I want to go to there...

So I found my dream cottage.

Let me back up. I sometimes experience what people call "stress". This "stress" causes me to stare endlessly at walls, eat food without tasting it, and fall sound asleep before I've pulled the covers up. It also forces me into a very decadent past time; looking at real estate I will never be able to afford.

Let's get this straight. I love my house. It is super cute and anyone who has visited it knows that it is quaint, tidy, and very girly. Case in point...



But sometimes, I get the urge to live somewhere else. In particular, I would like to have a cottage in the English countryside, preferably with a view of the hills or the sea or the filming of a Jane Austen novel. Maybe I want to live in a Jane Austen novel. Well, I would do it in an instant if I could also have indoor plumbing, modern feminine protection, and a job.

But this cottage is a real dream. And I can't get it out of my head. I'm obsessed.



I can picture myself sitting in front of the fire, reading a good book, sipping a cup of tea, waiting for the rain to stop so I can go pick some cucumbers from the gaahden. It is harmless (mostly) and indulgent, and I like it, okay? I look at the pile of work next to my computer, I look at the house... and just like Calgon, I'm transported to another world. A world where students don't email me while I'm on my vacation to ask whether or not I've put the extra credit in the gradebook that would inevitably bump their B plus to an A minus.... for example.

If you want to find your own English cottage then go to a site like this one.

I hope this Christmas you find peace and love and joy and happiness. Here's a tip... it doesn't come in a cottage in the English countryside.

The good wolf

I recently realized that when I am sharp and brusque to people, it means I need to take care of myself. I need to do things that are good for me. This isn't always easy in the age of
self-medication. I'd rather zone out playing angry birds or watch endless episodes of The Vicar of Dibley than workout, cook a good meal, read a good book. See, in my mind, I have always equated those things with "taking care of myself" but in reality, they are about
absenting myself so I don't have to deal with the blargh.

Recently, I read this story on one of my favorite blogs, Enjoying the Small Things

There is an ancient Native American story about an old Cherokee who told his grandson about the battle that goes on within us. "My son," he told him, "Inside every one of us dwells two wolves, one evil, one good. The evil one is angry and jealous, full of regret and arrogance, greed and sorrow, guilt and self-pity. The other is good. He is kind and loving, full of hope and peace, joy and compassion."

The young boy thought about it for a moment. "Which wolf wins?" he asked his
grandfather.

The old Cherokee smiled and simply replied, "...the one you feed."

I know my evil wolf relishes that self-medication because it allows him to grow more fierce and snappish. But in this time of year (especially this crazy, busy, sweepingly fast-paced time of year) I want to be engaged and present. I want to be healthy and focused, not vegetative and lazy. I have a feeling I might come back from break feeling refreshed if I take the time to really recharge the batteries. My good wolf likes reading good books, dancing to Lady GaGa, painting my toenails blood red, singing out loud in the car, talking with friends, and stretching my arms wide. My good wolf isn't afraid to take 20 minutes to do something good. This Christmas season, which wolf will you feed?

Whistle while you WORK, dammit!

You know, I think there is a big push in our culture to suppress ingenuity, imagination and intelligence. We end up with this massive "to do" list that consumes so much of our time that actual thinking and reflection is sacrificed for work, work, work.

I think about my students, particularly my IB students. They have a very big to do list. Between Extended Essays, Internal Assessments, External Assessments, classroom requirements, and college applications, it is a wonder that they have time for any extra-curricular activities (which of course they need in order to have sterling college applications that show their dedication to being well-rounded... whew). Then there is the life they live, which is very complicated because they are very complicated beings, emotionally turbulent, hormonally variable, tired, growing, and sensorily overloaded. It makes my head spin to think about it.

