Hope~Imagination~Dreams~Courage

"Hope lies in dreams, in imagination, and in the courage of those who dare to make dreams into reality."         ~Jonas Salk

This is what I know...

My hope for a bright future lies in the dreams, imaginations and courageous acts of my learners. At the beginning of this year, my hope began fleeting fast. This cluster of gifted and high-achieving fifth graders cried, doubted, whined, doubted complained, doubted, argued, doubted, cried, doubted, and whined some more.  Feeling emotions with intensity and magnification... beginning days ended with wondering what disruption thenext day would hold.  Imagining the fertile soil of a classroom community of growing learners seemed impossible.

Determined to disallow persistent doubt to harden this soil of learners, I dug deep for the long haul.  Knowing that a caring and empathetic classroom were imperative for optimal learning, I realized this year would be one of my toughest challenges.  Despite my daily sunny smiles and  warm welcomes, I was met with slumping shoulders, grumpy grunts, and "rain on my day" attitudes.  Every now and then I glimpsed signs hope: a returned smile or a tiny "Morning." My hope soared... imagining a classroom environment growing with compassion consumed me.

Determined to cultivate a cohesive and respectful learning environment, I pulled community building strategies from files, scoured the internet for new ideas regarding respect, studied anti-bullying lessons with heart-felt themes, and planned experiences to understand the value of empathy. We read and discussed literature about diverse communities, we wrote our thoughts about the characters' lives, and how their decisions and choices impacted others.  We attempted to resolve classroom snippiness, snarky comments, rudeness through sharing and problem-solving.  We read, we discussed, we role-played, we wrote... nothing seemed penetrate this tough outer covering.   My hope for a caring garden of learners began to wane. In my dreaming, I realized more patience woven with less frustration was necessary for this crop.

Determined to persevere or just "make it through the next day" by putting one foot in front of the other...
I trudged through my classroom: bookshleves filled with books, sounds of jazzy Pandora, Tower Garden complete with water falling, round tables encouraging rich conversation, a classroom with Zen-like ambiance. Taking a deep breath, I summoned every ounce of courage I could muster. My expectations were still there, laying just beneath the surface.  Testing, assessing, and checklists all showed little growth in areas of academics... reality of early retirement loomed.

Then all of a sudden, out of no where, I am beginning to witness emotional and social seedlings break this hard surface...sheepish smiles and sweet greetings meet me most mornings, kids speaking to one another with genuine kindness, where spiteful and ugly words were once spewed, their tone is becoming respectful in their disagreements.  A love for learning is evident, the buzz of meaningful learning crowds the sound of peaceful falling water within the Tower Garden.  Authentic questions and wonderings inspiring each other to read closer and write deeper.  Dreams for this group of drought-stricken intelligent souls are becoming a reality.

Learners in 5A continue to experience disappointments, doubts, and dailly struggles, now with finese. The struggles these learners experience are extending their roots for optimal growth . Courageous acts of spirited individuals has transformed this, once-believed, hopeless field to a fertile soil; one that encourages care, empathy, respect. Eager learners becoming the reality I hoped existed. My hope for a bright future EXISTS in the dreams, imagination and courage of this year's fifth grade learners.

This is what I believe... 

Adverbs and Dancing Pigs

SOL#2   Adverbs and Dancing Pigs!

Yesterday I was using a mentor sentence from a book called The Snowglobe Family.  Teaching life was rolling along... sentence analysis with revision sentences being created by fifth grade writers.

Next on the agenda, a brief lesson creating sentences using adverbs.  Distributing base sentences to groups of students...  "The dog barked."  "The children played."  My personal favorite:  "The pig danced."

As I walked around the room noticing the usual  sentence revisions with adverbs:  "The dog barked loudly."  "The children played yesterday."  The dancing pig group extended their sentence as follows:  "The pig danced happily."  "The pig danced happily in the mud."  "The pig danced happily in the mud yesterday."  Thinking to myself, I have found the grand finale group!  (The emphasis on the words "in the mud" is key because we have been working on adding preposistional phrases to our sentences... please keep this in mind as you continue!)

