I'm going to relate a third party story, so forgive the generality.
There was a contest to find a pictorial representation of what peace really means. This was a world-wide contest and drew lots of interest. At the unveiling, the runner up depicted a very peaceful scene of a lake...everything about the picture screamed tranquility. Many were surprised that this one didn't take the prize, because after all, "What could be more peaceful than this?"
When the winner was selected many were a bit surprised to see a waterfall crashing on rocks far below. The crafty artist used light to take your eye to a small branch whereon a mama bird slept peacefully in a nest with her babies. The birds all looked peaceful, and therein was the beauty and true meaning of PEACE...no matter what is happening around you, you can have peace--the peace of knowing that all is well regardless.
As I ready myself to return to the middle school arena, I wish myself this same peace. I must default to what I know and the peace needs to be there. I needn't walk in with doubt...all will be well....all IS well in my world regardless of what goes on around me.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Saturday, January 12, 2008
My Little Word
After being inspired by Jen, Sara, and Kathy's words, and how they would impact them this year, I decided I probably ought to pick a word for myself. This was a hard process, and I'm pretty sure I have my word.
First I thought, commitment, then courage, and another couple of fleeting words, but the one I kept coming back to was PEACE. Not the kind of peace on earth crap the Christmas songs promulgate, but true peace.
In the bible, I forget which verse, there is a passage that says something about peace on earth. The issue is that if you go back to the Greek translation, it means peace for whom God has favor. It demystifies the whole idea of having to have peace around the world....which historically only accounts for a small percentage of actual time, anyway. So, though I am an idealist and an optimist, I don't think there will ever be peace on this earth. That doesn't mean I don't wish there was, but I digress.
I'm not cocky when I say God has favor for me. I know this because when he sent His Son to die for my sins, He meant it, and I have offered my life to serve Him however I can. I'm still working on the potty mouth thing (you could pray for me, if you've got room on your prayer list). I already have a peace within my heart, but I need to capitalize on that and walk a little closer to my Savior. I think that if I keep my focus there, it will increase everything...my productivity, my ability to prioritize, and the poise with which I deal with the minutiae of every day.
So my word is peace--the kind you can get through Jesus Christ.
First I thought, commitment, then courage, and another couple of fleeting words, but the one I kept coming back to was PEACE. Not the kind of peace on earth crap the Christmas songs promulgate, but true peace.
In the bible, I forget which verse, there is a passage that says something about peace on earth. The issue is that if you go back to the Greek translation, it means peace for whom God has favor. It demystifies the whole idea of having to have peace around the world....which historically only accounts for a small percentage of actual time, anyway. So, though I am an idealist and an optimist, I don't think there will ever be peace on this earth. That doesn't mean I don't wish there was, but I digress.
I'm not cocky when I say God has favor for me. I know this because when he sent His Son to die for my sins, He meant it, and I have offered my life to serve Him however I can. I'm still working on the potty mouth thing (you could pray for me, if you've got room on your prayer list). I already have a peace within my heart, but I need to capitalize on that and walk a little closer to my Savior. I think that if I keep my focus there, it will increase everything...my productivity, my ability to prioritize, and the poise with which I deal with the minutiae of every day.
So my word is peace--the kind you can get through Jesus Christ.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
A-mostly-dry-eye-in-the-house
I prayed this morning that I would be able to make it through the day without crying. It's not that I care if the kids see me cry--I think they need to know that adults cry. Moreover, I didn't want them to see me lose control. I was feeling on the verge of one of those cries that won't stop...that, I didn't really want them to see, but I'm not sure why. If it's o.k. for adults to cry, then why did I have to keep it together today, my last day?
The problem is that now I'm paying the price. I welled up a couple times today, and I was so glad that I didn't completely LOSE IT, that I was kind of excited...until I cleaned up the remainder of my desk.
On my drive to meet my husband at one of our favorite restaurants, Los Tequilas, I had lost my appetite. My stomach hurt, and my heart ached a little...then I knew that the price I paid for not losing it today was a bottle that's still going to overflow, but now it will overflow at an unexpected place. For this moment, I'll put a cork in it. I haven't read most of the letters that I got today. I'll wait until this weekend, when maybe I can handle it. I hate loss, but each time it makes me stronger--how dare it!!
