Confession: I have been reading for fun these days. So strange and wonderful. Among a few well written classroom management books, and following all the hubub I heard from my students about The Hunger Games and its movie whilst I was student teaching, I decided I'd better at least know what the series is all about. I blew through the first book, and after receiving the other two by mail last week (thanks Sean and Amazon!), I am finished with the second and and three-quarters finished with the third. I want to discuss it with someone who understands and perhaps even shares my frustration with the way female characters are portrayed in writing, and especially in young adult fiction. Whit, you may be my only hope! Short version of discussion: Katniss Everdeen is an improvement upon Bella Swan (Blech. I can't even believe I mentioned that name on my blog. I've hit a low point indeed), but that ain't saying much. Any takers?

Can't sleep, so I've been cruising blogs for a few hours. Man, there are some good people out there just living life and trying to be happy despite the chaos life brings. I love and admire people like that, and I aspire to do likewise. There is too much empty complaining in the world, and I avoid inviting that negativity in like the plague. Honesty I can take and do invite, and venting with a purpose can be healthy, but no one reads blame, self pity, or negativity for fun or pleasure. Not all parts of life are good, granted, but God is, and he plants happy seeds all over; we just have to look for them and appreciate, and that's the good I'm seeing in the blogland I care to peruse in the early morning hours. I feel overwhelmed with blessings. I am! The heavens have opened and jobs are pouring out of the sky, or so it seems. I procured a summer job last week, and two days ago, my first real teaching position was offered to me--a momentous occasion indeed. I didn't know for sure how the first interview went. It felt good; I was comfortable, relaxed, open, and frank, and I think that worried me a little afterward. But, the phone call for a second interview, a guest lesson, came and I prepared confidently to show my stuff, but not to showboat. I'm not like that. What you see is what you get. Take it or leave it, and they took. At least two others also guest taught that same day; I saw and heard a tiny part of one lesson, but I felt no despair or fear for my own lesson because I was prepared and felt good about my skills and abilities. Still, I didn't know for sure. So, when the phone call came Tuesday, late morning, I was so so happy and a little surprised. I've learned not to hold on to what I want so tightly, so to let God wedge his way in a little more, and this is what it brings: contentment. He knows his stuff, and I trust Him completely, come what may. So, I'm a teacher now, or soon to be. An insomniac teacher who dreamt, or nightmared, rather, last night about my former seventh graders and some unthinkably terrible classroom management issues. Yuck. So glad it was just a dream with some very real elements and people. But that is what woke me. I think more than anything that dream identifies my desire to be an incredible teacher and to influence my students for good, and also my innate fear of failure to fulfill my most dear goals and purposes. I won't fail, though. I know this now, and the reason I know is that the only way to fail is to give up trying to succeed. If I never stop trying, I will always succeed. God has shown me that and held my hand throughout my whole journey in this "temporary stay", to use my brother's words. Life is good. It is an honor to be alive and to absorb all I can while I'm here. I shan't take life for granted or waste it by sharing or absorbing negativity. I am a sieve-sponge, a sponge-sieve, and I'll keep-share what's worth keeping, sharing.

Jobby Quest

When you are finished with your student teaching, and all the dust from completing your senior project has settled, you may find yourself asking, "Now, what do I do with my life?"

If you do find yourself doing all of these things and asking that particular question, the answer is, "Get a job." Do not be daunted by the shockingly low number of postings on your local school district's website. Instead, throw caution to the wind, apply for all ten, and then prepare yourself to receive 10 rejections with nary a request for an interview. And, when yet another listing pops up, you definitely should apply again. And please wait patiently for a call or email. When your friend hooks you up and you get an interview at his school OUTSIDE of said district, you go and you ROCK it so they'll be thirsty for more, and then when they call and ask if you'd be willing to teach a guest lesson this coming Monday afternoon, you say, "Hells yes!" (but not really), and you plan the sickest darn 20 minute English lesson this side of the Great Wall. Then you sit back, clean your house, and make your sons eggie(s)-in-the-basket for breakfast while you wait for your quest to be fulfilled. That's what YOU do.

Reach 'em and teach 'em

This semi-cheesy thought about teaching came to me in the shower this morning: if you can reach them here (the heart) you can teach them here (the brain).

P.S. I just googled this phrase. I am so unoriginal :).

Two rocks and a hard place

When I summitted Timp two years ago, I pocketed a small, rectangular piece of shale with a black thumb print of imbedded obsidian as a tangible reminder of the daunting task I'd just faced and conquered. I often turn this rock over and over in my hand, memorizing its sharp angles and smoothing the trilobite-like spot, while projecting myself back up to that windy, surprisingly flat, and awesomely spectacular 360 degree viewpoint. I remember how satisfying that moment felt, and how much planning, work, and determination is represented in that short 20 minute respite at the top of my little valley home.

