It’s late, but here I sit…catching up on DWTS…watching the episode that I DVR’d earlier.
As I listened to Hope Solo’s personal story…her troubled childhood and her struggles to reconnect with her father…her ups and downs in her soccer career…I was moved…to tears in fact.
And then I think back to earlier in the evening when I watched the national news and, specifically, the incredibly shocking story about Penn State’s coaching controversy.
That story both sickens and saddens me.
I was reminded that everyone has a story.
We have moments that define us.
I can’t help but wonder if it is only in the darkest times that our truest characters are pounded out.
The way I look at it, happy times of celebration end in the blink of an eye; whereas, strenuous times of struggle seem to last forever, thus imposing upon us longer-lasting…if not permanent…impressions upon our lives.
I look at the young students I teach, and I listen to their stories.
They are shocking, and they are heartbreaking.
I often wonder how kids that young can endure such hardships…difficult circumstances that have left indelible marks upon their spirits.
And then I reflect back on my own childhood…fraught with its own dark, lonely years and experiences.
It is then that I realize that it was in those times when much of my life was defined.
Just as it is in my students’ lives.
And just as it has been in these stars’ and athletes’ lives.
How will these moments define us?
These are choices that we all must make as we decide how to play the hands we’re dealt.
I’m going to steal this quote that one of my church’s youth pastors posted on Facebook tonight:
Being ‘unashamed’ about Christ isn’t just a refusal to deny Him. It’s being brave enough to never be silent about Him.
This really hit home with me…especially after the morning’s sermon.
My church recently celebrated its 100-year anniversary. It was a momentous milestone in this day and age.
My church just purchased a venue in which it will be able to serve the community through innovative ways, and so the sermons lately have been about looking forward and just what, exactly, we Christians are called to.
No matter where we go, whether it’s across the world or across town, we are called to spread the love of God and news of His Son’s sacrifice for the lost.
We are called to do so in word and deed.
I am the first to admit that my actions and words do not always reflect my love for the Lord…I am still a sinner, after all, but one saved through grace. Yet, I do strive to serve God with all of my heart, and I’ve always welcomed and, in fact, embraced the opportunity to tell others about Him.
It’s not because I think it’s my job to “save” the world.
It’s simply because I am so GRATEFUL for what God has done, and my heart hurts for those who can’t see the TRUTH.
As I listened to the morning’s sermon and later read my friend’s words, I was taken back to a time not too long ago when I was told to be silent about Jesus.
The mandate pained me greatly…caused much angst in my soul.
You see, when you love the Lord and seek to serve Him, it goes against your nature NOT to speak up.
It’s like trying to hold back flood waters pushing against man-made barriers…sand bags, if you will.
We take so much for granted in this country.
Most Christians who live in the United States will never know the true meaning of bravely speaking up for Jesus.
At least not in the sense that Christians in other parts of the world do.
Yet, our resolve does get tested in the pressures of everyday life…situations in which we don’t want to appear “different” by going against the grain.
Sometimes, situations preclude us from speaking up…in the name of “political correctness.”
How would you feel, though, if your father publicly denied you…withheld His support and love from you in front of others…and passed by silently as if He never knew you?
It would sadden me, and I think it would cause others to wonder what kind of relationship I really had with my “supposed” father.
I, AuburnChick, am not ashamed, and I will never be silenced.
Does this mean that I will run around trying to convert people?
Nope.
God does that all on His own.
What it does mean is that if someone asks me if I love Jesus, I will proudly answer, “Yes.”
Will you go beyond not denying Him and actually speak up?
I’m cheap, though, and I will wear the heck out of my shoes, refusing to throw them out just because styles change.
It should not have surprised me when I encountered a little problem after school a few days ago…
I had known that the shoes were on their way out.
The clue?
When I was driving and thought I had gum on the bottom of my shoes. You see, they kept sticking to the pedals. Turns out that the bottoms had split in half across the soles.