And then I think about myself. I teach, and yet so much of my job is ostensibly NOT about teaching. I have to analyze data, assess school-wide problems, determine solutions for said problems, participate in professional development, participate in surveys, individually coach failing students, promote programs, write recommendation letters, advise extra-curricular clubs, contact parents, and meet with colleagues. All of those are important, and necessary parts of a functioning school, but I wonder how much they add to my teaching practice. As a teacher, I find that in order to be a better teacher, I must reflect on my practice daily. That may involve sitting and staring at a wall. And perhaps this sitting and staring at a wall has been mistaken for "free time" by the powers that be. Henceforth, my obligatory "to do" list grows.

I tried something different with my seniors this last week. They had to visually represent a scene from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and explain how it used the perspective of Via Positiva, which we had been talking about that day. They wowed me completely with these creative, thoughtful, funny, and ingenious ideas. And they came up with these ideas in 10 minutes! Their imagination is intact. Their ingenuity is right under the surface waiting to be unleashed!

When did reflection and thinking and considering become so suppressed? My personal belief is that this idea came about from the Puritans. We are a nation founded on a very strong work ethic. Those people had to work in order to live here. This work ethic founded America, gosh-darnit, and was amplified during the depression when my grandparents grew up. My grandfather was a hard-worker who put in an honest day's work as a metal worker. Later, in the 60's, my grandparents couldn't understand my uncle's job as a scientific researcher. They couldn't understand how someone could be paid to think about salamanders.

Where would we be without creativity and thinking and reflection. We wouldn't have the computer without creativity. We wouldn't have life-saving surgical devices without reflection. We wouldn't have the unbelievebly useless devices advertised at Bed Bath and Beyond, products like "The Mangroomer" (really? reaaaaaaallly?). Okay, I guess that isn't the best argument for my point today.

What I do think is that reflection and thinking are critical (if somewhat pooh-poohed) aspects of any professional practice. I wonder if we can allow ourselves the time to sit and think. The time to reflect on what we do well and what we can do better. The time to stop and make decisions that aren't based on panic, time, or desperation.

My challenge to you today is that you stop and think for 20 minutes. Stare out a window, listen to yourself, think about what you do and how you do it. Your practices will not suffer from your pausing.

The mirror

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
1 Corinthians 13:11-13

I have a hard time sitting still and just being. I feel almost as though my constant movement and activity signifies that I am industrious. My industriousness signifies my contribution to the earth which signifies my awesomeness as a human being. But I've noticed that while I am a mean multi-tasker, the quality of my work is less than hoped for, and the constant running of my engine means that I burn out faster, and for long periods of time I am in
the shop, useless and in disrepair.

Intentionality and mindfulness are the key words of the blog today. I am teaching the great Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard. As we dug into the book the first week, I realized that this book is about everything we don't like talking about. I mean, the book is ostensibly about Dillard's observations of nature, but the book is really about what we see reflected back at us when we look at nature. SCARY! Who likes to look in a mirror, especially one that seems distorted and funhouse-esque.




But here's the thing about the mirror. We need to have some kind of self-awareness in order to fuel the engines. I think I multi-task because I am afraid of what happens when I stop. I don't want to sit and think because I'm afraid of what I will think of. Thinking means that I have to be accountable for stuff. That mirror reflects all the blargy-blarg; the blemishes, the chin(s) the cellulite. But the mirror also reflects God; beauty, kindness, contentment and love....if we are able to see it. Being intentional means stopping to smell the roses. Being mindful means tuning out the noise. Intentionality and mindfulness allow us to really see the reflection of who we are, what is going on with us.

My challenge is that you stop what you are doing to look at what is being reflected back to you. Is it rough? Only for a few minutes. Then you notice that you really like your bangs that way and you really don't look like Jack Black (no matter how many times your students tell you this). But mostly, I hope you are able to really see the amazing creation you are. Let that be your fuel.

Roses on Wednesday

SOMEONE got roses today. Okay, I got roses today from my dear friend Heather and her new baby son, Jedidiah whose yawn is only surpassed by his sneeze in cuteness.

Have to share a few things...

