Joy

I love summer.  It’s one of the biggest reasons I became a teacher.  About a week into the summer every year, I ask myself how I find time to work and get everything done that gets done from June to August.  This one has been a little different. 

When Nanny fell and broke her hip five weeks before I got out of school, I knew that my summer and my entire life as I knew it was going to be different.  Although I was thankful that the timing worked out to where I could become her primary care giver during the day, I was very aware that beach trips and lazy days poolside were going to be few and far between.  And that’s ok.  I have been claiming the verse in Ecclesiastes 3 that says “there is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven.”  This is my time to soak up every last bit of wisdom and love that I can from a woman who lavishes it onto me.  This is my time to pay her back for every dollar she’s stuck in my purse when I wasn’t looking, every day she picked me up from school, every person she’s sworn to despise forever just because they hurt my feelings.  It’s the first summer I haven’t worked since I turned 15 and the one with the biggest paycheck.         

Lately the notion of having fun, having joy and just being plain ole happy has come up again and again.   When Skip left for the last race, he told me to “Have a fun week.”  This aggravated me to no end in light of how he knew I would be spending the week; I was not going on a cruise, I was spending the week at home-alone- with several doctor’s appointments on the calendar, watching my Nanny process a cancer diagnosis.  When I expressed by doubt that fun was in my future, he pressed on, encouraging me that I had the week to “read whenever you want, meet Kimberly for walks, and spend time with Nanny.” While I do enjoy all these things, I still would not equate them to having a fun week. 

When the new sermon series began last week on JOY, it really got me thinking about the difference between having fun and having joy.  Joy is promised to come from the Lord.  We can experience joy simply because we are saved and we can experience joy through our worship of our Savior.  Nanny always says, “Now I’m not bragging, I’m just stating a fact…” so let me borrow that to preface this next sentence.  I’m not bragging, I am just stating a fact that throughout this summer, I have experienced an abundance of joy.  At times, I’ve even had a great deal of fun.  But I honestly cannot remember a day that was not filled with joy and thanksgiving. 

Since we entered this season after Nanny’s fall and the discovery of the mass in her lung, a lot of sweet friends and family members have said to me, “How are you?”  The first word that comes to mind is lucky.  I have a husband who is patient when he is only home for four days at a time and I spend all four of them cooking breakfast for someone who is not him.  I have a Nanny who has outlived all of her siblings, who was there when I went to college and there when I returned, who bought my wedding dress and helped me plant my first tomatoes.  I am the one she would rather be with than anyone else in the world.  Some people will go their whole lives and not be that to another person.  I am so lucky to have been loved like that for nearly 30 years.  How can I not be joyful?  What better reason is there to rejoice?

We will be finding out more this week about what is ahead for Nanny.  We suspect that other health factors and her personal wishes are going to limit treatment options.  My prayer is that whatever lies down the road, we can maintain our joy and make the most of the time we’re given.  Having fun is not always an option, but having joy is.  I choose joy. 

Thanks for your prayers.

Writing about Writing

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I love to write.  What I love even more as a teacher is “teaching” others to love to write.  Even though my curriculum does not provide much time for creative writing, I build as much into the semester as possible.  The biggest thing I do with my Honors class is a Multi-Genre project that spans the semester and allows students to choose their own topic and genres and work through their own writing process.  At the end of each semester, the projects are due.  While I evaluate their work, I also use them to evaluate my effectiveness as a teacher of writing.  Did I instill at least a part of my passion for the written word into at least some of my students?  Today was judgment day for this batch of freshmen, and I was thrilled with what I discovered.

One of my favorite students (yes I have favorites) turned in an impressive project titled “My Life.”  Not only did he volunteer to share an excerpt first, he shared with evident pride in the effort he’d put forth.  Earlier in the semester, I learned that this student’s father had committed suicide when he was in middle school.  During class, another student told me that he had written a poem about his dad and included it in the project.  After class, a colleague of mine who is a friend of the student’s family stopped by and asked to read his work.  He shared with me that this was the first time since 6^th grade when the incident occurred that he has ever talked -or written- about what happened with his dad.  He has refused counseling, avoided conversations with relatives, and left his mom wondering how to help him cope.   Last night, at the end of his ninth grade year, he asked her to read his poem. 

In the four years that I have used this project in class, no piece of writing has said more to me than the poem written by this young man and it had nothing to do with the words on the page.  All semester long, I plead with the students to write about something they are passionate about.  I vow not to read their daybook entries, and I stay true to my word.  I beg them to put their emotions down on paper and promise they’ll feel better if they do.  I believe that this student trusted me enough to give it a shot, and I believe that it worked.  I pray that he will continue to use writing as an outlet and have the courage to share when he feels that it’s necessary. 

Writing is something we don’t have to outgrow.  As I’ve hovered under my covered the past three weeks and written down words for no one but myself about the reality of Nanny’s fall and the changes my family is experiencing, I’ve been reminded of the cathartic power of writing.  I am more determined now than ever to introduce this passion to each impressionable student that comes my way.      