Before I sign off, I must say that the fifth graders made my day by writing me a Haiku...oh, yes...you rock...we had so much fun with Haiku, I'm so happy that one of my last memories of them has a Haiku attached to it. Until tomorrow, I'm still an Irwin Rocket. I'll deal with tomorrow tomorrow!!
The problem is that now I'm paying the price. I welled up a couple times today, and I was so glad that I didn't completely LOSE IT, that I was kind of excited...until I cleaned up the remainder of my desk.
On my drive to meet my husband at one of our favorite restaurants, Los Tequilas, I had lost my appetite. My stomach hurt, and my heart ached a little...then I knew that the price I paid for not losing it today was a bottle that's still going to overflow, but now it will overflow at an unexpected place. For this moment, I'll put a cork in it. I haven't read most of the letters that I got today. I'll wait until this weekend, when maybe I can handle it. I hate loss, but each time it makes me stronger--how dare it!!
Before I sign off, I must say that the fifth graders made my day by writing me a Haiku...oh, yes...you rock...we had so much fun with Haiku, I'm so happy that one of my last memories of them has a Haiku attached to it. Until tomorrow, I'm still an Irwin Rocket. I'll deal with tomorrow tomorrow!!
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Denial...it ain't a river in Egypt
On the eve of my last Elementary Intern experience, I realize that I warped the meaning of the superintendent's holiday break message. She said to take time off to rejuvenate and ramp up for the spring. As I sit here typing, I realize that I may have though I was doing just that, but in reality, I was in a state of denial. By not thinking about the school I'm leaving or the school I'm going to, I robbed myself of the healthy reflection in which I could have been engaged.
Instead, I will go to school tomorrow, with a lump in my throat, that I want to keep down, but am afraid I won't be able to. When I see the Kindergartners walking by in the hall, I will want to scoop them up instead of just waving. I want to stay, but I must go, and I think the thing that bothers me more than I'd like to admit is that they will have impressed my heart more than I will have theirs. In a week's time as they continue their routines, I will be but a memory. Sure, there are a few kids who will miss me more because we connected for some reason, but by and large, I think I'm the one with a heavier heart. They'll move on, and I won't get to be a part of it.
I will miss the spirit of this building, too. A staff tap-dancing on the upper edge of excellence. A staff who takes students as they are, no matter their background. A staff committed to these children and their own professional growth. I could only wish to lead such a building. Before long, this building will see the top spot in their district, and it will have been a result of their unweilding focus on improving, their leadership, and their tenacity. Kudos, Irwin! I will miss you...
As a period to a sentence, I end with the fifth graders in mind, for whom only a breaking-the-rules kind of Haiku seems appropriate:
Instead, I will go to school tomorrow, with a lump in my throat, that I want to keep down, but am afraid I won't be able to. When I see the Kindergartners walking by in the hall, I will want to scoop them up instead of just waving. I want to stay, but I must go, and I think the thing that bothers me more than I'd like to admit is that they will have impressed my heart more than I will have theirs. In a week's time as they continue their routines, I will be but a memory. Sure, there are a few kids who will miss me more because we connected for some reason, but by and large, I think I'm the one with a heavier heart. They'll move on, and I won't get to be a part of it.
I will miss the spirit of this building, too. A staff tap-dancing on the upper edge of excellence. A staff who takes students as they are, no matter their background. A staff committed to these children and their own professional growth. I could only wish to lead such a building. Before long, this building will see the top spot in their district, and it will have been a result of their unweilding focus on improving, their leadership, and their tenacity. Kudos, Irwin! I will miss you...
As a period to a sentence, I end with the fifth graders in mind, for whom only a breaking-the-rules kind of Haiku seems appropriate:
Irwin is the best
Stay focused on your learning
Accept nothing less
...sounds like the words shouted at Blastoff...it must mean the message is already internalized. So, tomorrow will come, like it or not. I hope to find the peace to steady myself for the huge learning curve I'm about to board; and savor the memories of the learning curve I'm carrying with me
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
The Vortex that is Middle School
With angst in my heart, and "old records" playing in my head, I wandered through the sea of tables in various stages of eating...yesterday was my first partial day at the middle school where I will serve the remainder of my Internship. To get my feet wet, I was asked to be in the lunchroom for the remainder of the 7th grade lunch period. I really did have to try to look calm while fighting the demons in my head. Do I think ill of middle schoolers, or for that matter 7th graders? NO. The demons lurk from my own impish childhood in which middle school was such a flurry of oh-my-gosh-I-don't-know-what-to-say-think-or-do, that I literally had an internal pseudo-panic going on.
