Find Your Passion

When I was five years old, I wanted to be a veterinarian. Well, that is until I saw Dr. McGruder stick his gloved finger into the dog's rear end. At that moment, my desire to become a real-life Dr. Doolittle came to a screeching halt. There was no way I was going to stick my finger up a dog's butt! Years later, I found myself telling people that I wanted to be a biomedical engineer. Actually, the engineer part is what my Grandmother gently and repeatedly told me that I was going to be. The biomedical part came much later as I made an attempt to make my grandmother's dream for me something closer to my own. After all, a biomedical engineer had to be much cooler than the geeky guys and gals running around with the pocket protectors and pens hanging out of their pockets, right?

Fast forward thirty years. No, I am not a biomedical engineer. In fact, I am in a field that I NEVER even considered as a child. Teaching? Pshaw! I didn't even like kids and I knew teachers did not make any "real" money, so teaching never entered my mind. No way, no how!

For several of the past school years, I have created a binder in which each student has a page dedicated to only them. On this page, they share what they hope to become when they grow up and their reasons why. Today was no exception. Prior to setting them free to write, the children and I had a discussion about our dreams and finding things we are passionate about. In each class, our conversations yielded something I did not realize. It didn't matter if the student came from The United States or Vietnam, Guatemala or Czechoslovakia, India or Ethiopia. Lots of students were just like I was- planning to follow some other person's dreams for their lives.

Here is an interesting exchange I had with one child:

Student: Well, my parents told me that I have to be a lawyer, but I hate the thought of doing that job.
Me: Okay. So what do you think you might want to become one day?
Student: A lawyer.
Me: Why would you become a lawyer if the job is something you HATE the thought of?
Student: Because that is what my parents want me to be.
Me: I see. Let's have a hypothetical situation. If a career field in law was not available to you, what would YOU like to do?
Student: (looking totally bewildered) I don't understand your question.
Me: If money were not an issue and parents' wishes were not an issue, what would you like to become as an adult?
Student: Well, I never really thought about it. I just figured I would be a lawyer because that is what my parents said.
Me: (to the entire class) Boys and girls, how many of you are in this same situation? (About 5 other hands go up.) Hmmm, let's discuss this. The world, My Dears, is full of people who walk around miserable, hating their jobs, their coworkers, their families, and their lives because they accepted someone else's dream for their lives instead of finding what it is they were really born to do. Life is way too short to be miserable every single day. You then get to the end of your life and find that you did nothing you wanted to do. So find that thing that, when you are alone in front of the mirror, you find yourself acting out. Do you dance? Do you sing? Do you practice jokes? Do you dream of speaking in front of a crowd, defending some person in court? Perhaps you pretend to do surgery on the bar of soap. What do you spend the most time dreaming about, whether you share those dreams with anyone else or not? THAT is the thing you are most passionate about.

So, just like those young minds today, I ask you the same question. What do YOU dream about when you are alone? What do you imagine yourself doing when you are in front of that mirror? Are you living THAT dream or one a loved one or society chose FOR you? More importantly, are you HAPPY? You see, life is too short to live it in misery. There is something to be said about loving what you do. If you truly love what you do, great! You found it, and no bad day that comes along while you do it will stop you from going back to it tomorrow. If, on the other hand, you are like the person I described before- miserable and hating your life, resenting everything and everyone else- then you have some soul-searching to do and some changes to make. If you really want to, of course. Your life, your happiness is all up to you today, so get started. I certainly believe in you, and God does too!

Moving On

Well, it is official! I will be moving up to fifth grade with my students next year. In order to do so, I had to take another certification exam which would allow me to teach all the way up to 8th grade. I took it a week ago and got my results Tuesday morning.

So, now that I have all of the paperwork side of it completed, I am on my way up. It's so funny, though, because my partner teacher and I had been threatening the kids by saying, "If you guys don't straighten up, one of us will be moving to 5th grade to make sure you get it together." Since my partner teacher and I are so much alike, to the kids, neither of the choices was better than the other. Both would mean they weren't getting an inch of wiggle room. It was so funny though, when one boy raised his hand all innocently and asked, "Couldn't Mrs. R move up with us instead?" Oh, my goodness. I HOWLED!!!

See, Mrs. R is also a partner teacher with us who teaches the Science. I love me some her because she is such a trip to me. We often tease her about being the sit-around-the-campfire-and-hold-hands-while-singing-Kumbaya-and-hugging-a-tree kind of person. Actually, she really isn't, but it's funny to say it anyway. She just looks at my other partner teacher and me, shakes her head, and walks away because she thinks we're completely crazy, I'm sure! Anyway, Mrs. R is the really loving part of our trio who may, for example, explain to the kids that it's not a healthful choice to lean back in your seat because you might fall, thereby causing yourself to suffer a concussion or worse. Of course, she then lovingly explains to them what a concussion is and why they really don't want one. I, on the other hand, take a sliiiiightly different approach: "Boy, if you fall back in that chair and crack your head open, you are NOT going to the nurse!" Either way, the chair legs come down.