Happy Birthday, Mama

Today is my Mama’s birthday!  I’ve been thinking for weeks about what I could post that would do her justice.  If you know me well at all, you pretty much know my Mama.  Everything good (and bad!) about me, I got from her (except the reading and writing stuff- that’s all Nanny and Kay). 

So, in honor of my mama on her birthday, here is some of things I love about her.

1.        She makes lists.  For as long as I can remember, she’s had a little tablet in her purse where she keeps grocery and shopping lists.  I love lists.  I especially love checking them off.  When we were grocery shopping together Saturday, she let me use her pen to check off my own list in my own little tablet.

2.       She sends cards.  I’m not as good at this one yet, but I’m working on it.  She keeps back-up cards in her desk at work just in case she needs one spur-of-the-moment.  I’ve been known to call and ask to “borrow” one in a pinch.

3.       She doesn’t have allergies.  But, since I do, she’s been pretending to have allergies for about 5 years now.  (My insurance won’t cover allergy medicine, but hers will.)  When she even thinks I’m running low, she gets me a refill and usually pays for it.  She also keeps a few in her purse in case I forget to take it and need some while we’re together.

4.       She bakes cakes.  And cookies, and brownies for special occasions.  When I decide to bake, I get a recipe from her, and a lot of times, some of the ingredients.  When I first moved out, I was in need of Crisco at 9:45PM for my first attempt at her delicious chocolate sheath cake.  When I called complaining about not having all the ingredients, she met me half way between our houses with a stick of hers.

5.       She works.  And actually enjoys it.  She likes her other two jobs, too.  I can hardly remember when my mama didn’t work at least one 2^nd job.  I can remember in 7^th grade when she told me she was getting a job at night and I cried.  I didn’t want her to be gone in the evenings, so she didn’t take the job.  When I find new opportunities to make a little extra cash, like night school and summer teaching positions, I remind myself of her.

I could go on and on, but like I said before, if you know me, you’ve got a good idea of who she is, too.  My friend’s husband said it best a few months back when talking to me about my mama, “what a sweet and fun lady.”  I couldn’t have said it better myself.     

My Teacher-Friend Lydia

Today is a good day!  It’s Friday; It’s the start of Spring Break; and Skip is home for the weekend.  Today is a really good day for my colleague and friend, Lydia.  Since she begins her maternity leave after Spring break, she is now officially a stay-at-home mom.  She is ecstatic.  I am a little depressed.  When I started at West, Lydia was my mentor.  I still use handouts she gave to me my first year teaching.  When I have a question about anything from West Block to Pep Rallies, I call Lydia.  Not sure who I’m going to call now.

Not only has Lydia been a wealth of WRHS information, she has been a great role model for me as a teacher.  Her students love her, but it’s not because she shows a lot of movies or grades on a curve.  It’s because she is a phenomenal teacher.  Students want to have their picture made with her at the prom; they friend her on Facebook the day of graduation.  A few weeks ago, I went over during her class to ask a question and got to sit in on the end of a lesson.  Just the thought of losing her talent in the classroom brought tears to my eyes.  Yes, she is that good. 

Lydia is also responsible, in part, for my decision to further my education.  Lydia participated in the National Writing Project several years before I attended the Summer Institute.  She recommended me for the program when I began graduate school.  She is the one who suggested that if I intended to get a Master’s Degree AND complete National Boards, I should attend grad school first and then try for boards.  When I hit a wall doing my thesis research, she lent me loads of books on writing and daybooks.  When I fussed over entry drafts for NB, she proofread for me and provided honest feedback.  She’s been a wonderful asset to me as an adult student. 

I can’t thank Lydia enough for being such a great part of the beginning of my teaching career.  I’m looking forward to seeing what’s in store for her in this exciting new chapter of her life.  One thing is for sure, whether she is inside the four walls of a classroom ever again or not, she will always be a teacher.   

I'm Back!

          I can’t believe that it’s been so long since I last wrote.  Over the past two months, there have been so many things that I have wanted to blog about, but I was working on National Boards in every moment of spare time I had.  I had to force myself to “analyze my teaching practices” instead of just writing for the sake of writing.  Since there’s no way to go back in time, here’s a short list of what I wish I could’ve said more about in the last two months.

1.       National Boards.  Something I jumped into without doing enough research.  I am not even sure I believe in the process, and I just invested a good bit of money and a ridiculous amount of time pursuing this certification.  I learned a lot about myself, so I am proud of that, but I am not convinced the portfolio truly reflects a teacher’s quality.  Having said that, I will gladly accept the pay increase and pat myself on the back if I do pass.