To compound the issue, my year of teaching middle school overseas came back to haunt me...that place where I was culturally less aware than I should have been...that place where I started on the wrong foot because I didn't know differently (it was my 3rd year teaching)...that place where students called me what they wanted (to my face) thinking I wouldn't understand what they were saying.
It was all rushing back to me, so I had to act quickly so as not to make a complete idiot of myself to these students who do not know the depth of my passion or my commitment to doing what's best for them if only for their dignity and humanity.
My inner adult sat my inner child down for a heart-to-heart. The adult said, firstly, you are one now. Secondly, they can't hurt you anymore unless you let them. Thirdly, these are different, more sophisticated students, and I am a different and more sophisticated educator. I decided to default to what I know how to do and that's meet people at their eyes. As I walked I smiled and met students's eyes. Not only did I see wonder, but openness. I even saw a former first grade student of mine, and a former 5th grade one from the previous year. All of a sudden,I realized, I was the one with the wall up and that if I hoped to have any chance with these students, I needed to return to the same vulnerability that they may have with me one on one.
Today, I got to watch the students leave for the day. Again, I met their eyes and watched the principal interact with them, and realized that this trip is going to be o.k. I will default to what I know about kids and how I connect with them, and it will be o.k. I can lay the demons to rest now, because I have the opportunity before me to assist others in remember what it's like and to not ever let school be an emotionally unsafe place.
To compound the issue, my year of teaching middle school overseas came back to haunt me...that place where I was culturally less aware than I should have been...that place where I started on the wrong foot because I didn't know differently (it was my 3rd year teaching)...that place where students called me what they wanted (to my face) thinking I wouldn't understand what they were saying.
It was all rushing back to me, so I had to act quickly so as not to make a complete idiot of myself to these students who do not know the depth of my passion or my commitment to doing what's best for them if only for their dignity and humanity.
My inner adult sat my inner child down for a heart-to-heart. The adult said, firstly, you are one now. Secondly, they can't hurt you anymore unless you let them. Thirdly, these are different, more sophisticated students, and I am a different and more sophisticated educator. I decided to default to what I know how to do and that's meet people at their eyes. As I walked I smiled and met students's eyes. Not only did I see wonder, but openness. I even saw a former first grade student of mine, and a former 5th grade one from the previous year. All of a sudden,I realized, I was the one with the wall up and that if I hoped to have any chance with these students, I needed to return to the same vulnerability that they may have with me one on one.
Today, I got to watch the students leave for the day. Again, I met their eyes and watched the principal interact with them, and realized that this trip is going to be o.k. I will default to what I know about kids and how I connect with them, and it will be o.k. I can lay the demons to rest now, because I have the opportunity before me to assist others in remember what it's like and to not ever let school be an emotionally unsafe place.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Ye Hare 'n Hound Inn
Frosty windowpanes, just like you see in the movies. Soft jazz floating among the rafters. A quiet street with lake Chautauqua darkly beckoning. A picture disturbed by a waft of overpowering cologne. It snapped me into the reality of what had been happening around us at this quaint and cozy English-Inn-replica.
As soon as we walked in, there were a few looks. These were not just looks of curiosity. They felt like looks of do-you-belong-here? This fine eating establishment is located in Bemus Point, New York. It was a bit of a quiet kind of town that probably thrives when there isn't a foot of snow on the ground. The service was great, but the voices from the tables around carried. Maybe all these people knew each other in passing. Maybe these people saw us pull up in an oversized work van from Indiana. Or maybe our threads didn't meet approval...the fact that I was wearing a $2.80 leopard print shirt under a CAbi jacket was not lost on me. Maybe, just maybe, I was being self-conscious...not likely, since it would take more than entering a restaurant to make me self-conscious.
The girl behind my husband seemed to be trying to check me out to see if I passed an unspoken standard. She was well put together, but not over the top. I quickly dismissed any looks I was getting.