Share... share... share...  Now for the dancing pig!

The group was ecstatic that their sentence was extended unlike everyone else's!  So as we began analyzing the use of adverbs...  I get to the words "in the mud".   In my excitement for this group, I ask the students: "Okay, what is in the mud?"  The response from the entire class, "The pig!"

I did one of those... SMH moments... then dove in again!  "Let's try this again... What IS in the mud?" (All the while, I am using both hands creating "air" parentheses to remind them how we designate prepositional phrases in sentences.)  Choral response from fewer students, just as enthusiastic but a litttle less confident:  "Pigs!?!"

As I reflect about this teaching moment, I giggle and am reminded, with all the pressures and pleasures of teaching... God allows me to experience humor and keeps me grounded with the truth:  I teach children not grammar, not sentence revision, not sentence analysis, not adverbs.  Really, I teach kids who love to laugh and learn!  Blessed!

Slice of Life #1

Randomness...

Two years?  Really?  Well, here I am accepting the Slice of Life Challenge from the Two Writing Sisters... again.

After ten, I should be in bed... my husband has already been in here once.  So, I will make this first post short!

A Normal Slice of my Sundays:

Upon feet hitting the floor,
stumble to the coffee maker.

Sit in silence
Watching the morning news

Get up, get moving
Leave for church

Grocery store
Every single Sunday

Lunch at either
La Siesta or Camino Real

Home again,
putting groceries in their spot

School work begins...
Until now!

Add to my routine for the month of March
Slicing parts of my days.

Rocking Chair Literacy

Slice of Life Challenge #1... just like life and running, I am a tad bit behind!                                  3.3.13

I am a first year literacy coach, grades 3-6.  This year has been a very revealing and reflective year for me.  Beginning my 19th year of teaching,  when my principal called and asked if I would be interested, I thought about this for about five minutes... then called her back and a agreed to take this on!

Having always been a fifth/sixth grade language arts teacher, I was a little uncomfortable, no~ PETRIFIED to see those third graders coming to my literacy library!  I have my master's degree in reading, but my focus was on adolescent literacy, not diagnostic.  Ask any of my former students, I am PASSIONATE about reading and writing & writing and reading!  I love the challenges that were put forth every day by my previous students: find me a book I will love, I have read most books in the library , how do I make my writing better, etc.  Students who challenge me, cause me to think deeper; I hope I have done the same with them over the years.  

However, I truly don't get why some students struggle with reading!  Now, don't take this the wrong way, please!  I do know there are children who do have learning/reading struggles.  I realize there are holes to be filled.  In a society where books are available through many sources, why is it that children don't read?  Mind-boggling!  

My school is what I would call a fairly affluent school.  For the most part,  the small groups of students I serve on a daily basis are non-readers.  It is really not that they can't read; they just haven't practiced.  I find this heart-breaking!  Why haven't they been turned on to reading?  Who is responsible for this?  Teachers?  The child's first teacher~Parents?  Siblings?  Grand-parents?  Babysitters?  Day Care?  Preschool?  All of the above, beginning with the mom!  

While she is carrying the babe in her womb, why not sit in the comfort of a rocking chair and read to that sweet baby!  The vibrations of the voice have to reach the child... the rhythm of the language... the few minutes alone, away from the hectic daily life... a little joy to end each day... a poem, a chapter of your favorite book, a devotional, a favorite kid's book, whatever is shared with the precious life within is a great way to introduce the love of the written word with this new life the mom is carrying.

I have learned to love those third graders; I knew I would.  We read and share daily celebrating the magic of the written word. We listen to the rhythm of verse.  We laugh and smile, and celebrate small successes daily.  We hug and high five. We struggle and learn~together!  Reading is a community process and activity.  I have come to understand and believe the reading community I am building with my students is much like the initial "rocking chair literacy" introduction these children might have missed.  It brings me pure joy to share this with them! 