1) My friend Kara's Blog. It is fabulous. She is speaking truth and love and wisdom.
2) Am I really supposed to be a teacher?
3) I love teaching Thoreau, but fear that my life is so anti-Thoreau that I am never going to learn the real lessons of simplicity unless I live in a convent in Switzerland. Or Scotland.
4) Jane Fonda is fabulous.
5) I hate grading papers.
6) It is fall...

7) Kelle Hampton's blog made me cry this last weekend. I mean it made me go into the ugly cry. Why is it so hard to be kind to ourselves? What I have learned about life is that the most important relationship I have is with myself. I have to be kinder to myself and that also means letting go of the things I can't control. It's a hard life, why make it harder by beating ourselves up?
8) Laugh at something today. Laughter is the best medicine. Really. Here is something to laugh at.

What I learned from 33 Chilean miners

The last of the Chilean miners has emerged from half a mile below the surface of the earth. Amazing. I watched the streaming video and I showed the video to some of my students today. Everyone wanted to see this amazing thing again and again. My eyes filled with tears again and again. It was so powerful; no commentary, no ads or banners, just the camera trained on a hole in the ground, and the patience of waiting for something wonderful to happen.

As each of the miners emerged, they were so happy. Their families were so happy. The Chilean president tried to describe how the miners felt when they came out of the darkness and into the light. He said they felt "reborn" and most of all, they felt alive. I am incredibly claustrophobic, I can't imagine how they felt living in the hot, humid darkness for 69 days. Did they wonder if they would ever get out? Did they imagine the worst?

It got me thinking about mindsets. Those men survived because they set their mind to hope, to trust and to live. I sometimes feel like I get stuck in the emotional mine shafts of my life. I head down a dark path hoping to excavate something that needs to come out, and then there is a cave in and I am stuck in a dark, scary, terrifying place. I know how easy it is to resolve myself to never getting out. It would be easier to stay in bed, eat cookies, and shut off the phones. And no matter what my friends say or do, I have to change the mindset myself. Nobody can change it for me. But when I adopt the mindset that these problems are just momentary, that I am not defined by my sadness or by my negativity, wonderful things begin to happen.

"faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Hebrews 11:1

What is your mindset today? Are you saying "yes" to yourself or is it easier to just believe that things will never get better? I have learned to trust that "yes" mindset. I may be disappointed by moments of blargh, but life is not disappointing. Life surpasses our greatest expectations, but only when we ask it to.

It's a hard knock life...

I am nearing the end of September, thank the good Lord.

It was a bit of a month. There were lots of little turkeys to cross my path; electrical problems, computer woes, vomiting cats. All that stuff can be fixed rather easily, and it was. But then there were some big, frickin gorrillas that came and beat their chests in the midst of my calm. These problems are much larger than I can get into in a blog-like format. I pay someone to help me with those problems, or I make my friends listen to my emotional vomiting and then I buy them a beer.

I guess my point is that I was stuck in this downward spiral. Just when I thought things were coming back around, a little turkey or a big gorilla messed it all up. There is a certain amount of helplessness in circumstances like these. What can I do but hold up my arms and say, "meh"? So that's kind of what I learned this month. There are always turkeys or gorillas and sometimes we have to let go in order to move forward. During September, I filled my journal with a laundry list of these down-turners. Then I realized that I needed to start filling my journal with what I hoped for rather than the things that were bringin me down. It made me feel so much better, and it was so easy to do.

It all comes down to perceptions. If my perception or outlook is to recall and check off this laundry list of horrible things going on in my life, then that is all I will have. But does it benefit me to count my woes? My Gramma Mae always said, "count your blessings." It was a phrase I always rolled my eyes and nodded at. But when the fit hit the shan this month, my blessings were all I wanted to think about. Okay Gramma, I'm trying.

pearls of wisdom

Here are a few little sayings that I have acquired over the years. Some are from my mom, others are from bumper stickers I've seen in Wyoming.

