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!
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Busy and Overwhelmed
Well, as of 4:45 this afternoon I survived my first week of the "hardest and worse year of [my] college career," at least that's how everyone prefaces the year of English Ed practicum and student teaching. I have been told from various people that EE is one of the hardest education programs at UGA.
How do I feel, you ask? Exhausted. Overwhelmed. Inadequate. Unprepared. Anxious.
I was doing pretty well until I got the short end of the stick for showing up late for duty because I got out of class at 4:45 on the opposite side of campus and couldn't get back here until 5, even though I did what I was told and told a supervisor for the evening that I'd be late. Then the bus was late. Then I snapped at someone which caused them to get defensive. And then I come into my room and there is this horrible smell of rotten food (despite having cleaned out my "pantry" and fridge), and I don't want my residents to have a smelly RA. That last reason is completely irrational I know, but I just lost it and just finished having my first break down of what I'm sure will be many this year. I let myself cry for about 5 minutes and then I got myself together. I think that's pretty reasonable. Oh, and I have myself locked in my room until I calm down and can then go concentrate and love on my residents. I just needed a little "me" time for about 20 minutes to recharge so I can hopefully be a good RA to them.
Why are you having those emotions? Well, my week looks a little like this:
Sunday at 8-9 pm: RA meeting
Monday:
5:15 am- get up
6:30 am- leave Athens
7:45 am- must be at RCA
4:30 pm (ish)- leave RCA
5:30-8pm- SAO exec meetings and chapter
Tuesday:
5:15 am- wake up
5:30 am- go for a run
7:30 am- leave for class
8am-4:45pm- in class in the same room in the education building
Wednesday:
Same as Monday except then I go on duty at 5pm which means I have to leave RCA before 4:00pm. Luckily Allisa (my mentor teacher AKA "MT") has a doctoral class in Athens at 5 so I don't feel guilty for leaving early.
Thursday:
same as Tuesday
Friday: "off" except every other week I have a meeting with my supervisory team for EE and every other week I have a one-on-one meeting with my supervisor for Housing.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays I'm taking 5 different classes with my cohort (the 23 other English Ed majors in the program). One person has already dropped the major because just hearing about all we have to do overwhelmed her. Our Teaching Team says it's pretty typical for 2-3 people to drop. My work load is insane, consisting of 6 textbook chapters, 5 article readings that are 30-60 pages each, 1 essay response, 1 discussion post and a comment on a classmate's post, a presentation and rationale, observing and taking formal notes on my MT, observing and taking formal notes on a student, commenting on a classmate's blogpost, and writing a blogpost on my teacher blog (missrivard.blogspot.com- feel free to read that too, but it's mostly professional stuff, I decided to use this one for more personal posts since I don't think discussing my anxiety freak outs and Jesus on a teacher blog is appropriate just yet). Add to that trying to get to know my residents and catering to their needs- I'm pooped. It's hard to get all of that done and go to bed at a reasonable hour.
I'm complaining a lot, I know, but quite honestly I'm just needing to vent right now. And since this blog is private now and the only people to follow this are big parts of my life, I feel comfortable doing so. Thanks for reading, I really just needed that vent session. Now I will unlock my door and go love on my residents. Poor things, they never see me (feeling of inadequacy).
I really am loving my MT and RCA, like so much. But then I have this nagging feeling that says, "is this really what you're supposed to be doing?" I know it's God's plan for me right now, and I just think it's Satan picking at me while I'm weak. Coming into college and throughout my high school career, I didn't think I'd be a teacher, but God has provided and shown me that this is where He wants me. Every morning I have the same prayer, "Lord, please just give me the strength to get through the day," and He has. I think this afternoon I knew the craziness was over and so I could look to what lies ahead tomorrow rather than taking it one day at a time and I just freaked out a little.
Needless to say, prayers would be GREATLY appreciated.
Smile, God loves you!
How do I feel, you ask? Exhausted. Overwhelmed. Inadequate. Unprepared. Anxious.
