For one of my on-campus classes, we had to write a "This I Believe" essay. National Public Radio (NPR) does a segment on these essays where people submit "This I Believe" essays and some are given the chance to read them on-air. I wrote one my senior year of high school in AP Language, so I was familiar with the concept, but for my class we had to write one about teaching. In it, I wrote that I thought teaching should be a "humble adventure" where teachers realize that students don't always act out because they dislike you, their failure to not complete their homework isn't because your class is stupid- sometimes there is far more going on in their lives than you can even fathom, and this week taught me that my assumption was correct.
Allisa had students write "This I Believe" essays, and man...did they struggle with it! I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that at 15, many of these students aren't asked to discuss what they believe in. Many of these students go day-to-day being told what to do. I mean, the whole concept of school is institutionalized. Students are like Pavlov's dog- when the bell rings, they know it's time to get up and go to another class, go to lunch, leave lunch, or go home for the day. (Not that this is bad, I personally can't think of another way to do it.) Anyway, they really struggled with writing about concrete ideas rather than abstract ideas. Could they have written about how they believe in love? Yes. But did they understand how to write examples of this? No. We are also doing a huge unit on Moral Courage, so students had to write what they believed in, how it ties into moral courage, use an example from stories that we've looked at in class, and tie in some internet research, and use APA citation to do so. We reached the point where now that students have turned in their final drafts, we are just going to put this assignment "away" and revisit it at the end of the year when students get more used to the fact that their ideas are welcome in our classroom.
Back to the humility thing...
I brought a stack of papers home with me to grade, and I am humbled. One student wrote about how she believes in standing up to bullies because she was bullied. At 15 she has already struggled with anorexia, cutting, and has been hospitalized for suicide 3 times. Yes, that's right, she's 15! Were her conventions of spelling and grammar accurate? Not really. But how on earth do I grade someone's life that like? Another student wrote about her experience in 7th grade (when she was 12), where she got to be friends with a young girl in a group home. One day my student asked her why she wore the same pair of tennis shoes with every outfit, and the girl said they were the only shoes she had. So, my student went home, asked her sister, who was the girl's size, if she had shoes she didn't wear much anymore, and my student brought shoes to the young girl so she could have more than one pair. At 12! No one asked her to do that, no one told her she had to, she had that idea and did it on her own. I just...I get teary eyed thinking about it.
And then there's the student who wrote about how he believed in Christianity. Yes, that's an abstract idea, but he wrote so eloquently and about how people misjudge Christians and how Christians misjudge people. He wrote about his desire to lead a Christian life.
I am humbled. These kids...they go through so much more than we give them credit for. We say things like "What could a 15 year old possibly know?" Well, these kids know a lot more about life than some adults I've encountered. I was talking to someone about teaching in Conyers and they said that it must be an interesting experience since I probably don't have a lot of white students. They said it unassumingly and, growing up in Cobb County, although it was about 50% minority students by the time I graduated, I still went to school with mostly white kids. Honestly, I hadn't noticed it. I was raised, not to be "color blind," but not to treat anyone differently because of their skin color. In one of my multicultural classes I explained it like this: I see race the same way I see that the sky is blue and the grass is green- I don't notice it, really. I know the sky and grass are that color, and people have different colors of skin, so I don't pay much attention. But, after that was brought to my attention, I took a look at my classes, and out of about 170 students, I probably have about 15 white students.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. I love my kids just the same, but it does bring up some interesting things...