I guess time will tell if my hypothesis is correct... or if it really matters.  What  matters is that I can influence these children while I have them... test scores will be tangible evidence that will make the district sing or shout.  What they take from me about my passion for the written word and what leave with me about my lessons from life will be the greatest measure of success for us both.  

Reflections on Running...

Sunshine, blue skies, a fresh breeze... what more could a runner need or want?  Well, it appears heart, mind, and soul are important, too!  

Saturday was my third Women's Half-Marathon.  Three years ago, I was blogging through tears as I wrote about a woman who had gone down within sight of the finish line.  Last year, a new runner friend, Stacey, and I finished this grueling half in 2:37 a PR for us both.  Oh, I had hopes of smashing that time!  However, I knew my training had not gone particularly well over the past summer... heat and humidity had taken its toll.  Still, the organizers promised a flatter, faster course... a runner always hopes for that elusive PR!  

The first three or four miles were great!  My 3:1 interval was working for me.  My pace was smooth, nice and easy.  Mile five found a few of those familiar "friends" aka "hills of Nashville".  My strategy of walking up and running down came to me... So that is just what I did.  From out of no where, I slowly began to ran out of gas!  Intervals changed to 2:30/1:30.  I pulled out my gel to refuel.  That lasted for a little while... then I ran for as long as I could and walked for longer.  That is when I thought, "Do you want to finish?  Yes or No?  You have to decide!"  My mind was fighting with my heart!  This arguing, bargaining, deal-making went on and on.  

As I was walking in the Belmont area, those two still going at it, I past my friend and former running coach and another coach with Fleet Feet's program.  Their cheers caused my heart to take on new life... there for a minute I thought she would win!  My mind began remembering my running mantra: "Goal of every race, finish standing!" Gray matter won!  I decided at that moment I would walk the remaining 6-7 miles... and smile as I cross that finish line!

During my run, I had noticed all the red "Fleet Feet" training singlets walking/running by.  I knew those were first-timers... Fleet Feet of Murfreesboro had a group of lovely ladies who had trained for their first half in those same shirts!  This one particular young woman and I were leap-frogging each other.  Once my strategy had changed to walking, I came upon this woman. If I said she seemed a little down, I would be understating her demeanor.  her posture screamed, "Defeated!" So, I asked if she was okay.  She replied that her knee was hurting.  I told her I had decided to walk it the rest of the way in... she would be welcome to join me if she wanted.  

So, we walked and talked and walked and talked.  As we shared, I realized she might be experiencing the beginning of IT band troubles.  I shared stories of runners who had injuries coming back stronger than ever.  We shared slices of our lives: professional, personal, running and spiritual.  I knew that my "soul" had been the winner... God planned for our paths to cross.

God intended for my pace to slow and for me to take it easy.  He knew this way back during my miserable summer training, during the heat when I cancelled those early morning runs, air heavy, filled with moisture.  I had no idea... my thoughts back then were, "You cannot run in this heat and humidity!  Don't even try!  Maybe tomorrow will be better." Some times the next day's conditions improved, sometimes they didn't.  This is how my summer training went... inconsistent and slow.  I know other runners who ran in the same conditions; His plan for them must have been different because there were many PRs for them!  How blessed I am that my heart and mind had that discussion and my soul won... Blessed by a rookie runner half my age!

God has a simple and beautiful plan for each step we take.  Whether it is at the pace we desire or not... He is in control.  If I had stopped when the doubts began, I would not have finished the race.  I would not have been inspired and encouraged by a young twenty-eight year old beginning runner who was walking through stabbing knee-pain. 

There will be another 13.1 miles to run... 10ks and 5ks. There will be other runners who encourage and encouragers.  I needed Stephanie and her experience, as much as she needed mine.  Our stories are imprinted on each other.  Whether we realize it or not,  those miles  we shared will be remembered and shared with others. I like to think that the path of my life's journey is in the shape of a heart!     

  

God's Precious GIft

I was invited to attend Phase II of Rutherford County's Writers' Academy. What an "ILLUMINATING" experience! Surrounded by amazing writers and teachers... we shared strategies, techniques and life stories. My piece, inspired by the book The Most Important Thing is a continuation about the women in my life.