I was doing pretty well until I got the short end of the stick for showing up late for duty because I got out of class at 4:45 on the opposite side of campus and couldn't get back here until 5, even though I did what I was told and told a supervisor for the evening that I'd be late. Then the bus was late. Then I snapped at someone which caused them to get defensive. And then I come into my room and there is this horrible smell of rotten food (despite having cleaned out my "pantry" and fridge), and I don't want my residents to have a smelly RA. That last reason is completely irrational I know, but I just lost it and just finished having my first break down of what I'm sure will be many this year. I let myself cry for about 5 minutes and then I got myself together. I think that's pretty reasonable. Oh, and I have myself locked in my room until I calm down and can then go concentrate and love on my residents. I just needed a little "me" time for about 20 minutes to recharge so I can hopefully be a good RA to them.
Why are you having those emotions? Well, my week looks a little like this:
Sunday at 8-9 pm: RA meeting
Monday:
5:15 am- get up
6:30 am- leave Athens
7:45 am- must be at RCA
4:30 pm (ish)- leave RCA
5:30-8pm- SAO exec meetings and chapter
Tuesday:
5:15 am- wake up
5:30 am- go for a run
7:30 am- leave for class
8am-4:45pm- in class in the same room in the education building
Wednesday:
Same as Monday except then I go on duty at 5pm which means I have to leave RCA before 4:00pm. Luckily Allisa (my mentor teacher AKA "MT") has a doctoral class in Athens at 5 so I don't feel guilty for leaving early.
Thursday:
same as Tuesday
Friday: "off" except every other week I have a meeting with my supervisory team for EE and every other week I have a one-on-one meeting with my supervisor for Housing.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays I'm taking 5 different classes with my cohort (the 23 other English Ed majors in the program). One person has already dropped the major because just hearing about all we have to do overwhelmed her. Our Teaching Team says it's pretty typical for 2-3 people to drop. My work load is insane, consisting of 6 textbook chapters, 5 article readings that are 30-60 pages each, 1 essay response, 1 discussion post and a comment on a classmate's post, a presentation and rationale, observing and taking formal notes on my MT, observing and taking formal notes on a student, commenting on a classmate's blogpost, and writing a blogpost on my teacher blog (missrivard.blogspot.com- feel free to read that too, but it's mostly professional stuff, I decided to use this one for more personal posts since I don't think discussing my anxiety freak outs and Jesus on a teacher blog is appropriate just yet). Add to that trying to get to know my residents and catering to their needs- I'm pooped. It's hard to get all of that done and go to bed at a reasonable hour.
I'm complaining a lot, I know, but quite honestly I'm just needing to vent right now. And since this blog is private now and the only people to follow this are big parts of my life, I feel comfortable doing so. Thanks for reading, I really just needed that vent session. Now I will unlock my door and go love on my residents. Poor things, they never see me (feeling of inadequacy).
I really am loving my MT and RCA, like so much. But then I have this nagging feeling that says, "is this really what you're supposed to be doing?" I know it's God's plan for me right now, and I just think it's Satan picking at me while I'm weak. Coming into college and throughout my high school career, I didn't think I'd be a teacher, but God has provided and shown me that this is where He wants me. Every morning I have the same prayer, "Lord, please just give me the strength to get through the day," and He has. I think this afternoon I knew the craziness was over and so I could look to what lies ahead tomorrow rather than taking it one day at a time and I just freaked out a little.
Needless to say, prayers would be GREATLY appreciated.
Smile, God loves you!
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Teaching and Privacy
I have so much to tell I just don't know where to begin! If you've kept up with my Facebook statuses, you know I was pretty upset when I found out I'd be placed in Rockdale County, an hour for a one-way trip. Add to this fact that I'm on SAO's executive board AND an RA, and you can see why I was freaking out. Not to mention I have an older car and can barely save any money at all without paying for all that gas. Well, I went to the school on Friday and fell in LOVE with it.
I've been placed at Rockdale Career Academy (RCA), which is a charter school in Rockdale County. It's a career and college prep school where students spend the first two class periods at a traditional county school and then come spend the rest of the day at RCA. The school is equipped with a green house, mechanic's garage, medical room, marketing wing, forensics lab, and so much more. Obviously, some of the students will need to attend college to pursue the careers they study at RCA, but some students may just need a certificate or none of the above. It's a student-choice school, so the students choose to come to RCA. Mrs. Lisa Hall, my incredible mentor teacher, introduced me to every staff member at the school, and everyone was SO welcoming. Mrs. Hall and many of her coworkers are UGA alum, so it's nice to have an extended bulldog family away from Athens. I ate lunch with the staff and then stood in for the staff picture- they told me I had to because I'd joined the family and now I couldn't get rid of them. Everyone raved about Lisa and how incredible she was and told me that I'd never find another place like RCA. One of the first-year Science teachers was a student teacher there last year and Micki, the principal, "snatched her up," so everyone kept telling me to keep that in mind. This is Lisa's first year as a mentor teacher, and she's in UGA's doctoral program at UGA with one of my TAs for English Ed, and that's how she was recruited.