When I finally told them that I would be moving, most cheered, but I could see a few who were not quite so giddy.

I love it! See, I already knew that a few were going to be shell-shocked. You know the ones. Those kids who make it a point to start the year off very slowly so the new teacher won't know exactly WHAT they know, allowing them to skate along for a while. Humph! No skating for them! They are going to have to hit the ground running because I already know what they know since I taught them in the first place.

Anyway, I don't know how I am going to handle the move. My partner teacher and I (the one just like me) are sooooo much alike that we think and say the exact same things at the exact same time. We always know what the other person is thinking and coming to work is a PAR-TY! Our students honestly don't know who is "crazier". They enjoy class (although they work their butts off) and, I believe, learn better because of it.

Having said that, I am moving to a team that is quite different from my current team. I lead a very relaxed classroom that is filled with laughter, talking, and lots of hands-on activities. Where I'm going, I think it's a little more structured, formal, and just-- well, different! Besides, the leader of that pack and I have previously had very strong words, so this should be interesting. I'll keep you posted on that one because sparks are SURE to fly.

Spring Break

I'm a really good teacher. I've said that many times before, I know.

But I am so glad to be on Spring Break.

I love my job. I love my students. I love the smell of a school. I love the cacophony of sounds. I love interacting with my peers. I love wearing the various hats I'm required to wear each day. No two days are the same and I love that about my profession.

Sometimes, though, it is all just too much and I need to get away to refresh and to refill my internal bucket that has to give so much that it often runs empty. I need a break from everything I love about my profession. The kids, the smells, the sounds, the peers, the hats. It. is. all. just. too. much. sometimes. (I probably shouldn't admit that, huh?)

Although quite wonderful, teaching is an increasingly difficult profession to last in. That is, if you really pour your all into it. I know people often hear of teachers who enter the profession lacking basic morals in addition to basic grammatical, spelling, and social skills. But for teachers who pour their hearts and souls into the students entrusted to them, teaching can be physically and emotionally draining. More and more often, students enter our schools lacking social and basic readiness skills. More and more often the parents who send such kids seem to be increasingly detached. As a result, a significant increase in teacher workload occurs. Not only do we teach Little Johnny or Little Lucy to read, write, and do arithmetic (the easy part), but we also end up being the keepers of little souls.

I am still surprised by the number of kids who reach my classroom door desperate for attention and validation and... love. I know part of it is just a natural part of child development. But for some, the need goes far beyond that.

Every year, there seems to be at least one student (some years way more than that) who does not have the basic level of Maslow's hierarchy of needs met. They show up at school the first week wearing the same shirt and pants every day. Or they show up without a lunch or lunch money every day, yet the application for free and reduced lunch is never returned from home. These are the kiddos who show up at school each day without basic materials needed for learning. These are the kids who wake up at 5:00 am so they can get breakfast and clothing ready for their siblings and themselves before seeing those siblings off to school because no adult showed up at home to see about them. These are the kids who are sleepy at school because they fled with their families in the middle of the night from a parent's abusive boyfriend or girlfriend. These are the kids who know their only meals for the day are the breakfast and lunch they will get at school since there is no food at home. These are the kids who take off their socks in class because their teacher looked down and noticed the holes in the dingy socks that reached far above their tattered shoes. These are the kids who may have a parent or family member at home, but they are so lost in their own despondency that they rarely utter a word to their children.

And this is in the suburbs.

Good teachers are the ones who stretch their family's already tight budgets to buy several additional sets of school supplies in anticipation of the students who will inevitably show up without them. Good teachers scour consignment shops as well as major stores during the winter and summer months in search of new or like-new clothing and shoes for the child/ren who show up without appropriate clothing for the seasons. Good teachers devise a plan to send clothes home in the backpacks, an outfit a day, until said child/ren have them all. Good teachers buy hygiene kits ahead of time to meet the needs of the kids who will show up without a bath and with uncombed hair. Good teachers stock up on crackers and trail mix and other non perishable items for students who come to school hungry or will go home to a hungry house. Good teachers have the school counselor on speed dial or email favorites to address any issues that crop up from day to day. Instead of visiting the lounge, many good teachers eat with their kids to keep their fingers on the pulse of the class, making mental notes of the kids who need extra attention.

Good teachers are now the safe place to run for many kids, a sanctuary as it were. By some grace of God, we are endowed with the ability to mix just the right salve to heal bruises to little hearts and bring encouragement to fledgling dreams. What a responsibility.