There were two tables of four behind us, though. All looked like they could be old money...retired, comfortable. One table was just louder than I would expect at such an establishment. They didn't talk about much of import other than sharing stories of their collective pasts and so and so's illness, etcetera. The second table was the one I take the most issue with....and even that's an overstatement. I should just say, they caused me to pause and reflect briefly on a growing malcontent of mine.
The larger man at this table, who we humorously renamed "The Judge" (dig into your old Rodney Dangerfield movies), was pontificating about the current political scene. I quickly dismissed what he said, because it seems his audience was not the other three at his table, but anyone who would listen.
I stopped listening as I realized we are all on a continuum of sorts, be it intellectually, monetarily, or socially. Everyone is in someone else's ivory tower and it's easy for us to cast stones at those who have more than we...however when do we consider giving up some of what we have in order to assist someone lower on the continuum? I don't suppose this fellow would give up his status in order to allow someone else to reach an equivalent status. I also wonder who I'll tick off when I suggest that we have our own caste system right here in this country, but no one wants to claim that they are the privileged class. It's always someone higher than they.
Instead of spewing on so everyone can hear, why don't we do something about it? Why don't we enlighten ourselves, facilitate others' growth, and keep it going. I know, I know, I'm an idealist. Yes, and an optimist, too. If we don't do something now, though, maybe our democracy won't withstand the pressure building from within the walls of this country. Before pointing a finger at others, let's look at the three fingers pointing back at ourselves, so that we can move forward more intelligently.
Regardless of the bloviating surrounding us and the pressure cooker I feel we live in currently in this country, last night it was just my hubby and me. Man and wife. Engineer and Educator--enjoying each other, in the moment, without regard to the problems of the world. It is something I hope to continue to do for a very, very, very long time.
As soon as we walked in, there were a few looks. These were not just looks of curiosity. They felt like looks of do-you-belong-here? This fine eating establishment is located in Bemus Point, New York. It was a bit of a quiet kind of town that probably thrives when there isn't a foot of snow on the ground. The service was great, but the voices from the tables around carried. Maybe all these people knew each other in passing. Maybe these people saw us pull up in an oversized work van from Indiana. Or maybe our threads didn't meet approval...the fact that I was wearing a $2.80 leopard print shirt under a CAbi jacket was not lost on me. Maybe, just maybe, I was being self-conscious...not likely, since it would take more than entering a restaurant to make me self-conscious.
The girl behind my husband seemed to be trying to check me out to see if I passed an unspoken standard. She was well put together, but not over the top. I quickly dismissed any looks I was getting.
There were two tables of four behind us, though. All looked like they could be old money...retired, comfortable. One table was just louder than I would expect at such an establishment. They didn't talk about much of import other than sharing stories of their collective pasts and so and so's illness, etcetera. The second table was the one I take the most issue with....and even that's an overstatement. I should just say, they caused me to pause and reflect briefly on a growing malcontent of mine.
The larger man at this table, who we humorously renamed "The Judge" (dig into your old Rodney Dangerfield movies), was pontificating about the current political scene. I quickly dismissed what he said, because it seems his audience was not the other three at his table, but anyone who would listen.
I stopped listening as I realized we are all on a continuum of sorts, be it intellectually, monetarily, or socially. Everyone is in someone else's ivory tower and it's easy for us to cast stones at those who have more than we...however when do we consider giving up some of what we have in order to assist someone lower on the continuum? I don't suppose this fellow would give up his status in order to allow someone else to reach an equivalent status. I also wonder who I'll tick off when I suggest that we have our own caste system right here in this country, but no one wants to claim that they are the privileged class. It's always someone higher than they.
Instead of spewing on so everyone can hear, why don't we do something about it? Why don't we enlighten ourselves, facilitate others' growth, and keep it going. I know, I know, I'm an idealist. Yes, and an optimist, too. If we don't do something now, though, maybe our democracy won't withstand the pressure building from within the walls of this country. Before pointing a finger at others, let's look at the three fingers pointing back at ourselves, so that we can move forward more intelligently.
Regardless of the bloviating surrounding us and the pressure cooker I feel we live in currently in this country, last night it was just my hubby and me. Man and wife. Engineer and Educator--enjoying each other, in the moment, without regard to the problems of the world. It is something I hope to continue to do for a very, very, very long time.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Money Pit II (aka "The Flip") Revisited
The trucks barrel outside our hotel room window, as the sun is making its way down the other end of the freeway. It's cold, but I'm free.