I think Lisa and I will be a great fit. At the end of last year, Rockdale County decided to privatize their custodial staff, meaning that members of the staff only get paid for 32 hours a week. Now, I think we all know that many custodians work way more than 32 hours a week, but now these hard-working employees work more than that allotted hour cap but only get paid for those 32 hours. In addition, they all have to wear uniforms, setting them even more apart from the other staff. Lisa made sure to introduce me to every custodian, and she knew all of their names and had something nice to say about them (I don't know if many teachers at other schools could do the same). Lisa organized a lunch for the teachers, administrators, and custodial staff so they could all eat together as ONE staff and honor the hard work of the custodians. Custodial workers are so under-appreciated and hardly get recognized for their work, and all that the teachers did for them really touched my heart.
God has a funny sense of humor, huh? I really wasn't anxious about going to the school. I was nervous about finding the school but not so much about meeting everyone, and you all know how rare that is. It was so nice to walk into the building and feel like I was exactly where I'm supposed to be. God has a plan and I prayed really hard and surrendered this whole situation to Him, and I know He will provide.
Oh! I will be teaching 10th grade World Literature and Composition. I walked into Lisa's expertly decorated classroom (you can tell she's a veteran teacher- she taught middle school for 7ish years before starting at RCA), and she asked me if I liked to read. She has set a goal for her students to each read 12 books/semester. They will walk into class and read for 20-30 minutes (we have 90 minute classes), and then journal about what they've read. Journal topics may be given to them, or they can write about how they like the book, any vocab words they found, etc. Lisa and I will also have journals and will be reading during that time as well. Lisa says she thinks it's important to set the example and "practice what we teach" (get it? not "preach"- I'm so punny). We will also have conferences with each student about their reading about once every two weeks. Needless to say, I think I'm in the right classroom.
Now, privacy. This blog has served as an amazing and incredible outlet for me to witness to others. I've been blessed to share what God has and is doing in my life through this silly blog. However, as I embark on this teaching experience, I will of course want to write about my days and what I'm learning- my mistakes, my victories, etc. With that being said, I've made the decision to make this blog private. If I ever write about students I will of course change their names, but I would hate for a student to find this blog. I also want to keep any semblance of privacy that I can while teaching, and with social media, that remains difficult. I can see with every time I post that about 100+ people read this blog, and I really only hear from about 12, which is completely FINE and that's what I want, BUT if you would like to follow me on my teaching journey, please send me your email address and I will give you permission to view my blog. If you're a family member or one of my "followers," I'll automatically add you. Please don't be afraid to send me your email because I want to continue spreading the Word and His love through this particular medium. Tomorrow is the first day of school, so I will probably make the switch around Wednesday.
Now I just have to get used to waking up at 5 am, setting out my clothes, and packing a lunch!
Smile, God loves you!
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Quarter Life Crisis.
It's official, I've fallen off of my "I'm doing so well!" train. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and yes, physically. A lot of change is just around the corner, and I, someone who loathes change, get very uncomfortable. In the next month I will move rooms again, have to take a final, write two papers, make new door decorations, decorate a new hall, go through RA training for the 3rd time, tackle the large obstacle that is resident move-in, resume my position as SAO Secretary, start SAO recruitment, start classes, find out my school placement, meet my mentor teacher, and start my teaching practicum. Just thinking about all of that makes me want to crawl in bed and not get up until Labor Day. So in being uncomfortable, I revert back to what is familiar, and how I used to handle things. What's familiar is anxiety, depression, darkness, and sadness, so I undo a lot of what I've worked on in the last year. Some pretty dark thoughts are back- thoughts that haven't occurred to me in almost six months, and in the last week or so they've consumed a lot of my thinking. I've allowed Satan to enter into my mind and once again tell me I'm not good enough. Not pretty enough. Not thin enough. Not smart enough. Not strong enough. He tells me I'm too sensitive. He tells me I'm unwanted, undesirable, and unloved. My past and memories of my mistakes pop into my mind, as constant reminders of my struggle with little emphasis on my victory.
