Memories...

Since our school did not do a yearbook this year, I made two things: A class yearbook for my homeroom where every student wrote what they dream of becoming one day and a memory and autograph book for all 105 students. Then, we took the classes outside so they could exchange autographs and write in their friends' books. It made me feel good to see the huge group of students surround me waiting for me to sign their memory books and shirts. Several students mentioned the long wait and told me that it was like I was famous because everyone wanted my autograph. I kept saying to myself that infamous was probably a better description!

After the crowd died down and I signed until my fingers ached, something magical happened. It may not appear so magical to most people, but I got it. One student- for whom the word "challenging" does not even accurately describe- came and stood by me. He didn't say anything at first. He just stood right by my side, staring out at the other students milling around and chatting nonstop.

Let me stop here to give some background information. This student in particular has gotten into trouble with probably 85-90% of our staff this year. He is oppositional, defiant, rude, sarcastic, emotionally detached, and just all-around pretty odd. Because of the severity of his antics ALL YEAR, he was the first and only student that I know of who has ever been formally uninvited to our school's graduation ceremony. But he was probably my favorite student because I understood him. However, a few weeks ago, after talking with one of his parents, I let them know that one more of his antics and he would lose out on Field Day. His dad agreed with the decision because they were fed up as well. A few days before field day, he was back to saying extremely unkind things to others, being rude and disrespectful to his other teachers, and just not listening. He got to my class and tried to continue the defiant behavior. After a while, I instructed him to leave my classroom. He said, "I don't care," and gathered his belongings. However, as he walked out of the door, he looked back at me and our eyes briefly met. In that instant, I read everything. He was so sad and hurt that the one teacher who truly cared about him had put him out. I know he really wanted to apologize, but he also wanted to save face. He desperately wanted me to call him back in and give him another chance, but I could not. Being true to my word, I wrote the behavior up and he lost Field Day activities. He also received two days suspension because of some of his specific actions in the classroom. After returning to school, this was our exchange:

Me: Well, hello. Welcome back. I really missed you.
Student: I didn't miss you. I hate you.
Me: Wow, that is really disappointing to hear because I love you. BUT hate is your own emotion, so I guess I will have to live with that.
Student: You made me lose Field Day!
Me: No, Sweetheart. Your behavior choices made you lose Field Day. You gave me your word that you would behave correctly and you did not. I gave you my word that your consequence would be to lose Field Day. I kept my word to you. So, if keeping my word to you causes you to hate me, then I guess I am good with that. Please have a seat.
Student: Well, I don't hate you. I just dislike you very, very much.
Me: OK. I can live with that too.
Student: Fine. I do not hate you.
Me: I know. Welcome back. Now sit down.

Fast forward to book signing day. He stood next to me, holding that memory book and not speaking.
Me: What do you have there that you are holding onto so tightly?
Student: Oh, this memory book thing. I heard you made it.
Me: I did. I hope you like it. Did you get a lot of signatures?
Student: No, I do not care and I do not want people signing it.
Me: Well that's too bad because I really wanted to sign your book.
Student: Fine. Whatever. I guess you can sign the stupid book.
Me: Oh, great. (I wrote him a note telling him that I believe that he can do such great things in this world.) I hope it means something to you.
Student: I am sure it will mean nothing, but whatever. Bye. (he walked away)

I later noticed him standing near a school wall reading my note to him. He cared. He cared very deeply and did not know how to show it. I worry about him most of all...

Thought of the Day

Purpose in your heart that today will be your best. day. ever.

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!

To Know Better is to Do Better...

Author's Note: The entry below is a repost from 2 years ago. I am returning to it because a new friend challenged me to write down my thoughts daily. I told him that I had started that once, but it fell by the wayside. I failed at it. So what! Thank God we serve a God of second (and even third and fourth) chances! Here, once again, is Day 1. I am so grateful for friends- new and old- who challenge me to move forward and to be the best that God has called me to be. Thanks for coming alongside...

Every Sunday morning, I have a standing chat appointment with a friend. During these conversations, we discuss our ups and downs from the previous week and just provide support and encouragement to each other. Well, today we talked about our vision for the the next five years. Once the visions were spoken, we challenged each other to, with the help of God, take the necessary steps to bring the visions into reality. Sounds simple enough, right?

Well, I realized that I often speak my goals in my mind and never share them with others. Whenever I change my mind or miss the mark, it is okay because it has always just been me, myself and I. However, when I spoke it to someone else, there was an instant feeling of accountability that came over me, as if I HAVE to follow through with it. But I want to take it even further. Time to write it down.

And the LORD answered me, and said, Write the vision, and make [it] plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it.
Habakkuk 2:2 (King James Version)

So here I am, putting it all out here. My immediate goal for this blog is to chronicle my journey over the course of a year. 365 days of being completely transparent, allowing you to see all of me- the good, the bad, and the ugly. I pray that over time, as I begin to come into my own as the woman God has called me to be, there will be something I experience or share that will speak to you as you take your own journey. I am excited to embark upon a process that I think will lead me to places that I have never imagined going. But I know that no matter what the next 365 days bring, I will be stronger, wiser, and much, much closer to my happy... however that is supposed to look.

My prayer is that this time and this process will lead you to your happy as well. See you on the journey!