I can't relate to my kids on that level. I've never been put down because of the color of my skin. Try as you might to tell me that it doesn't happen, but oh, it still does. Sometimes I wonder, what credibility do I have as a white woman standing in front of these kids? I am fortunate that about 90% of RCA graduates will go onto college. What about when I teach at a school where only 10% of students go on to college? I'm just a white girl, what do I know about some of the things they're going through? Add to that fact that we have 3 out of 23 people in my cohort that are of minority races, meaning that we are headed out into the world of education still mostly white. Some of my cohort members are teaching in schools where there is a low graduation rate and there are 2 white kids in their classes. And the school board wants them to teach The Great Gatsby. Now, considering my fish is named Gatsby, you know I love that book. But what do these minority students have to relate to in a book about rich white people? This adds another dimension to my job- I have to think about and introduce books differently. If I were to teach Fitzgerald's book, I'd have to preface it by asking students if they'd ever been in a situation where they liked a girl (or boy) so much, but that girl/boy wouldn't date them because they didn't have money. Then I'd have to bring in the gangster aspect of it.
I'm ranting, I know, but I wonder how many teachers who have been teaching for many years still think about these things. I am lucky that Allisa uses authors of various races in her classes. She doesn't point it out like it's some big "whoop-dee-do," but it's just another part of our class. I like that.
Bottom line: I love my kids. They are special. And I pray every day that I can be a light to them and that I can let them know how special they are.
Smile, God loves you!
Friday, September 27, 2013
Thursday, September 19, 2013
15 years ago today...
I cannot believe it's been 15 years. I cannot believe I have spent over 2/3 of my life without my daddy.
I made it until right now until crying. Losing a loved one creates indescribable pain- it's a different kind of heartbreak. I remember this day 15 years ago so vividly. I could tell you that I was wearing my favorite 101 Dalmatians T-shirt. I could tell you I got sent to my room because I argued with my dad about what clothes I would wear that day (a big debacle for a six year old). I didn't go to my room. I sat on the top step of the stairs because something told me not to go. I could tell you that, at 6 years old, I heard my dad having a heart attack, that I heard him gasping for air. I watched as Courtney banged on the bathroom door and she and Mom opened it. I saw my mom give him CPR. I saw Kristy run past me in a flash to help downstairs. I was whisked to a neighbor's house as the sirens started. "Victoria doesn't need to see this." My heart aches to think of how much more my sisters and mom saw. I could vividly describe to you what the hospital smelled like, the humming noise of the fluorescent lights. "Daddy is in heaven now." I could tell you what it was like to say goodbye to someone who wasn't my daddy anymore, to someone whose hand was cold and looked like my daddy without a huge grin and a "Hey kiddo!" to great me.
I try not to think too much about this day, but it's in these quiet moments like right now when I'm left to myself that I get sad. I tried to laugh a lot today, and I did. Boy, did I. I know that's what my dad would want, a day full of laughter, because I can still hear his sweet laugh.
My memories of that day are much different than my sisters' and my mom's, and they each have their own versions of that story to tell. The days that followed this one were not easy, and I still sit in awe of all that my mom, Courtney, Kristy, and Jackie have done. I know he's smiling somewhere thinking of how proud he is of his wife and girls.
I don't even know how much different my life would be if he were here. That's what losing someone you love does- it fills you with what ifs and other questions. What if I'd had one more day? What if he was still here? What if I hadn't made him angry that morning? Who would I be today? What would my life be like? Would I have been a dancer? Would I be at UGA? Would I be in SAO? The truth is, I don't know the answer to any of those questions, and I'm not supposed to.
When I accepted Christ as my savior at 16, I acknowledged that He would fill the holes in my heart. I acknowledged that this life is no longer mine, but God's. He knows the what ifs, but it is not up to me to know or to question. I have little control over anything in this life, but I do have one option- to choose joy.
I choose joy that I have an amazing mom and sisters. I have three brothers-in-law that love my sisters as they should be loved. I have a grandpa who stepped in to be that male role model in my life. I have two nieces and three nephews who bring more of that joy into my life than I could ever have imagined. I often think about what age they will be when they start asking questions about Nana's husband, and what we will refer to my dad as, but I choose joy in knowing that they will know that even though he never knew them, he too loved them before they were born. I choose joy knowing that he would be proud of the women my sisters and I have become. He would be proud of work I've done, the job I have, the career I'm working towards, and the friends I've surrounded myself with. I choose joy in recognizing that I was showered with texts and all sorts of messages from friends saying they were thinking of me today. I choose joy in knowing that I was not given this life in vain- He has a far greater plan for me that I will ever know.