In addition to what's happening in the next month, I'm reaching the point of "oh crap, what am I doing after I graduate from college?" I know that at this point in my life I'm supposed to be a teacher. I'm more passionate about it than other career paths, I get "fired up" when I talk about school issues and students, but then I have this moment of "is this really what I'm going to do for the rest of my life?" Do I want to start teaching right away? Is getting my master's degree my better option? It's really not that much of a pay raise. My big sis in SAO, Ansley, is an English teacher at Mill Creek High School and advised me to go ahead and get my master's degree so I don't have to take online classes while teaching.
Grad school. I hope to, want to, and need, to get an assistantship, preferably in Housing to help pay for school while I get my master's in English Ed. That would mean that I would oversee a staff of RAs as a grad student. The package is a sweet deal, and I can't afford more school without it (my debt from undergrad, even with keeping HOPE and going to an in-state school is still ridiculous, but that's another story). So, if I don't get an assistantship then I can't go to grad school. Unless I choose to go to KSU and live at home for two years. KSU has a great education program, and I would save a lot of money, but then I'd also have to find a part-time job in Kennesaw/Marietta, and the thought of going back home to Marietta makes me kind of sick; I just really think I've outgrown my hometown.
Then there's this whole dream of writing a book and working in young women's ministry. That fire burns pretty brightly too. But, if I pursued ministry I'd want to go to seminary school, but do I really need to do that? More school, more money. I know God will provide, but how can I teach and work in young women's ministry?
Ending up alone. That's a huge fear. I know, I know, I'm 21 years old and have my whole life ahead of me, I really don't need to think about getting married. It's hard when you get on Facebook every day and there are at least 3 engagements, not to mention your friends are getting engaged/soon to be engaged. Will I find a Godly man willing to be a Spiritual leader for me? Will I have kids one day? Can a man handle the crazy and insane person that I am? Will a man be able to handle my dark past/will his heart be prepared to forgive me? Will I be able to accept his past? The list goes on and on. I know it's useless and pointless to worry. And I had a "come to Jesus" moment a few weeks ago where I realized I needed to stop "looking." My attitude towards the prospect of having a boyfriend in the last six months has been "ain't nobody got time for that," but, being a girl in today's society, you can't meet a guy and not think "what if..?" (also dumb and annoying but that's what society teaches us but that's a whole other can of worms for me to discuss later.) Ultimately, I want to get married and I want to have kids one day. I LOVE being an aunt to Caroline, Robby, Drew, Jacob, and Olivia, but being an aunt (among being the best form of birth control) makes me want kids of my own one day so much more. I know that as long as I pursue my King, Jesus Christ, the Lord will place my "prince" (cue the cheesy) in my path. Yet I still worry.
All of this lately has opened the flood gates to Satan's vicious attacks, to my anxiety, to those dark thoughts, to my loneliness. I've tried to be proactive- I've told my mom and the people I spend the most time with here in Athens so they know what signs to look for, but then that voice in the back of my head tells me that because I've been there before, my friends won't want to put up with me anymore. That voice tells me that I'm made for nothing more than constantly battling anxiety and depression. It tells me that no one is going to want to put up with my irrational, dramatic emotions that happen sometimes. Even though I've worked on those emotions so much they still come out sometimes, and that voice tells me that they'll always be part of me. It hurts. And I'm angry with God, and by golly I tell Him that. Really? We've come so far in a year and He's going to let Satan attack me like that? Jesus you're supposed to be interceding on my behalf, so where the heck are you? These are common thoughts. Yet I'm still blessed by friends who look out for me and fill me up with Biblical truths. Because I've been angry I really haven't been praying much lately- I've been too stuck in my own head. Then today I was in the car and Meredith Andrews' "After All" came on and the floodgates open and I started crying and couldn't stop. I may be angry with Him, pissed occasionally, and I may want to curse Him, but He is there. He is constant. He will never forsake me. He is good (even when I choose not to see it). I need to remind myself of that, and I need to spend some time on my knees praying and crying to that God I love no matter how much it may kill me to do so. Even today as I was making door decs for my future residents, I was thinking about how much I had to do and what my life has in store and I literally heard Him say "could you just shut up and let me work?" I guess sometimes I need a slap in the face, and honestly, I deserved it.