I'd like to say that I came to Erie, Pennsylvania with my husband, to bask in the glory of our second year of marriage; to provide him the companionship he might have missed on this business trip, or to add yet another city to the list of places I've explored. If I admitted to any of those, I'd be stretching the truth. Though, I do love my husband and enjoy keeping him company, the fact of the matter is, if I'm here with him, I'm not in Ft. Wayne having to deal with the flip. It's priceless.
I would hate for anyone to get the wrong idea, but let's face it...my friends, and equally importantly my superiors are getting sick of hearing about this house. As gorgeous as it turned out, we still have to sell the thing, which means buying the legal paperwork, putting a sign out into the yard and constantly worrying that someone will pick now to break into it. We're on the home stretch here....but I want it sold NOW. The secretary at the school where I'm currently working assures me that the right buyer is just waiting for it. I hope she's right, but here are some things I've learned through the whole two-year-and-I'm-not-telling-how-many-months project:
1. Don't wish "they'd just put a sign out front and sell the darn thing."
2. If they do put a sign out selling the darn thing DON'T BUY IT!!
3. Plan ahead. If you even think you'll be putting yourself through a masters or getting married, reconsider.
4. Don't underestimate the work it takes
5. Don't underestimate the financial faux pas's that will occur along the way
6. Do learn as much as you can about your "partner in crime," like what he likes and is capable of doing...this will come in handy later.
7. When in doubt, ask for help from as many capable others as possible.
8. Do your homework early on.
9. Be nice to the people at Neighborhood Code Enforcement
10. Fix any outdoor atrocities first as your neighbors will appreciate (and support you) for it.
I've been asked if I will ever do this again. Well, that's a loaded question. I would absolutely do it again if I didn't have such a demanding job that I loved so much, and if my husband didn't care if I took on the responsibility myself (versus encumbering him...good planning on my part, heh heh.) The demolition can't be beat...and I love painting, and making it pretty, so all the rest can be hired out.
But for now, I am excused from my responsibilities there, so that I can catch up on other things that I'd like to continue to keep up on here.
I'd like to say that I came to Erie, Pennsylvania with my husband, to bask in the glory of our second year of marriage; to provide him the companionship he might have missed on this business trip, or to add yet another city to the list of places I've explored. If I admitted to any of those, I'd be stretching the truth. Though, I do love my husband and enjoy keeping him company, the fact of the matter is, if I'm here with him, I'm not in Ft. Wayne having to deal with the flip. It's priceless.
I would hate for anyone to get the wrong idea, but let's face it...my friends, and equally importantly my superiors are getting sick of hearing about this house. As gorgeous as it turned out, we still have to sell the thing, which means buying the legal paperwork, putting a sign out into the yard and constantly worrying that someone will pick now to break into it. We're on the home stretch here....but I want it sold NOW. The secretary at the school where I'm currently working assures me that the right buyer is just waiting for it. I hope she's right, but here are some things I've learned through the whole two-year-and-I'm-not-telling-how-many-months project:
1. Don't wish "they'd just put a sign out front and sell the darn thing."
2. If they do put a sign out selling the darn thing DON'T BUY IT!!
3. Plan ahead. If you even think you'll be putting yourself through a masters or getting married, reconsider.
4. Don't underestimate the work it takes
5. Don't underestimate the financial faux pas's that will occur along the way
6. Do learn as much as you can about your "partner in crime," like what he likes and is capable of doing...this will come in handy later.
7. When in doubt, ask for help from as many capable others as possible.
8. Do your homework early on.
9. Be nice to the people at Neighborhood Code Enforcement
10. Fix any outdoor atrocities first as your neighbors will appreciate (and support you) for it.
I've been asked if I will ever do this again. Well, that's a loaded question. I would absolutely do it again if I didn't have such a demanding job that I loved so much, and if my husband didn't care if I took on the responsibility myself (versus encumbering him...good planning on my part, heh heh.) The demolition can't be beat...and I love painting, and making it pretty, so all the rest can be hired out.
But for now, I am excused from my responsibilities there, so that I can catch up on other things that I'd like to continue to keep up on here.
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