I have been on quite the journey since I posted something on this day a year ago. The hurt doesn't hurt any less, but it stabs me less often. I will always miss my daddy, and I will ALWAYS love him. Most importantly, one thing has remained constant- that my mom and sisters have been my rock- a stable force that will love me unconditionally, despite the mistakes I've made, how many times I've hurt them. I can know that I can call them anytime, anywhere, and with anything. They will listen, cry, laugh, and support me in whatever I do. That, of all things, is what my dad wanted more than anything, and it was in his death that his greatest wish of the closeness of his daughters was granted.
What's more than that, my God is bigger than the pain I face today, the pain I've faced in the past, and the pain that life will bring in the future. As much as my earthly daddy loved me, my Heavenly Father loves me just the same. I must acknowledge that my dad was God's son before he was my father, so God had the power to call him home, even if those of us on earth weren't ready. I choose joy that God loved my dad that way.
Today, despite the heartbreak, I choose joy.
Smile, God loves you!
I made it until right now until crying. Losing a loved one creates indescribable pain- it's a different kind of heartbreak. I remember this day 15 years ago so vividly. I could tell you that I was wearing my favorite 101 Dalmatians T-shirt. I could tell you I got sent to my room because I argued with my dad about what clothes I would wear that day (a big debacle for a six year old). I didn't go to my room. I sat on the top step of the stairs because something told me not to go. I could tell you that, at 6 years old, I heard my dad having a heart attack, that I heard him gasping for air. I watched as Courtney banged on the bathroom door and she and Mom opened it. I saw my mom give him CPR. I saw Kristy run past me in a flash to help downstairs. I was whisked to a neighbor's house as the sirens started. "Victoria doesn't need to see this." My heart aches to think of how much more my sisters and mom saw. I could vividly describe to you what the hospital smelled like, the humming noise of the fluorescent lights. "Daddy is in heaven now." I could tell you what it was like to say goodbye to someone who wasn't my daddy anymore, to someone whose hand was cold and looked like my daddy without a huge grin and a "Hey kiddo!" to great me.
I try not to think too much about this day, but it's in these quiet moments like right now when I'm left to myself that I get sad. I tried to laugh a lot today, and I did. Boy, did I. I know that's what my dad would want, a day full of laughter, because I can still hear his sweet laugh.
My memories of that day are much different than my sisters' and my mom's, and they each have their own versions of that story to tell. The days that followed this one were not easy, and I still sit in awe of all that my mom, Courtney, Kristy, and Jackie have done. I know he's smiling somewhere thinking of how proud he is of his wife and girls.
I don't even know how much different my life would be if he were here. That's what losing someone you love does- it fills you with what ifs and other questions. What if I'd had one more day? What if he was still here? What if I hadn't made him angry that morning? Who would I be today? What would my life be like? Would I have been a dancer? Would I be at UGA? Would I be in SAO? The truth is, I don't know the answer to any of those questions, and I'm not supposed to.
When I accepted Christ as my savior at 16, I acknowledged that He would fill the holes in my heart. I acknowledged that this life is no longer mine, but God's. He knows the what ifs, but it is not up to me to know or to question. I have little control over anything in this life, but I do have one option- to choose joy.
I choose joy that I have an amazing mom and sisters. I have three brothers-in-law that love my sisters as they should be loved. I have a grandpa who stepped in to be that male role model in my life. I have two nieces and three nephews who bring more of that joy into my life than I could ever have imagined. I often think about what age they will be when they start asking questions about Nana's husband, and what we will refer to my dad as, but I choose joy in knowing that they will know that even though he never knew them, he too loved them before they were born. I choose joy knowing that he would be proud of the women my sisters and I have become. He would be proud of work I've done, the job I have, the career I'm working towards, and the friends I've surrounded myself with. I choose joy in recognizing that I was showered with texts and all sorts of messages from friends saying they were thinking of me today. I choose joy in knowing that I was not given this life in vain- He has a far greater plan for me that I will ever know.
