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.

“I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs.” -Fr. Gregg Boyle

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

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.   

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.

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

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.

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.

3/16/1988 - 3/17/2012