Tomorrow is a new day. My alarm will go off, and I'll go through the motions until I start to feel things again. The sun will still rise. I just need to keep walking and breathing and trust that He will see me through. But let's be real, that's all wayyy easier said than done.
Smile, God loves you!
I think I should take my own advice on that one!
"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I have come so that you may have life, and have it to the full." -John 10:10
In addition to what's happening in the next month, I'm reaching the point of "oh crap, what am I doing after I graduate from college?" I know that at this point in my life I'm supposed to be a teacher. I'm more passionate about it than other career paths, I get "fired up" when I talk about school issues and students, but then I have this moment of "is this really what I'm going to do for the rest of my life?" Do I want to start teaching right away? Is getting my master's degree my better option? It's really not that much of a pay raise. My big sis in SAO, Ansley, is an English teacher at Mill Creek High School and advised me to go ahead and get my master's degree so I don't have to take online classes while teaching.
Grad school. I hope to, want to, and need, to get an assistantship, preferably in Housing to help pay for school while I get my master's in English Ed. That would mean that I would oversee a staff of RAs as a grad student. The package is a sweet deal, and I can't afford more school without it (my debt from undergrad, even with keeping HOPE and going to an in-state school is still ridiculous, but that's another story). So, if I don't get an assistantship then I can't go to grad school. Unless I choose to go to KSU and live at home for two years. KSU has a great education program, and I would save a lot of money, but then I'd also have to find a part-time job in Kennesaw/Marietta, and the thought of going back home to Marietta makes me kind of sick; I just really think I've outgrown my hometown.
Then there's this whole dream of writing a book and working in young women's ministry. That fire burns pretty brightly too. But, if I pursued ministry I'd want to go to seminary school, but do I really need to do that? More school, more money. I know God will provide, but how can I teach and work in young women's ministry?
Ending up alone. That's a huge fear. I know, I know, I'm 21 years old and have my whole life ahead of me, I really don't need to think about getting married. It's hard when you get on Facebook every day and there are at least 3 engagements, not to mention your friends are getting engaged/soon to be engaged. Will I find a Godly man willing to be a Spiritual leader for me? Will I have kids one day? Can a man handle the crazy and insane person that I am? Will a man be able to handle my dark past/will his heart be prepared to forgive me? Will I be able to accept his past? The list goes on and on. I know it's useless and pointless to worry. And I had a "come to Jesus" moment a few weeks ago where I realized I needed to stop "looking." My attitude towards the prospect of having a boyfriend in the last six months has been "ain't nobody got time for that," but, being a girl in today's society, you can't meet a guy and not think "what if..?" (also dumb and annoying but that's what society teaches us but that's a whole other can of worms for me to discuss later.) Ultimately, I want to get married and I want to have kids one day. I LOVE being an aunt to Caroline, Robby, Drew, Jacob, and Olivia, but being an aunt (among being the best form of birth control) makes me want kids of my own one day so much more. I know that as long as I pursue my King, Jesus Christ, the Lord will place my "prince" (cue the cheesy) in my path. Yet I still worry.
All of this lately has opened the flood gates to Satan's vicious attacks, to my anxiety, to those dark thoughts, to my loneliness. I've tried to be proactive- I've told my mom and the people I spend the most time with here in Athens so they know what signs to look for, but then that voice in the back of my head tells me that because I've been there before, my friends won't want to put up with me anymore. That voice tells me that I'm made for nothing more than constantly battling anxiety and depression. It tells me that no one is going to want to put up with my irrational, dramatic emotions that happen sometimes. Even though I've worked on those emotions so much they still come out sometimes, and that voice tells me that they'll always be part of me. It hurts. And I'm angry with God, and by golly I tell Him that. Really? We've come so far in a year and He's going to let Satan attack me like that? Jesus you're supposed to be interceding on my behalf, so where the heck are you? These are common thoughts. Yet I'm still blessed by friends who look out for me and fill me up with Biblical truths. Because I've been angry I really haven't been praying much lately- I've been too stuck in my own head. Then today I was in the car and Meredith Andrews' "After All" came on and the floodgates open and I started crying and couldn't stop. I may be angry with Him, pissed occasionally, and I may want to curse Him, but He is there. He is constant. He will never forsake me. He is good (even when I choose not to see it). I need to remind myself of that, and I need to spend some time on my knees praying and crying to that God I love no matter how much it may kill me to do so. Even today as I was making door decs for my future residents, I was thinking about how much I had to do and what my life has in store and I literally heard Him say "could you just shut up and let me work?" I guess sometimes I need a slap in the face, and honestly, I deserved it.