What an awesome, terrifying, and utterly draining responsibility.

Teaching is a difficult, yet rewarding profession. The course content, though a huge undertaking in and of itself at times, is really the easy part. Being the nurturer of a young person's dreams makes it so much harder and so much more precarious. How does one do it all and have anything left for their families at home? Why would anyone want to enter and remain in such a profession?

Just ask a good teacher and he or she might tell you that seeing a student open wings they never knew they had makes it all worth it. Or maybe it's when you receive a letter from a student telling you that if it were not for you believing in them, they would never have made it. For some, it may be seeing the face of a child the moment he "gets" a concept. No matter what the particular story is, most good teachers will agree that the reward is in knowing that you, in some small way, at some appointed time, made a profound impact on someone else's life.

And that, my friend, is what it is all about.

So please take every opportunity you find to fill up the bucket of a good teacher you know. This can be done through a kind word, a note of encouragement, a simple compliment... The sky really is the limit. The profession needs it, and our children need it, too.

Finally, someone who gets me

I've always been the kind of person who has had very few friends and several acquaintances. I guess that comes from growing up the way I did. Because of it, I've had trust issues and often find it hard to allow people beyond the mask. I guess the bottom line is that I am afraid of them somehow disappointing me. Maybe it's the other way around as well. Consequently, I find myself drawing back when it seems as if they are getting just a little too close. Just keep it superficial and everything is okay.

Well, something weird has happened. Last spring, my teaching team and I interviewed some teachers to replace two who were leaving (One was moving to a lower grade level and the other decided to stay home with her child). One of the openings would be my direct partner teacher. None of the applicants seemed to be "just right". They seemed nice enough, knowledgeable enough, and friendly enough, but none were quite right... until Tammi showed up. She had come to the interview after just a couple hours of sleep. Her mother-in-law had just passed and she actually left the funeral out of state to make the interview. She was smart and funny and had the right answers to our questions. I think everyone agreed she was a good match until... she mentioned she was the head of the social committee at her last school and enjoyed doing things together after work. (Insert sound of car tires screeching to a halt).

I could feel the other teammates' eyes on me when she said that because I do NOT like to hang out with my coworkers after work. Ummm, no. That's just not my thing. After the interview, the others thought I would immediately eliminate her from consideration, but there was something about her that I liked. A lot.

She did end up getting the job and we have become fast friends. In fact, she and I actually do hang out at work and after work. We immediately clicked, and she is quickly becoming my best friend. Coworkers, administrators, and even students often comment that we are just alike. We say the same things and think the exact same way, which is probably not a good thing since most of the comments we tend to hold in are rude! LOL!!!

I suppose the whole point I'm making here is that it's not good to prejudge people, especially based on our hangups. Had I disqualified her based on mine , I would have missed out on a really good friend and an outstanding partner teacher.

Write the Vision

The Bible instructs us to "write the vision and make it plain." Yes, I understand that it is talking about writing down prophetic visions, but studies show that we are more likely to follow through on our goals if we write them down. Memories are forgotten over time, but when we put our dreams into writing, they become much more than thoughts. They become real, tangible.

For a long time-- much longer than I care to mention-- I've considered writing a book. I am the consummate storyteller. Not a story teller as in liar, but someone who knows how to deliver a good tale. The thing that makes my stories seem so fascinating to people is that they are actually TRUE! I guess truth really is stranger than fiction.

I always thought I'd write non-fiction first. I have thought of chronicling my many years of struggling with infertility, and the events that finally led to me receiving my miracles (in the form of twins). I also thought about writing a book of encouragement for people struggling through it right now. I wanted to use short case studies of the many people I know who are currently going through and/or have gone through their own fertility challenges. I wanted to record the paths they took to either see the fulfillment of their dreams, make the decision to keep trying, or make the painful choice to walk away from treatment and forge a different path. Or I could write a book retelling hilarious (and sometimes shocking) events I witnessed during the time I worked for a local law enforcement agency. And I can't forget the gazillion noteworthy moments that are forever etched into my brain from being an educator. The reality is that I have lots of stories to tell. Still, I often hear myself saying, "Oh, I'll do that someday" and go on about my business. Someday has always seemed a long way off.

Or so I thought.

While I was writing the post about salience yesterday, I had originally recounted an experience I had when we first moved from the city to the suburbs. After typing it, I instantly knew that the story was meant to be the beginning of my book. I am going to write a semi-autobiographical novel. It will be fiction, but based upon true events.

I am writing the vision. I am the Thinking Princess, and I am going to write a novel. I am going to write a novel. I AM GOING TO WRITE A NOVEL. My someday begins today.