--Nikki

It has been quite a while since my last post. I have visited the blog many times over the last year. Each time, however, I left thinking that I was either too busy to write or that I had nothing of worth to share with anyone. When I think back over the events of the past year, I have to say that nothing could be further from the truth! I have had so many experiences since I last checked in. Some have been wonderful. Others, not so much. I promise to collect my thoughts and share them. Pop your popcorn, find a comfy seat, and sit down because I promise that some of them are real doozies. I am here. I am back. I have a lot to say, it seems.

"Who Your People?"

I still remember my Aunt Pearl saying the words that caused me to blush down to the tips of my toes. Not only was it embarrassing to hear her nonstandard use of the king's English; but more importantly, she was grilling the boy whom I thought was the embodiment of all things cute, cool and delightfully wonderful in the world.

As I think about it now, the exchange went something like this:

Aunt Pearl: Who are you?
Cutie: My name is Chris, Ma'am.
AP: Chris is not your name. Is that short for Christopher or Christian?
Him: It's short for Christopher, Ma'am.
AP: OK, ChrisTOPHER, what is your last name?
Him: Hamilton, Ma'am.
AP: Christopher Hamilton, who your people?
Him: Well, my mom lives on the North side, but I live with my aunt and uncle. They live over on K Street.
AP: K Street? Oh, over by Mrs. Waddell's house?
Him: Yes, Ma'am. Mrs. Waddell lives two doors down.
AP: OH, in the blue house on the corner?
Him: Yes, ma'am.
AP: Oh, ok. Well, Christopher "Chris" Hamilton, this is MY niece. I am HER Aunt Pearl and you are welcome to stop by to see her sometime if you see my car in the driveway. You got that?
Him: Yes, Ma'am, Miss Pearl. I got it.

Now as I look back on that conversation, I realize a few things about my Aunt Pearl's intentions from that brief exchange. First off, she gleaned far more from that brief exchange than any sit-down conversation full of slick words could ever have told her. For example, she tested his level of respect. Had he been taught to respect his elders by saying yes, no, yes, ma'am, no, ma'am and using proper titles as opposed to saying, yeah, naw, uh-huh, etc.? Second, she found out two very important things about his family: 1. Exactly who they were (If his family was known for being a bunch of fools, Chris would've gotten the boot quickly) and 2. Where to go to handle things if something went awry. Third, by making him use his exact name and stating her name and her relationship with me and then setting clear expectations and boundaries, she let him know that I am someone important whose "people" hold in high regard and whose "people" have higher expectations for. In other words, she let him know that I was not someone he was free to trifle with.

How did we get so far removed from teaching young people to respect their elders? Even more disturbing to me is how we have gotten so far away from setting high standards and EXPECTING our young people to reach those standards of behavior. As an educator, I see all too often a generation of youngsters who do not respect authority, elders, or even themselves. How do we reclaim what some have called 'a lost generation'? How do we rise up and become the elders like my Aunt Pearl who made expectations clear and who, with a short interaction, was able to communicate to the world- me included- that I was valuable and that I belonged to someone who loved me enough to apply a covering over my life? We need more Aunt Pearls. Heck, we need to BECOME the Aunt Pearls of this generation. But how do we do this? Sound off somebody!

The Dichotomy of Me (Or, Learning To Live)

I love to sit silently and watch my children play. There really is nothing like listening to their squeals of delight and the inflection in their voices as they float from moment to moment, excited about each new discovery life sends their way. As they sing and dance to their made-up songs about the butterfly that just landed on a flower, I imagine them hearing the melodies of life and the rhythm created by each heartbeat, breath, voice, footstep, sight and sound. Together, these small sounds and moments- though not much on their own- come together to create quite the symphony for a child. Wow. As I watch them, I sometimes notice the dichotomy their freedom creates within me, the cognitive dissonance that often runs through me. I know it sounds crazy, but it is there. As delightful as watching them is for me, I also sometimes catch the feeling of jealousy creep up into the darkest recesses of my mind. Jealousy. I admit here and now that I am sometimes jealous of my children's ability to just detach themselves from any and everything and be able to live freely, taking each moment as it comes. Their looks of wide-eyed wonder as they greet each new sight and sound can only be compared to discovering a cold fountain to drink from on a hot, Texas summer day. It is as if those new discoveries are the very lifeblood that keeps them going. They move from moment to moment like that, and I listen really hard, trying to hear that melody again- or at least remember when I stopped hearing.

How does one regain the ability to live in the moment? When do we, as adults, cross that silent threshold where we forget to truly LIVE? We get so caught up in all the business of life that we forget to live it. I am in that place right now. I have been on Spring Break for the past week. Instead of just enjoying each moment as it comes, I have been consumed with solving every problem under the sun or ANTICIPATING problems and then solving those. I have focused on school work for next week, the remainder of the year, NEXT school year, medical issues, making sure all of my financial ducks are in a row in case anything ever happens to me, making sure of so many things... And at the end of the day, what does it all even matter? Tomorrow is not promised to anyone anyway. Yes, as a responsible parent, especially as a SINGLE parent raising small children, it is very important for me to have everything set should anything ever happen to me. However, the rest of it?

How backwards am I?!! Here I am, thinking about and planning for my death before I have even started to LIVE.