Jumpin' Off the Edge

When asked what I want for Christmas I stop and think of the usual requests – Books, music, earrings, and other stuff None of it seems right. I look around our house Expecting to see our tree alight with ornaments collected throughout the years instead, I see a sprig or two of garland. Plans have been made for Christmas Day Cinnamon rolls followed by the opening of presents Shortly after, pack up the car And head to Georgia. Making it seem like it could be any other vacation While you are off doing grown-up things. Even before the wrapping and packing begins Emptiness fills my heart. While at the same time it swells with pride A mother proud of the sacrifice of her son You, staying behind to honor fallen soldiers Spending Christmas without family. I anxiously await the day when you will come home Even if for a short time. For me, Christmas has been postponed. For Christmas for me is not in the tree Nor the presents or trips. It is something altogether different This year

My first year of teaching, I taught 7 th – 12 th graders in a behavioral classroom setting. Needless to say, there was quite a bit of negativity on a regular basis. That was the year the Goodwill Cards began. Back then they were called Christmas Compliments. (The name changed when I had a student who was a Jehovah’s Witness.) Each student wrote something positive to every other student in the class and the adults they worked with. My first year I wrote less than 20 cards. I have done the assignment every year since for the last 18 years. This year, I wrote 130 cards. As soon as the assignment is handed out to students, they begin to grumble. How can I say something nice about so-and-so? We have to write them for EVERYONE?! Why do I have to write one for myself? I just smile and tell them they will understand the importance of the assignment when they get their envelope of cards. I know the importance because each year I have students writing to me that they still have their

in-vin-ci-ble [in- vin - suh -b uh l] adj. unable to be conquered I detest feeling ‘vincible’ amidst a group of middle schoolers. My smile usually at the ready was hidden behind a façade of confidence as I faked my way through the day. Today, I lost the usually bright, energetic me. The funk pressed down more and more heavily as the day continued. By the afternoon, unwelcome tears were teasing and taunting; ready to show themselves as I let the weight of it all collapse on me. Still mired in the negativity, I knew the only way out is to reflect on my day, find the positive, and remind myself all that I love about teaching. Only seven more school days until Christmas track out. The students remind me of it on a daily basis. We even have a countdown on the board complete with green and red to add to the festive spirit. All year I have known that come the end of the semester, four of my classes would be leaving me for another class as I welcomed in new students. As exciting as i

Upon first thought, watching a parent age sucks. Unnoticeable at first. A bit of a stoop, some creaking in the knees, whitening of the hair. The doctor’s visits begin, as do the pills One for high blood pressure, another to thin the blood, and a handful of vitamins to top it off. The signs are there, but it is easier to see him as he has always been. My father, a pillar of strength. Until my pillar was knocked off-kilter. A simple surgery and the mortality of my father looked me square in the eye when the drugs took hold of his brain. Amidst his fidgeting and confusion, I realized…AGING SUCKS! And then….enlightenment dawned upon me….AGING IS BEAUTIFUL Wrinkles tell of smiles while silver hair speaks a life of memories. Knees creaky after years of kneeling in prayer, offering up a lap, and climbing up the stairs for one more kiss goodnight. Almost forty-eight years of memories nestled in my heart. Memories of my father. Taking us to church each Sunday Building and fixing

Yup! This entry is going to be totally cliché. After all, it is that time of year where we stop and think about what we are thankful for in our lives. So here it is. My list of thankful. 1.    One less kid home for the holidays Sean won’t be coming home for the holidays this year. He has been with me every year at Christmas since 1988. I will miss him dreadfully. However, I am so very thankful that he will be spending the holidays honoring fallen soldiers. I am thankful for the man of repute he has become. Most of all, I am thankful he is not one of the fallen. 2.   Unemployment Tony does not have a typical job down here. A few days a week, he drives a rickshaw for tips only and substitutes whenever he gets the opportunity. While we never know what we can count on for the budget, I know I can count on him to be there for the girls; to clean the house; to get the vacuuming done; and so much more. I cannot even fathom how he could enjoy working inside the home. The coo

‘Tis the season. The season when we stop to think about all that we are thankful for before transitioning into the season of giving. I would like to think I am both a thankful and giving person. However, upon taking some time to reflect today, I realized I am not neither as thankful nor as giving as I would like to be. The last six weeks I have been guiding my 8 th grade students through a service learning project in my Research class. The majority of my students are coming to me with stories of great experiences while volunteering their time. Many have spent more time at their community service than the three required hours. I, on the other hand, have done nothing. Some might count the time I spend tutoring my students as community service; I consider it as part of being a good teacher. While I have dropped a few bills into a panhandlers cup and donated to a local charity, that doesn’t warm my heart the way getting involved does. For the last ten years or so, I have been talk