Still, I managed to get a few more days out of them.
Well, upon having them come completely apart, I set them aside.
It was time to go shoe shopping.
Unfortunately, Kohl’s didn’t have much to offer. Dang. I even had a 15% coupon.
Today, the Mr. and I headed to Dillards.
I needed a pair of shoes. It’s getting cold down here in Florida, and I have soccer games to attend.
I tried on four or five pairs of shoes before settling on a pair…
Yes, that’s the German brand.
Are you jealous yet?
Slides…very important to me so I can show off my knitted socks.
It’s going to be sad when I select my attire based on these shoes matching everything, eh?
My feet are happy.
The bank account is not.
The shoes were pricey.
Hopefully, it will be years before they succumb to the fate of the other pair…
About three years ago, during my subbing days, I witnessed a student refusing to say the Pledge of Allegiance or even act respectfully as it was being played over the school’s television circuit.
Afterwards, I said a little something to the student about it. I realize we all have the right not to pay homage to our country, but I was still disappointed.
She told me, “Well, I hate America.”
She had no clue.
I saw the following image online today, and I really wish I could have had it in my hand that day to show her…
Though she was a teenager, you can never be too young to appreciate the fact that others willingly choose to put their lives on the line daily to guarantee our freedom. You’re never too young to be thankful for those who went before and DID pay that price.
On this Veteran’s Day, let us remember, and let us be thankful.
It can be a process of transformation for the person willing to be changed.
Oh, I’m not talking about the students.
I’m talking about those doing the teaching.
With my hectic month of training behind me, I’ve been in my classroom every day…maintaining a consistent routine…consistent expectations.
It’s been a tough couple of weeks, full of ups and downs, but finally, I’m witnessing a transformation…
In myself.
I’m finding myself growing more confident as I settle in.
I’m finding myself more empathetic as I hear students ask for food. They really are hungry.
I’m watching them respond as I meet basic, day-to-day needs that might seem, at first glance, to have nothing to do with academics.
I’m starting to recognize signs of deep anger and learning not to take them personally. Such signs are reactions to circumstances outside of my classroom.
I’m working desperately to create an atmosphere conducive to learning…one of calm, so often rare for the students who enter my room.
My heart is melting a little more each day, despite the pressure of teaching intensive reading and all of the misconceptions that go along with it.
I’ve watched and listened as adults respond with comments such as “Wow” and lowered eyes when they find out what I teach.
I’m proud to say that I’m a reading teacher because I know that lives are being touched and changed…simply because my perspective and understanding are changing.
In a way, the process is similar to what sinners go through when they accept the redeeming work of Jesus’s sacrifice.
It’s only through the process of transformation that permanent change comes about…change that has the power to affect others’ lives as well.
Though some days are difficult, I always look for silver linings. I always look for ways to improve. I always look for ways to allow the difficult circumstances to transform my own life so that I can be a more effective teacher who leaves a permanent, positive imprint on my students’ lives.
It’s a process that can’t and won’t happen overnight.
Regardless of how and when it happens, I’m grateful that it is, and I welcome the person I’m becoming.
Ahhh…Wednesday…how I love thee, for it’s the day of Joyce’s Hodgepodge! Join in the fun. Post your own answers and link back up on Joyce’s blog!
1. Of all the tools and gadgets you own, which do you most enjoy using?
Oh, I love DIY projects. If you’ve been reading my blog for the last couple of years, you know this about me already. My favorite tool…hmmm…that would be hard to choose. I’ll keep it simple by saying that the hammer is my favorite tool. There’s just something very satisfying about hitting a nail as hard as you can. It’s the perfect excuse to get out some much needed aggression.
Hmmm…I seem to have a few issues, do I not?
Seriously, I kid. About the aggression part. Still, I do like my hammer, and I’ve found it so handy that I keep one in my desk drawer at school!