Tomorrow is a new day. My alarm will go off, and I'll go through the motions until I start to feel things again. The sun will still rise. I just need to keep walking and breathing and trust that He will see me through. But let's be real, that's all wayyy easier said than done.
Smile, God loves you!
I think I should take my own advice on that one!
"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I have come so that you may have life, and have it to the full." -John 10:10
Thursday, July 11, 2013
The Biggest Loser
Last week I posted about my desire and conviction to stop watching so much crap TV. I decided to turn to NBC's "The Biggest Loser" on Hulu (don't get me started on how much I hate Hulu-I'm a Netflix girl, thanks to Jackie and Andrew, but Netflix doesn't have TBL). Yes, the show is reality TV, and yes there is some cursing, but it's bleeped out and for the most part, it's a "wholesome" TV show. I also really like that they get to the underlying issue behind the obese/overweight person's weight and health problems. From being told you were ugly every day, a failed marriage, a lost child, being adopted and feeling out of place, or a feeling of worthlessness, the show addresses it. It's quite motivating to watch people with health issues far beyond mine find success. Cheesily (yes I made up that word) I probably cry at the end of every episode because of how emotional the contestants get at their own success- they have such a reason to be proud of themselves!
When these men and women get vulnerable and feel that their weight makes them undesirable, ugly, unattractive, and worthless, I find myself shouting at my computer, "YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL!" This was an "ah-ha" moment as I realized that I can see the beauty in these total strangers, but can't always see it in myself.
Of course, I do not have the amount of weight to lose that they do: my blood pressure is great, I have healthy cholesterol, and my goal is to lose 15-20lbs, not 100+ like their's is. However, we do have something in common--- a desire and commitment to changing our lives with healthy living.
I do have to say though, Tuesday I had a little taste of sweet victory. I was pretty frustrated because in the two weeks since I went to see the dietitian, I hadn't lost any weight. I had to keep repeating to myself that I wasn't doing this for numbers and that I had to be patient. If I can sit down at the end of the day before God and say that I ate well, I got my body moving, and I never over-ate or ate emotionally, then that day was a success. In Lysa Terkeurst's book she talks about what the scale can't tell you: it can't tell you how many carbs could have affected your weight, how much salt you ate, if you're bloated, or, if you're a woman, what time of the month it is. I had to repeat this to myself too. Monday night I had a little conversation with God and prayed, well, begged, for the numbers on the scale to go down, and in response I heard "I am refining you." I thought, "well that's fine and dandy, but I sure am working my tail off here." But I accepted it nonetheless. To my surprise, I stepped on the scale and lost 2.5 pounds! Did I do a happy dance around my room? You bet I did.
Now, I think some of the reasons I listed above had to do with that number dropping so much in a week (isn't being a woman grand?- said no one ever), but for the first time in my life I realized that I lost those 2.5lbs the healthy way. I didn't deprive myself; I didn't count calories; I didn't obsess over how much I ate; I didn't skip meals. I ate when I was hungry and stopped when I began to feel full. Did I still feel hungry sometimes? Yes. Are my cravings insane now that my body is changing? Yes. Do I still get discouraged when I look in the mirror? Yes. But, the most important thing is that I am on the road to healthy living, and I lost weight by honoring my body. I didn't fill it up with a bunch of processed foods or use food as an escape. I treated my body the way God intended me to treat it- as holy and a temple.