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.                    ~Margaret Mead         Invisible Children came to Franklin Academy today. There was little to no hype beforehand from me. As a matter of fact, I was a bit apprehensive about their visit. Many of the students are very sheltered. What would parents say about showing their children a film about the effects of war in northern Uganda? Was I putting my job at risk?  What would students take away from the experience?       To prepare my students, I showed them a music video by Fall Out Boy. ( I'm Like a Lawyer Always Trying to Get You Off ) The writing that came as a result was beautiful. They were hungry to hear more about it. The time for the presentation finally arrived. Almost 300 students crowded into the theater, in chairs and on the floor, not knowing what to expect. I introduced Jessica wondering if they would focus on th

Each and every day I step into my classroom, I am aware of the impact I am having on students. The way I treat to them is often mirrored back at me. I choose when to encourage through extra pushing and when to celebrate the victory. I greet them each and every day with a smile and belief that they can achieve. This past week, I realized I also have an effect on the teachers around me as well. As teachers, we have very little time to talk. We may have time for a quick hello in the halls between classes. Often, emails carry the brunt of our conversation. If we are lucky, some of us have lunch together. In those snippets of time that we share, I have a choice. I can whine and complain with shoulders drooping about all that I need to accomplish and how Friday never comes soon enough, or I can smile and be light-hearted. I have decided on the latter. Recently, I have been chatting with a few of my colleagues. Teachers that have a passion for what they do. Teachers who believe in

A month! I can hardly believe it has been so long since I have written. This is my third attempt to find what needs to be said. Will it be the final one? Doubtful. (Strange enough – it was the last one!) Silence has invaded my mind. An uncertainty has crept in…I share the whispers of my soul with the world. Is it time to keep them to myself? I have never before been concerned about speaking my mind. Yet, I find myself holding back when it comes to writing about my passion – teaching. What if my philosophy doesn’t jive with one of my readers? More importantly, what if one of my readers is one of my supervisors. This disquiet is unwelcome, yet I can’t seem to let go of it. I write to settle the swirling in my head. I share because, for some reason, there are people out there who are interested in what I have to say. There is no doubt that I love what I do. I can’t imagine filling my day with anything else.   In the 18 years that I have been teaching, my job as an educator has

It all began with a little curiosity. After speaking with a friend and seeing the movie last week, I began to wonder What makes a teacher great? Research shows that both schools and students are successful due to the greatness of their teachers. They (whoever they are) have followed students for several years, watched test scores, and have observed the cream of the crop in action. Many charter schools and teaching organizations such as Teach for America are committed to having the best of the best work for them. All this research is great and gives us information based on the data collectors and statisticians, but I wanted to know how students define a great teacher. Does their definition match up to what the experts say? So I decided to ask some of my students from the past and present. (Thank you, Facebook.) If only my brain would stop there. It didn’t. I began wondering about how parents would respond to the question. Do parents focus on their children doing well on the t

They were my introduction to the south. They attempted to teach me the country way of doing things. They trusted me not only in the classroom, but also with honest writing. They came to me when they needed someone to tutor them, offer a kind word or just to listen. We laughed together. We made memories in the classroom. I went back for a visit today. There is something magical about visiting students of the past. They think back fondly to the time we spent together. The piles of homework I assigned, forgotten. Today when I walked into the lunchroom at Benson Middle School, I was greeted with hugs and smiles. For the thirty minute lunch period, I bounced from table to table. Each table wanting me to stay longer, other tables calling me over. Why were they so happy to see me? I was just another teacher in their lives, some I didn’t even have in class. What made my visit so exciting that they talked about it all morning before I arrived? Why do I miss them all so much? I have

I drove 6 hours to watch it after a colleague told me about it. Needless to say, I spent the night. The hotel was an hour away from the elementary school where it was shown. Was my trip to Vienna, Virginia worth it to see Race to Nowhere ? Without a doubt. For the past four days I have been thinking about what we as a nation are doing to our children. The movie focused on the population of students I teach on a daily basis. Students whose parents expect them to do well in school. Most of who will do whatever it takes for their children to be successful. Students who expect to do well in school, as well as sports, clubs, instruments, etc. Many topics were brought up in the movie: homework, testing, stress, teaching, and even medical issues. I focused on the ones that are still on my mind days later. No matter where I have taught, be it a public, private, or charter school, homework is an issue that comes up every year. How much is too much? Research shows ten minutes per year