A week ago, as a gift from a Vulcan eyebrowed, impish, goblin-obsessed, and yet charming 7th grade creative writing student, I was given a smoothly rounded, green-tinged stone as a going away present. At first, I was taken aback (how does one best respond to receiving a rock as a gift?), but ever since, I have felt that no other gift could be quite as fitting or nearly as meaningful, for I've conquered another seemingly daunting task. Another task that I had put my all into achieving. Another that scared me crapless. Another that I half believed I'd never accomplish. Another that I'd almost let conquer me. I can take this gift and, in studying it, project myself into my classroom on my last day, or my best day, or my worst day teaching, and I can remember all 196 of the best reasons for wanting to become an English teacher.

Both situations, attempting to summitt Timp and facing up to 120 seventh graders a day, made me feel extremely vulnerable and uncomfortable. They were both hard places to be, but these two rocks, representatives of two seemingly insurmountable tasks, are also two undeniable and concrete reminders of the very person who helped me to overcome them.

Helaman 5:12
Remember, remember that it is upon the ROCK of our redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men [and women] build they cannot fall.

Every task I face is another opportunity to build a stronger foundation on my Redeemer, Savior, and Brother, Jesus Christ. When the gulf of misery and endless wo comes calling, and it presently has me on speed dial in the form of emails containing the dreaded words "The position has been filled", I can remember who's got my back and take comfort in knowing that everything will work out as it is meant to in the end.

Tomorrow is my last day as head teacher. On Monday, when the new term begins, my cooperating teacher will assume his rightful position as head teacher. My feelings about this transition are mixed. These last few weeks have been quite taxing, classroom management being the top contender to blame for my weariness. I have been assured though, that February and March are extremely difficult teaching months and that coupled with a long stretch of school with no break, have made me physically ready to wrap up my student teaching days. Emotionally, I don't really know how to prepare for the turn over. I have honestly put my heart and soul into this experience, and therefore, I have no regrets. I am very grateful for the infinite lessons I have learned, and I want to give myself a little record of the wisdom I have acquired over the last three months, so here goes number one on my list. 1. Little did I know that teaching jr. high would force me to face and work through much of the ugliness and anxiety I experienced when I was a jr. high and high school student. This whole experience has helped me to make peace with my demons, and on this side, I feel much like a Phoenix emerging from the flames--I am more free and whole, and as a result of my former emotional pain, I have greater empathy and understanding for my students and the challenges they are facing in their young lives. I can honestly claim a tremendous victory by having chosen to triumph over, rather than succumb to, one of my greatest weaknesses: fear of failure. Are there things I could have improved upon as a student teacher? Yes. Of course. But I did my best, and I have other even more important obligations to attend to--my family being the most important of all--and therefore, there are limitations to what I can do. I gave my best every day of my student teaching experience, and that is what matters. This time, I choose not to beat myself up for what I could have done. Instead, I can revel in my accomplishment and give my Heavenly Father and his son Jesus Christ the credit for nudging me forward, and often times, carrying me through this experience, and a minuscule offering of a mustard seed of faith is all that they required as payment. One of my most challenging students shared a poem with the class today. It is beautiful, and I feel that the author, Mother Teresa, conveys her feelings about what maters most so much more accurately than I can:

Anyway

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you've got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and your God;
It was never between you and them anyway.

What matters most is that God knows I've given my best, and that he, with his infinite love and wisdom, accepts that offering as enough. The hard part is accepting that it really is enough. And that, my friends, is where faith comes in, bringing me back to my focus for the year.

By small and simple means are great things brought to pass. Such as this; such as this.

Seventh grade smack

Sometimes, it is essential to bring the smack down on seventh graders. Not literally, of course, because corporal punishment is frowned upon in the States, and with good reason, too. But other forms of smack, i.e. phone calls and strongly worded, yet professional, emails to parents work wonders when seat changes, stern talking tos, multiple sending outs of the classroom, holding students after class, and sticky noting problem students with surprise questions such as "Does the number 801-555-1234 mean anything to you?" do not yield the promising results you were taught to hope for in college classes such as Classroom Management I. I felt quite disappointed when my efforts to follow such protocol were thwarted, much like Pee Wee Herman did when he found out that there was no basement at the Alamo--and I agree; they just don't teach you the important stuff in school. Lest you think I am daunted by my student teaching experience, well, I'll be honest, there ARE times the daunt of seventh grade is like the black lung--stealthily sneaking up and choking the life out of me--but, don't you fret; I am resuscitated in time by the contagious wit and fun of a satisfyingly wonderful class of little nose goblins, quite soon after, or even during, a full day of daunt. Anyway, lest you think I am daunted, let me assure you that I am not; I have merely awakened to the understanding that teaching seventh grade is a lot like obtaining a job as rattle snake tamer: it is the pure adrenaline rush that keeps you going. I will emerge as victor, if you don't count the fact that they have taken over (and ultimately, won) a large portion of my left ventricle. Truth be known, the smack has been brought down equally on both sides.