• If there's nothing you can do about it, then it isn't about you right now.
• Resenting someone is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.
• Be kind, everyone you meet is involved in a difficult struggle.
• Success is the best revenge, (murder is a close second).
• Don't take the stories that you write in your head for truth.
• Everybody poops.
  
• Guilt is not from God.
• No one can make you feel inferior without your permission.

What are some of bumper sticker worthy phrases you've heard and remembered?

What my summer has meant to me

Early in June, summer meant that I would get to catch up on all those projects that I didn't get to do during the school year: knitting that baby blanket (or four), reading the novels that sat idle on my bedside table, making candles, cooking every recipe in my Indian cookbook, writing and producing my first CD of folk ballads, re-landscaping my patio, discovering a new element, mediating world peace.

What did I really do this summer? Well, I caught up with "All My Children", took up golf, discovered indie-hipster music, texted, played some online Scrabble, and set aside time in each day to sit and stare out the window. And here's the thing, I had a remarkable summer.

In all the shoulda, coulda, woulda's that we clog our lives with, there is never the freedom to sit and be and enjoy the moment. A couple things happened this summer to bring me all to willingly into a place where I can sit and be, guilt-free. This is called "rejuventation" and it is a necessary part of life.

So what happened?

• I started reading lots of books and articles and poems which encouraged me to be present in each moment. It was interesting how it was sort of coming together, this idea of being mindful of each moment. This is the moment to embrace, and I want to be engaged in it.
• Some dear friends went through some big changes. In particular, my friend Amy decided to make a career shift into the wild and unpredictable world of self-employment. As I was pretty stable and rather idle this summer, I felt that I could encourage her to take the big leap. Shoot, I wasn't bungee jumping off the bridge, so why not sit back and help my friend take that big leap? But I learned something really valuable about faith in talking to her; first, if you are swinging from trapeze to trapeze, then you have to let go of the first bar before you can catch the second. That is the scary part. But the reward of letting go of the first bar isn't the bar you are swinging to, the reward is faith, trust, and the relief that you made it safely. The bar is just the means. My faith in God increases not when He blesses me, but because He is blessing me.
  
• My aunt was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Big sigh. My Aunt Marti is 60 years old and is fresh and passionate about life. This diagnosis has come with a lot of tears, a lot of searching and a lot of processing. As I have talked to her, as I have played scrabble with her and longed to be in New York just to hang out with her, I have learned even more so that this moment is the one. We can't worry or be anxious about the future, especially when we don't know what the future will bring. Being present means being in this moment.

I hope that I am ready for the next school year. There are always "shoulda, coulda, wouldas" there too. But I know that what has been going through my mind this summer has prepared me for whatever moments come up this next school year. My job is just to show up for them.

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on" --Robert Frost

Spring Cleaning

Now that school is out (YAY!) I have had a chance to clean out my house. I am not a messy person by any means, but sometimes when something lands in a place it isn't supposed to be, it stays there until I decide to move it to the right place. And moving something to the right place often involves cleaning out the right place so it can fit there. Kind of a chain reaction. It doesn't help that I watched a marathon of "Hoarders" on A&E the other day. If you find yourself facing a mountain of chores, errands and projects, watch some "Hoarders" and suddenly that honey-do list looks paltry and you should go sit yourself by a pool with an umbrella drink, cause you are doing ALL right.

No, I don't have a hoarding problem. I do have a great number of Dansko shoes and Clinique samples, but what I really seem to collect is sentimental stuff. Postcards from my best friend in the third grade, wedding invitations from 10 years ago, articles on do-it-yourself pedicures, pictures of boys I used to lurk on, dried corsages from school dances. All these things were in shoe boxes in my closet. I started going through them one night after a particularly energetic closet clean out and I realized that I really didn't remember my associations with some of the things. That scared me a little because 15 years ago I kept the crumpled foil chocolate wrapper for a reason. Some of the stuff I was glad to find; an 18 page letter written by my best friend while she was in Germany, birthday cards that were particularly funny, my Duran Duran pin. Good stuff. But some of those things are just so unnecessary now. I pared down my closet because I want to be able to share it with someone someday. And I pared down my memory boxes because I am ready to make new memories.