The most important thing about my step-mom, Janice, is that she is God's precious gift to me.

Janice fills my soul with inspirational glimpses of her "hard-knock" lessons of life.

Her love for my dad was a swiftly flowing river, gently smoothing and reshaping the sharp edges and deep crevices of his hardened soul.

From that blessed day, when Janice and my dad "found love in the K-Mart parking lot", God's grandest plan was being revealed.

No one had an inkling that cancer was invading this most wonderful love story. Janice promised "... in sickness and health, in poverty or wealth, 'til death do us part..."

Promises she kept.

Seven years earlier, God took my gentle and kind mom form this earth. Three years later, my dad gave up his battle with cancer... independent, tough-skinned, stubborn... the characteristics I had learned to respect and cherish... gone.

Janice and Daddy's three year love story was to come to an abrupt halt when the nemesis took him away. However, God blessed me with this precious lady--independent, yet loving; tough-skinned, yet compassionate; stubborn, yet giving.

But the most important thing about my step-mom, Janice, is that she is God's precious gift to me.

PART II: The Women in My Life: My First Friend~My Forever Friend

The most beautiful discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart. ~Elisabeth Foley

Short-cuts through the neighbor's tall shrubs to get to her home... a haven of creativity, menagerie of animals, the most beautiful French Provencial furniture, Barbie dolls and board games, spend the nights~long before "sleepovers" were thought of, movies at Mitchell-Neilson, trips on our bikes to Victory's, bags full of candy,riding bikes around and around and around our neighborhood block...

Dressing just alike in third grade, Mrs. Rogers saying we were just like Siamese twins~inseparable, walking home from school, arm-in-arm... with friends, chanting "Lions and Tiger and Bears... oh my!" and "Step on a crack, break your momma's back"...

Sixth grade memories... my cousin in class, carnival at Jackson Heights, ID bracelets, Linebaugh Library's basement children's book-checkout, Moudy's limeades & sandwiches, Sugar & Spice cookies...

High school sorority rush, disappointment, thought I had lost my BFF forever, next summer my rush, sorority parties, dances, fun times...

Just a few priceless memories of growing up with childhood friend.

We grew up together; we grew up separately. If I could hit a replay button for any part of my life... it would be the time lost with this precious childhood friend from 1974 through 1980s. I am blessed to say as adults we have grown closer again. Like in many relationships, things happen and our once closeness grew distant.

What was it that caused this distance to span for almost a decade? What else... a silly boy. As a teacher of middle school age students, whenever "girl problems" rear their ugly heads, it is usually over a member of the opposite sex. Many a "counseling session" over conflicts has resulted in me sharing my "expertise" in this particular area. I share my best advice I wish someone had shared with me... "No boy is EVER worth coming between you and a best friend!"

My past... regrets, grief over the times lost, sadness from the joys of sharing the special moments of first and lasting love, everyday life, births of children, our children growing up together... all are gone. However, they remain weighted within my innermost being. Gratefully, the silence of forgiveness occurred somewhere along the way to maturity. Today, I can write this knowing my first and forever friend is still there for me and I for her.

Our present... the two of us sit together, catch up on the latest in our adult kids' lives, share our heartaches, our joys, our "maturing pains". Our focus is on listening, laughing, and a tear every now and then. We delight in the stories of silliness, trod through the tough times, and walk away carrying a piece of each other's lives... sharing the joy and dividing the pain. Inspiring, encouraging, caring and sharing are the words that resonate when I think of our times together. What a blessing!

The future... no one knows what the next moment may bring for any one of us. This I do know... if ever I need a shoulder to lean on for strength or a hug to celebrate the joys in my life... this woman will forever be there! What a comfort knowing this... my hope is that she feels the same.

Just like when we dressed alike from shoes & socks to ponytails & freckles and every inch of space in between; I believe our souls~intact, our spirits~strengthened, our hearts~identical... as if we were back in third grade.

Thank you, Sheila, for being the first friend of my life!