I have been on quite the journey since I posted something on this day a year ago. The hurt doesn't hurt any less, but it stabs me less often. I will always miss my daddy, and I will ALWAYS love him. Most importantly, one thing has remained constant- that my mom and sisters have been my rock- a stable force that will love me unconditionally, despite the mistakes I've made, how many times I've hurt them. I can know that I can call them anytime, anywhere, and with anything. They will listen, cry, laugh, and support me in whatever I do. That, of all things, is what my dad wanted more than anything, and it was in his death that his greatest wish of the closeness of his daughters was granted.
What's more than that, my God is bigger than the pain I face today, the pain I've faced in the past, and the pain that life will bring in the future. As much as my earthly daddy loved me, my Heavenly Father loves me just the same. I must acknowledge that my dad was God's son before he was my father, so God had the power to call him home, even if those of us on earth weren't ready. I choose joy that God loved my dad that way.
Today, despite the heartbreak, I choose joy.
Smile, God loves you!
Friday, September 6, 2013
Daily Bread
Well, I think this is the longest I have gone without a blog post in a very long time, but I've been so busy this has kind of slipped my mind. I've also chosen to make this blog public again (I know, I went through all that just to make it public again), but I did so because I have realized that I could make it so you have to have the link to view the blog and it won't show up in google searches, meaning the only way my students could find it would be through my Facebook, but since that's also private, they wouldn't be able to find it. So, I'm baaaaaack.
I cannot believe it's September, I really can't. I have been at RCA for 5 weeks. Wow! Sorry UGA, but I can honestly say I have learned more in the 5 weeks of my practicum and my major-specific classes with my cohort than I did in the other 3 years of my college career. Now I know why the college of ed made the pre-req courses for education majors so easy, because your butt literally gets kicked every day once you're in your major.
I taught my first mini-lesson on Wednesday at RCA! The form of scaffolding that my MT (Mentor Teacher) uses involves making a template of each type of formal writing assignment that students will do. Since we are focusing so much on reading, one of their formal writing assignments includes writing a book review. I made the template for the book review and then taught it to the class on Wednesday. I had no idea I was going to teach that day, but during planning Allisa told me I was ready and that the only way I would learn to teach would be diving right in. Since she's been teaching for 10 years I believe her! She asked what I was most nervous about and I told her that transitions and getting started make me a little scared so we talked through them. It could not have gone better! The head of the department even came in while I was teaching and I just kept going. Allisa told me I was a "rock star" and that I did really well. The Vice Principal even checked in on me after the lesson to see how things went. I know I'm very spoiled at RCA!
The block scheduling at RCA makes life a little difficult though, because I only get to see the kids every other week which makes building relationships difficult. However, I was even more pleased that the students "had my back" during the lesson. If certain students would start to get off task, other students would tell them to be quiet and listen to me. What victory! All that time I spend loving on them and talking to them does make a difference. I wrote about this on Facebook, but the only downfall happened at the end of the lesson when I asked if anyone had questions...their question? If my blonde hair was natural! Oh well, I laughed and said yes and then continued with the lesson.