My life feels like it is in stasis sometimes. I gear up for big challenges and once I succeed (or fail... very seldom) then I sit myself down with a beer and celebrate my achievement. It feels good to be through the challenge, and I am not one to actively seek out new challenges. So, consequently, I wait for challenge to come to me. But I have realized this year that I have to go after the things I want. I want to share my house with a husband, but I have to go out there and face the challenges, not of finding him, but dealing with the emotional baggage that surfaces when I am "out there". That is the scary part. And maybe my spring cleaning has given me a little respite from some of that stuff. I have saved an awful lot of crap that has nothing to do with who I am becoming, and everything to do with who I was. So goodbye to saved artifacts of a life gone by, hello to space to make new memories.

Should we fear or love our teachers?

As a teacher, am I more concerned with being feared or loved? And by loved, I don't mean LOOVED, I mean respected and open. Should I be putting the fear of my terrible wrath into them to "get it done, and do it right", or should I allow them some grace? I tend more toward the grace side of things. I really think my students, ALL my students, are hilarious, sharp, gifted, talented and sweet. I like them. I like going into class and seeing what new epiphanies and ideas they will have. To me, "winging it" means opening the class up to them and letting them take the lead. And yet I wonder, am I being too hippy-dippy? Too easy? Maybe at the beginning of the year I should rise up like an ancient dragon-lady and pour forth laser-beam glances and vicious sneers. Maybe I should set more of a strict tone in my classroom, reminding my students who is in charge and just exactly how things will get done.

Call me Cuckoo Mc Crazyton, call me Mary Poppins-ranka, but I think students shouldn't be afraid of me. I don't think students learn better if they live in fear of my judgment upon them. I know it is really tempting to be all-knowing and all-powerful, but in the end, where does it get me? I am not all-knowing or all-powerful, so why should I keep my students at a distance from this finite amount of knowledge? What am I afraid of? If I cultivate an atmosphere of respect, openness, and humor tossed in with some good boundaries, then my students won't be afraid to come seek me out for help. My door is always open, and my lunches and free moments are taken up with students who have good questions. I am happy to answer questions, and no question is too silly to be asked. My favorite teaching moments are when I meet with the student who wants to write a better intro, or the student who wants help dissecting a poem.

I want to be loved. Not LOOOOVED, but I want my students to know that I am an advocate for their learning, not a hindrance to their education.

Suckers!!

This is the first year I have taught seniors, and they are a nutty, if hysterical bunch of loons. My last block class on Friday decided to play a "prank" on me by simultaneously popping suckers into their mouths. I have an anti-sucker policy in my classroom. I call them "germsicles" and in a season of scary, uber viruses, I think licking suckers is akin to licking someone's used kleenex. My seniors started trading suckers with each other in this afternoon of prankery. I just sat and laughed. They were slightly disappointed that I didn't run screaming from the room, but it takes a little more to get that response. In truth, it was a highlight of my week. The bottom line is that my students listen to me, and they HEAR me. Their joke is proof-positive that they are engaged in my classroom environment.

After reading the New York Times magazine article about building better teachers, and today's Denver Post article on a similar topic, I see education reforms on the horizon, and I am freakin terrified. In the last 20 years, too many education reforms have come and gone without lasting change. In a sense, we look at education reforms in the same way we look at widget-producing. The students become the measures of education's success, but the standards for success are not clearly defined.

In my mind, there are three simple things that could happen tomorrow that would change the face of education reform. Ready??

