
It helps to remind me that I may not know where to or who to
direct my love at but as long as I’m doing it (loving) with the fullest of my
being, without relationship status or boundaries, than there can be no more
hurt…only love.
So for this Valentine’s Day, I want to spread love in every
direction – friends, family, strangers, significant others, kids, the elderly,
orange, brown, pink or blue – because this world needs less hurt and what
better day to begin alleviating that hurt than on Valentine’s Day?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)