2.       Jenilee Kennedy.  My best friend of 18 years turned 29 last week.  We met on a cheerleading team (if you can believe that) in 6^th grade.  One of my favorite things about our friendship is that it’s easy and our love for each other is genuine.  To this day, Jenilee swears she did not realize that I was terribly overweight in college.  When she sees pictures now, she says she never remembers me being that heavy.  That’s love. 

3.       Weight Watchers.  Speaking of being overweight, I reached lifetime membership status at Weight Watchers six years ago last month and have maintained my goal weight (give or take a few pounds) ever since then.  I’ve worked for the company for five years and am still inspired by the stories of members changing their lives following the program.

4.       Bunker Ct.  We closed on our house a year ago in March.  As we began to collect materials to have our taxes completed, we were shocked at how little we made last year around this time.  We were planning a wedding, buying a house, taking on bigger monthly bills, and until June, Skip’s income was very unsteady and at times nonexistent.  It is abundantly clear to us that God’s provision brought us through this time and his blessings on us are incomprehensible. 

5.       Values vs. Priorities.  These are two words that Skip and I have discussed at length recently.  It’s been very hard for me to accept the fact that he is gone so much of the time and yet really enjoys his job.  At the height of my struggle with this, Pastor Keith preached a message straight to my heart about the difference between values and priorities.  Although Skip values me above his job, he has to make work a priority in order to provide for us and prepare for our future.  Skip owes Pastor Keith big time!

Football

           Today is a bittersweet day for me.  I love football, so the biggest game of the year excites me!  But, it’s also the last day of football for several months, so that’s a bummer.  Luckily, teaching at a “football school” means that the season is never really over.  With West Rowan’s recent State Champion 3 Peat, most people who find out I teach in Mount Ulla have something to say about our football team.  Someone asked me last week at church how I liked working at a “football school.”  Like isn’t the word for it.

Wednesday was National Signing day.  Five years ago on that day, I watched my future brother-in-law sign for a full athletic scholarship to Coastal Carolina University.  As Ben put on that teal and white ball cap and signed on the dotted line, I saw the relief in his parents’ faces as they realized his college education was paid in full.  He will graduate in May and enter the work force; his football career is over.  But, thanks to football, he has an education to start a traditional career.  Last year, five West Rowan football players signed full athletic scholarships; This past Wednesday, four more young men were awarded the same.  Several more players were not ready to commit, but have offers on the table and will play collegiately. 

Playing football at West doesn’t just make you a better athlete; it makes you a better student.  It motivates you to keep your grades up.  It makes you believe in yourself.  It gives you role models to look up to if there aren’t any at home.  It gives you somewhere to be afterschool from August to December that keeps you out of trouble.  It gives you an accountability and support system as big as a football field.

As a teacher, it doesn’t matter if a kid gets a scholarship for being an underwater basket weaver, it’s a great moment.  But few, if any, of the kids that signed on Wednesday would have gone to college on scholarships without athletics.  Having taught some of the boys, I would venture to say that one or two of them were at risk of not graduating at all before they got involved with football. Now, they are going to college- for free! 

So, how do I like working at a football school?  I love it.  Go Falcons.

Snow Day

I was glad to see the snow come, and boy, will I be glad to see it go!  There’s always the good, the bad, and the ugly with snow days as a teacher: the good, no school; the bad, make up days; the ugly, Saturday school!  Next Saturday will be my very first Saturday school since starting to teach 7 years ago.  There is minor consolation that Skip ALWAYS has to work on Saturday, so I’m in good company.  Speaking of Skip, there’s more "good" to share.

Skip got to leave the shop around 4:30pm Monday.  Rather than hurrying home, he went on an adventure to find a snow shovel and some salt to prepare our driveway and sidewalk.  Although he was unsuccessful in finding a shovel, he hit the jackpot with a jumbo tub of sidewalk salt.  Instead of heading home with his treasure, he headed to Mom’s house.  He cleaned off her car and her porch and headed home after 6:30pm!  After we ate dinner, he finished his work preparing our house for the incoming ice.

Even with all the preparation, Skip had a terrible time trying to get to work this morning.  On his second try, he got up our treacherous road and headed into work, slipping and sliding all the way.  Before getting out of Enochville, he realized it just wasn’t worth it after nearly sliding into a ditch.  When he turned around to head home, he found 3 cars in the same ditch he scarcely avoided.  Two HOURS later, he had helped over 10 cars out of the ditch and was back at home.  He helped a sixteen year old boy, a young woman driving alone, and several slightly embarrassed older men.  The worker at the gas station near the ditch offered Skip coffee or hot chocolate for all his hard work. 

I jokingly called him Robin Hood for the rest of the day, but I really was impressed with his willingness to help others.  He never gets to leave work early or have a day off to just be lazy.  If it were me, I would’ve come straight home both days and parked myself on the couch (actually, that’s exactly what I did!).  But that’s not Skip’s way.  He is regularly putting others before himself and acting like it’s no big deal.  But, it is a big deal.  HE is a big deal.  I’m glad he’s mine.