I was also surprised that period B4 (block scheduling = A days and B days) which is a NIGHTMARE was great during my lesson as well. That class is exhausting. Teacher friends reading this, Allisa and I need your help with this class. They are great kids and they are brilliant, but all 32 of them have outspoken, opinionated personalities, resulting in them being about 2 days behind every other class. That class is an inclusion class (meaning that students with learning or intellectual disabilities, or students with Individualized Education Plans or Section 504 plans are also in there) but the students with disabilities are the most well behaved. We do, however, have an opportunity for a co-teacher to come in. Her name is Felicia and I love her. I admit that all of the stories I have heard about co-teaching tend to have nightmare qualities to them, but Allisa never has anything but awesome things to say about Felicia. She knows what she's doing and has such a heart for teaching. On Wednesday she was walking beside the bus as it rolled away talking to a student through a bus window answering his questions- that's dedication! She's also one of the teachers at RCA that treats me like a coworker and not a student teacher. Everyone there is so nice, but sometimes I feel like they think they have to "water down" teaching conversations for me to understand, but Felicia doesn't do that, and it's something I really appreciate. Allisa doesn't do this either, but she does spend a lot of time explaining things to me at my request because I want to be fully informed and prepared for what we do each day.
Recruitment ended last night with our bid day celebration for SAO, which means things will slow down the tiniest bit. I've literally spent the last two weeks running from one place to the next and getting about 5 hours of sleep every night. If you know me, that is not good! But, I have discovered that I function remarkably well on 6 hours of sleep.
What does all of this have to do with daily bread? Every morning when the alarm goes off at 5:20 and I do NOT want to get out of bed, I say a simple prayer, "Lord, please give me the strength and energy for the day," and He does. He is SO faithful. His love never fails. One thing that is nice about the 1 hour commute to RCA is that I have time to pray and spend in reflection. I usually pray the majority of the way there. I pray over the day, over the students, and that I do well. I pray that I am a light in the school and that students know I care. I pray Jesus works through me to help those students. I pray that I "embrace the noise" that 15 year old have (because they ARE noisy), and I use their opinions to my advantage rather than continually tell them to be quiet. I also pray that God multiplies the time in the day (ie: fish and loaves Bible story).
For someone who LOVES to plan and know what's happening next, I've really had to rely on God to get me through life one day at a time. I also don't want to spend so much time looking forward that I don't enjoy today. Although a lot of planning is involved in teaching and knowing what comes next, while I am at school I focus on RCA and not my UGA classes, and vice versa.
I've also been blessed with an awesome cohort. We spent 9 hours together on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and we've really bonded over our "one foot in the door of adulthood" type lives. We do vent a lot , but we also build each other up. We joke that whenever someone walks in the door before 8 am with their eyes open and clothes on, then they've already succeeded for the day. I have noticed that I complain/vent a lot, and that's something I'm working on.
A friend is going through something similar to what I went through a year ago, and it has been nice to look back on this blog and reflect on what I was feeling and how God refined me. I hope to use this as sort of a journal of my student teaching experience. I want to look back at posts and see growth and what has changed. For now though, I'm just working to get through one day at a time and fight off this new cold I have (teenage germs are the WORST. My immune system is in overdrive. I just got over a cold only to now feel another one). HIS LOVE NEVER FAILS though.
Smile, God loves you!
I cannot believe it's September, I really can't. I have been at RCA for 5 weeks. Wow! Sorry UGA, but I can honestly say I have learned more in the 5 weeks of my practicum and my major-specific classes with my cohort than I did in the other 3 years of my college career. Now I know why the college of ed made the pre-req courses for education majors so easy, because your butt literally gets kicked every day once you're in your major.
I taught my first mini-lesson on Wednesday at RCA! The form of scaffolding that my MT (Mentor Teacher) uses involves making a template of each type of formal writing assignment that students will do. Since we are focusing so much on reading, one of their formal writing assignments includes writing a book review. I made the template for the book review and then taught it to the class on Wednesday. I had no idea I was going to teach that day, but during planning Allisa told me I was ready and that the only way I would learn to teach would be diving right in. Since she's been teaching for 10 years I believe her! She asked what I was most nervous about and I told her that transitions and getting started make me a little scared so we talked through them. It could not have gone better! The head of the department even came in while I was teaching and I just kept going. Allisa told me I was a "rock star" and that I did really well. The Vice Principal even checked in on me after the lesson to see how things went. I know I'm very spoiled at RCA!