1. Administration walk-throughs and more interaction with teachers, classrooms and students. If administrators walked through the building, stopped in classrooms informally, and got to know at least 50 students by name who didn't have prior arrest records, then that visibility would become a powerful tool.
2. Becoming "proactive" instead of "reactive". If you govern a school by constantly REacting to problems, then the burn-out occurs more swiftly. Disseminate information liberally. There is no power in hoarding information that impacts the school as a whole. Keep the faculty and staff informed and fewer problems will occur. Tell people what they are doing right before you launch into what they are doing wrong. And delegate, often. As I like to say, if your hair is constantly on fire, build a fireproof helmet.
3. Making your classroom an engaging, creative, (dare I say it) FUN place to be. Whoever said that you shouldn't smile until Thanksgiving was joking. I set clear boundaries in my classroom, and I demand high standards. But I am a benevolent dictator. I listen when students aren't clicking with a particular assignment, reading or task. If I change the lesson or due date or expectations based on valid student input, then the students know I HEAR them. And hearing what your students have to say gives them ownership, which immediately changes the classroom environment. Also, you should joke with them. Never laugh AT them, but laugh with them. If they can laugh in class and if you don't take yourself too seriously, then your classroom is not only a place where THEY want to be, it is a place where YOU want to be. And students are happier and more engaged if YOU want to be in your own classroom. Period.

Education reform should be simple and doable in any classroom from here to Hawaii. It should meet the needs of students, teachers, admins, coaches, secretaries and custodians. I wonder if we, as a nation, could handle that kind of simplicity.

Let my love open the door....

Valentine's Day has come and gone again, and one of my students wondered if we have one day of love, do we have 364 days of hate. It should be the other way around, right? We should love people every day, give them flowers, eat lots of chocolate, feel loved and treasured... every day. Having the one day just seems to highlight the worst perceptions of love; that those who don't have this certain kind are left out, and heart-broken.

I love that Pete Townsend song, "Let My Love Open the Door". I love the idea of love having healing powers, especially when the heart has been broken by love. I don't know that my heart has been irreparably broken by love. Maybe that is a bad thing, like if my emotional heart were competing in a marathon of love, I'd be stumbling along with a side-cramp. But I am in the game again, I started online dating (oxymorons, anyone?) and this last weekend I had a flurry of responses to my online profile. My online profile says as much about me as my 401k. Vague, ambivalent answers to prescribed questions that will magically help me land a man. I wouldn't say that I am cynical, just multi-faceted. I like meeting people face to face. But in our culture, even that has become a Fear Factor event. But as my friend Eric reminded me the other day, if you wanna catch a fish, you have to put your bait in the water. So now here I am, fishing (for lack of a better analogy) for love. And I suppose that the hope (hopenness) that I have this year will allow me to answer love's knock at the door, and let him in.

When people keep repeating
That you'll never fall in love
When everybody keeps retreating
But you can't seem to get enough
Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
Let my love open the door
To your heart

Happy Valentine's Day <3

I'd like to thank...

Well, awards season is upon us. I must admit, I relish the dresses, the presenters, the categories, the host banter... gah, I love it.

And now the crazy part, I have practiced my Academy Awards speech, like a few times. I mean, it could happen, I could write a hilarious and touching screenplay or a song that makes it into a quiet yet powerful movie. My name would be called, I would put a hand on my chest, fan my eyes a bit, kiss my date (Gerard Butler, obviously) and step up to the stage where Matt Damon would hand me the giant man of gold. What would I say? Who would I thank?

I love critiquing the acceptance speeches of the people who win. Meryl Streep is great; so humbly thankful and articulate while also charming with a little joke. Jonathan Demme is awful, goes on and on and on and on while being totally overwhelmed and flustered. There is a certain balance in a good acceptance speech; grateful and surprised while also being poised and articulate. That music is going to play you off, are you going to leave the stage without thanking your husband?? (Hilary Swank... talking to you)

I basically think you have to thank four groups in your speech; the people who gave you the award (der, they voted for you), the people you worked with (because they made you look good, never forget), your parents (they made you who you are), and a spiritual force of your choice (mine is God, because I can do all things through Him who gives me strength).

Until I get that award-winning screenplay or juicy breakthrough role in the next Tarantino film, I will continue to watch and love award shows and practice my own acceptance speech in the shower with a bottle of shampoo.