Another victory has come in the form of a 1 lb bag of trailmix. I have made a bag of trailmix last a week and a half and counting. For some people that's average, but for the old me, that bag would have lasted 3 days, maybe. I would have opened the bag while watching a TV show to escape, and 20 minutes later look down to see a plethora of crumbs displayed on my chest and a half empty bag in front of me. I'd beat myself up, tell myself how disgusting that was, etc. Now, per the dietitian's instructions, she said to measure out the serving size once, and only once, and then "eyeball" every serving after that. So, I know that for me, a 1/3 cup of trailmix is about a hand full and a half. So, I get the handful, eat it, get the little half and close the bag and put it back where it belongs before eating that last little bit. I know it seems like such a simple step, but hey, it works for me.
RUNNING. Oh the dreaded word! Well, I have one more day to complete the 4th week. It will technically be my 4th time running it this week (each week is composed of 3 days), but Monday was a bit, um, muddy. I'm so lucky to have a friend like Elise who runs with me and encourages me. I have such an accountability partner in her. She's always been a very healthy eater and is aware of what she puts in her body. She's also a former ballerina so she gets a lot that I go through. Granted, her metabolism works about 5x as quickly as mine does, but there is no judgment from her, and she gives me recipes and encourages me. We tried to go running at the State Botanical Gardens on Monday, not thinking about the insane amount of rain we've had lately, and we were ankle deep in mud, so it turned into more of a strenuous hike than a run, but we still got moving! Today I didn't have to push myself until the last 50 seconds out of a total of 16 minutes of running (broken into intervals), which made me feel AWESOME.
New Recipe Time (sorry if this bores everyone, but hopefully it will help out my fellow college peers)
I tried kale chips-- all I can say is "eh." I'm not someone who craves potato chips a lot, I'd rather get my salty kick from trailmix, so maybe if I enjoyed chips more I'd like the kale chips. They aren't bad they're just...different.
Kale Chips:
-1 bunch kale
-olive oil
-salt
-baking sheet and parchment paper
1. preheat oven to 350
2. wash kale and take off stem (they're pretty thick and taste kinda nasty) and rip into bite sized pieces (I used the bagged kale, so this could be where I went wrong, but it's all I could find at the grocery store)
4. Place kale on parchment sheet lines cookie sheet, drizzle with olive oil and salt
5. Bake in oven about 10 minutes (The recipe I used said 10-15 minutes, so I did 12 minutes and almost set off the smoke alarm in Brumby because the kale fried to a crisp, 8 minutes was my magical number)
Healthy Taco Salad:
This I made last night because I had some random stuff in my fridge
-chicken breast
-corn
-avocado
-salsa
-spinach
-cheese
-black beans
-tortilla chips
1.cut chicken strips into bite sized pieces and cooked in a pan with a little olive oil
2. add black beans (drained and rinsed), corn (I used frozen), and spinach until everything is heated
3. place on plate, adding avocado, salsa, and cheese
I skipped out on the tortillas, first because I didn't have any and second because those are calories I didn't want or need. To make sure I didn't eat my weight in tortilla chips, I alternated between 2 chips and then just 3 or 4 bites of the "salad" without chips. I didn't actually count, I just made myself aware of how many tortilla chips I was eating.
I know several of you have said you, too, are in a journey to healthy living, and I'd love to hear how your journeys are going.
As always...
Smile, God loves you!
When these men and women get vulnerable and feel that their weight makes them undesirable, ugly, unattractive, and worthless, I find myself shouting at my computer, "YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL!" This was an "ah-ha" moment as I realized that I can see the beauty in these total strangers, but can't always see it in myself.
Of course, I do not have the amount of weight to lose that they do: my blood pressure is great, I have healthy cholesterol, and my goal is to lose 15-20lbs, not 100+ like their's is. However, we do have something in common--- a desire and commitment to changing our lives with healthy living.
I do have to say though, Tuesday I had a little taste of sweet victory. I was pretty frustrated because in the two weeks since I went to see the dietitian, I hadn't lost any weight. I had to keep repeating to myself that I wasn't doing this for numbers and that I had to be patient. If I can sit down at the end of the day before God and say that I ate well, I got my body moving, and I never over-ate or ate emotionally, then that day was a success. In Lysa Terkeurst's book she talks about what the scale can't tell you: it can't tell you how many carbs could have affected your weight, how much salt you ate, if you're bloated, or, if you're a woman, what time of the month it is. I had to repeat this to myself too. Monday night I had a little conversation with God and prayed, well, begged, for the numbers on the scale to go down, and in response I heard "I am refining you." I thought, "well that's fine and dandy, but I sure am working my tail off here." But I accepted it nonetheless. To my surprise, I stepped on the scale and lost 2.5 pounds! Did I do a happy dance around my room? You bet I did.
