One Word at a Time

Where did I learn to keep my cool? My blood runs hot - I can thank my Italian Nonni for raising me in that way. My voice is strong - I can thank my parents for setting the expectation that I use my voice for good. My passion lives deep - I can thank my grandparents, my parents, my brother for sharing their passions with me. So where did I learn to keep my cool? From the soccer field, where losing your cool resulted in fouls, poor choices, and possible penalties. From staff meetings, where teachers lost their cool and butted heads, all for the good of the children, and the principal moderated and facilitated. From class, where students say things they don't mean, and you know reacting will just make the problem worse, so you stay on your path. Learning to keep my cool didn't happen overnight. I've reacted in the classroom, when students say mean things. I've reacted at work, when I've gotten frustrated with a situation. I've reac...

In real life, we don't always have warning signs when trouble is coming. Oh, we might know there's a possibility of it. But there aren't clues, like there are in books, or music changes, like there are in movies. Sometimes, in real life, a call, or an e-mail, or a text comes through - "Hey. Can you call me really quick please" - and you just know. Something not good is happening. That feeling in the pit of your stomach comes to life. Trouble came.  I dealt with it, tried to get back to work, but that feeling doesn't always go away quickly.  I tried to remind myself that trouble doesn't stay - it isn't permanent - and you're better off if you share your troubles, rather than try to deal with them on your own.

"It's here! It's here!" I exclaimed to the silence of my car. The slightly open mailbox was my first clue as I pulled into the driveway. As soon as my car was in park, I pulled out my phone to see if I received the notification of delivery. Delivery confirmed, I quickened my pace and jumped out of the car, a 'ding, ding, ding' reminding me that my keys were still in the ignition.  I grabbed them, slammed the door, and trotted across the street. There, in the patient black mailbox, it lay, wrapped with the rest of the mail.  I flipped past bills, newspapers, even a card from my in-laws was tossed aside to get to this package. On a whim a few nights ago, I bit the bullet and ordered one  My husband, father, mother, mother-in-law - heck, I think my grandmother even has one.  In my effort to live my "one word", healthy, I thought this was an appropriate step.  When it came across in my Groupon feed for a second time, I was sunk. The fact that...

The time has come. It's time to spread their wings, test out their strength, follow their own path. They'll use their parents' guidance, of course, and they'll still need them for food, for shelter. But it's time for their first real venture into the real world. You may thing I'm speaking of the baby birds you see in the tree outside your window.  You wouldn't be wrong.  But the "baby birds" I'm talking about are my eighth graders. ~*~ The high school guidance counselors, seemingly out of place in our middle school, have found a home this week in the library. Sitting in front of them over the course of the day are our 8th graders and their parents. They're meeting about next year, about freshman year, about what courses they'll take and what to expect. Watching my former students take this step is always fun. I can only see them from a distance, of course, but it is a time of reflection. Look how tall she's gotten. Look ...

Look outside the window and everything is new. New          grass          flowers          babies          colors Look outside the window and everything is old. Old                          leaves                gardens            trees Outside the window. life death green brown new old Your windows hold life and death, growth and destruction, youth and age. Spring holds endless possibility after a season of hiding, a season of dying, a season of hibernating. Embrace the new, but respect the old.  Celebrate what's growing, but acknowledge what's gone.

Isn't it funny how something simple, something you think will be over and done with just-like-that, can turn into something that changes your life? Four summers ago, one of my co-workers offered me the opportunity to attend a week-long professional development session over the summer, free of charge.  What prompted her to think of and offer it to me, I'm not sure - I've never asked.  But I attended - and it completely changed the way I thought about teaching and learning. By nature I am a reflective person, and, if possible, an even more reflective teacher. So having my ideas about teaching and learning challenged so early on in my teaching career was an amazing thing. I was able to solidify and give words to so many things that I knew and felt about teaching - about independence, discovery, and hands-on learning. Four years later, after being given the opportunity to run  the professional development sessions rather than just attend them, I can say that my ideas ...

I can procrastinate with the best of them. What I should have done today: Gone to the grocery store. Made a dessert or appetizer for my meeting tomorrow. Worked on the materials for the presentation I'm giving Wednesday. Cleaned my house. Eaten three meals. Gone outside for fresh air and exercise. What I did instead: Napped. Washed one load of laundry. Ate a roll of Thin Mints. Watched reruns of Leverage. Opened the windows by the couch so I could feel the sun and breeze. Some days are better than others. Every time this happens, I get mad at myself and swear I won't be like this again. I'll get things accomplished. No excuses. No procrastinating. Sigh. Someday.