The block scheduling at RCA makes life a little difficult though, because I only get to see the kids every other week which makes building relationships difficult. However, I was even more pleased that the students "had my back" during the lesson. If certain students would start to get off task, other students would tell them to be quiet and listen to me. What victory! All that time I spend loving on them and talking to them does make a difference. I wrote about this on Facebook, but the only downfall happened at the end of the lesson when I asked if anyone had questions...their question? If my blonde hair was natural! Oh well, I laughed and said yes and then continued with the lesson.
I was also surprised that period B4 (block scheduling = A days and B days) which is a NIGHTMARE was great during my lesson as well. That class is exhausting. Teacher friends reading this, Allisa and I need your help with this class. They are great kids and they are brilliant, but all 32 of them have outspoken, opinionated personalities, resulting in them being about 2 days behind every other class. That class is an inclusion class (meaning that students with learning or intellectual disabilities, or students with Individualized Education Plans or Section 504 plans are also in there) but the students with disabilities are the most well behaved. We do, however, have an opportunity for a co-teacher to come in. Her name is Felicia and I love her. I admit that all of the stories I have heard about co-teaching tend to have nightmare qualities to them, but Allisa never has anything but awesome things to say about Felicia. She knows what she's doing and has such a heart for teaching. On Wednesday she was walking beside the bus as it rolled away talking to a student through a bus window answering his questions- that's dedication! She's also one of the teachers at RCA that treats me like a coworker and not a student teacher. Everyone there is so nice, but sometimes I feel like they think they have to "water down" teaching conversations for me to understand, but Felicia doesn't do that, and it's something I really appreciate. Allisa doesn't do this either, but she does spend a lot of time explaining things to me at my request because I want to be fully informed and prepared for what we do each day.
Recruitment ended last night with our bid day celebration for SAO, which means things will slow down the tiniest bit. I've literally spent the last two weeks running from one place to the next and getting about 5 hours of sleep every night. If you know me, that is not good! But, I have discovered that I function remarkably well on 6 hours of sleep.
What does all of this have to do with daily bread? Every morning when the alarm goes off at 5:20 and I do NOT want to get out of bed, I say a simple prayer, "Lord, please give me the strength and energy for the day," and He does. He is SO faithful. His love never fails. One thing that is nice about the 1 hour commute to RCA is that I have time to pray and spend in reflection. I usually pray the majority of the way there. I pray over the day, over the students, and that I do well. I pray that I am a light in the school and that students know I care. I pray Jesus works through me to help those students. I pray that I "embrace the noise" that 15 year old have (because they ARE noisy), and I use their opinions to my advantage rather than continually tell them to be quiet. I also pray that God multiplies the time in the day (ie: fish and loaves Bible story).
For someone who LOVES to plan and know what's happening next, I've really had to rely on God to get me through life one day at a time. I also don't want to spend so much time looking forward that I don't enjoy today. Although a lot of planning is involved in teaching and knowing what comes next, while I am at school I focus on RCA and not my UGA classes, and vice versa.
I've also been blessed with an awesome cohort. We spent 9 hours together on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and we've really bonded over our "one foot in the door of adulthood" type lives. We do vent a lot , but we also build each other up. We joke that whenever someone walks in the door before 8 am with their eyes open and clothes on, then they've already succeeded for the day. I have noticed that I complain/vent a lot, and that's something I'm working on.
A friend is going through something similar to what I went through a year ago, and it has been nice to look back on this blog and reflect on what I was feeling and how God refined me. I hope to use this as sort of a journal of my student teaching experience. I want to look back at posts and see growth and what has changed. For now though, I'm just working to get through one day at a time and fight off this new cold I have (teenage germs are the WORST. My immune system is in overdrive. I just got over a cold only to now feel another one). HIS LOVE NEVER FAILS though.
Smile, God loves you!
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