Now, I think some of the reasons I listed above had to do with that number dropping so much in a week (isn't being a woman grand?- said no one ever), but for the first time in my life I realized that I lost those 2.5lbs the healthy way. I didn't deprive myself; I didn't count calories; I didn't obsess over how much I ate; I didn't skip meals. I ate when I was hungry and stopped when I began to feel full. Did I still feel hungry sometimes? Yes. Are my cravings insane now that my body is changing? Yes. Do I still get discouraged when I look in the mirror? Yes. But, the most important thing is that I am on the road to healthy living, and I lost weight by honoring my body. I didn't fill it up with a bunch of processed foods or use food as an escape. I treated my body the way God intended me to treat it- as holy and a temple.
Another victory has come in the form of a 1 lb bag of trailmix. I have made a bag of trailmix last a week and a half and counting. For some people that's average, but for the old me, that bag would have lasted 3 days, maybe. I would have opened the bag while watching a TV show to escape, and 20 minutes later look down to see a plethora of crumbs displayed on my chest and a half empty bag in front of me. I'd beat myself up, tell myself how disgusting that was, etc. Now, per the dietitian's instructions, she said to measure out the serving size once, and only once, and then "eyeball" every serving after that. So, I know that for me, a 1/3 cup of trailmix is about a hand full and a half. So, I get the handful, eat it, get the little half and close the bag and put it back where it belongs before eating that last little bit. I know it seems like such a simple step, but hey, it works for me.
RUNNING. Oh the dreaded word! Well, I have one more day to complete the 4th week. It will technically be my 4th time running it this week (each week is composed of 3 days), but Monday was a bit, um, muddy. I'm so lucky to have a friend like Elise who runs with me and encourages me. I have such an accountability partner in her. She's always been a very healthy eater and is aware of what she puts in her body. She's also a former ballerina so she gets a lot that I go through. Granted, her metabolism works about 5x as quickly as mine does, but there is no judgment from her, and she gives me recipes and encourages me. We tried to go running at the State Botanical Gardens on Monday, not thinking about the insane amount of rain we've had lately, and we were ankle deep in mud, so it turned into more of a strenuous hike than a run, but we still got moving! Today I didn't have to push myself until the last 50 seconds out of a total of 16 minutes of running (broken into intervals), which made me feel AWESOME.
New Recipe Time (sorry if this bores everyone, but hopefully it will help out my fellow college peers)
I tried kale chips-- all I can say is "eh." I'm not someone who craves potato chips a lot, I'd rather get my salty kick from trailmix, so maybe if I enjoyed chips more I'd like the kale chips. They aren't bad they're just...different.
Kale Chips:
-1 bunch kale
-olive oil
-salt
-baking sheet and parchment paper
1. preheat oven to 350
2. wash kale and take off stem (they're pretty thick and taste kinda nasty) and rip into bite sized pieces (I used the bagged kale, so this could be where I went wrong, but it's all I could find at the grocery store)
4. Place kale on parchment sheet lines cookie sheet, drizzle with olive oil and salt
5. Bake in oven about 10 minutes (The recipe I used said 10-15 minutes, so I did 12 minutes and almost set off the smoke alarm in Brumby because the kale fried to a crisp, 8 minutes was my magical number)
Healthy Taco Salad:
This I made last night because I had some random stuff in my fridge
-chicken breast
-corn
-avocado
-salsa
-spinach
-cheese
-black beans
-tortilla chips
1.cut chicken strips into bite sized pieces and cooked in a pan with a little olive oil
2. add black beans (drained and rinsed), corn (I used frozen), and spinach until everything is heated
3. place on plate, adding avocado, salsa, and cheese
I skipped out on the tortillas, first because I didn't have any and second because those are calories I didn't want or need. To make sure I didn't eat my weight in tortilla chips, I alternated between 2 chips and then just 3 or 4 bites of the "salad" without chips. I didn't actually count, I just made myself aware of how many tortilla chips I was eating.
I know several of you have said you, too, are in a journey to healthy living, and I'd love to hear how your journeys are going.
As always...
Smile, God loves you!
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