2. When (if ever) is impatience a virtue?
I have found that impatience is a virtue when it prevents me from waiting for others to do things for me. Take, for instance, my desire to get things fixed in my household. Traditionally, I think it’s considered the man’s job to handle household fix-it jobs. If I waited for the Mr., I’d never get anything done (no offense to the guy…I just like to keep things real). I’ve learned to depend on myself and have discovered that I’m capable of much more than I ever thought.
3. What temperature do you keep your thermostat set to in winter? Do you have another way to heat your house besides a furnace of some type?
When I was paying the electric bill, the heater did not get turned on until at least December. I kept it set to around 65, if I was having mercy on my family. We’re a hand-to-mouth kind of family…never had much extra $$ to spend on this sort of thing…and when I got laid off a few years ago, things got even tighter. My family was not amused when icicles began growing from their noses.
Now that the Mr. is footing the bill, I think we’ll be allowed to bump up the thermostat to at least 66 degrees. 😉
We have an electric fireplace, but I don’t think that’s what Joyce was talking about when she asked about alternative ways to heat the house. I don’t have any other way except by layering up with long johns, sweats, robes, and blankets. Oh yeah, I also curl up with my furry babies.
4. Do/did you have a close relationship with any of your grandparents?
My grandparents lived in Canada and France. I was never close to any of them. In fact, this lack of closeness, both in proximity and actual relationship, has probably led to my inability to deal with large family crowds. I simply cannot cope with too many people around. I never got used to it as a child, and now I prefer my small, immediate clan.
5. When did you last have a family portrait taken?
We went on a cruise to Alaska this past July. We had several family portraits taken during that trip.
6. What does the word “patriotism” mean to you?
Patriotism means believing in and supporting your country with unabashed energy and fervor. Patriotism is giving up your own desires for the good of others and the world-at-large…even at the risk of your life. Patriotism is more than a feeling…it is action, both by those clad in uniforms and those left behind to tend the home fires. Patriotism is honoring those who went before us, paving the way to the freedoms that we now enjoy. May we never forget their sacrifices.
7. Do you like to play cards, and, if so, what’s your favorite card game?
I’m not much of a card player…never had much of a desire. However, my sister and I love to play 500 (is it called this?). I think some people may call it Rummy. We never called it that while we were growing up. Every time Super Sis and I get together, we play this game at least once…until one of us reaches 500 points. Let the record show that I creamed her on the plane to Seattle…when we were enroute to our cruise.
8. My Random Thought
I received a text from Chicky the other day. She’d attached the following picture…
Yes, that’s her ankle, and yes, that’s a tattoo.
It’s an Ithicus (Christian fish), with a reference to Galatians 6:17:
From now on, let no one cause me trouble, for I bear on my body the marks of Jesus.
Now, she doesn’t look like the kind of gal who would be sporting a tattoo. She’s very clean-cut. She has an All-American kind of look.
She’s now an All-American girl with a tattoo.
How do I feel about this?
Well, first of all, I knew she was going to get one. She’d asked me about my thoughts on the subject last summer.
Fortunately, I’d pondered this a number of years ago when my children were young, and we were living in South Florida where you see every sort of tattoo and body piercing known to man.
I once had a conversation with a person who was completely against tattoos. I expressed my feelings in the following way:
If my children grew up (past tense because they were young at the time) to love God and serve Him, and all they wanted to do was get a tattoo, then who was I to say no? After all, a person who has a tattoo isn’t necessarily a bad person (man judges by outside appearances while the Lord looks upon the heart). Sure, tattoos give people reason to pause, and some people may even judge a person for said tattoo(s); however, I, as a mom to Christian, God-fearing children, would not sit in judgment of their decision. I figured it was all about the big picture.
In a way, I’m proud of Chicky for making her own decision. She’s almost twenty, and I don’t want her living her life based on other people’s principles. I trust that she’s praying over these types of decisions, and if she’s not, then that’s between her and God. Who am I to say, and who am I to judge?
I’m anxious to see my girl. She comes home next weekend. I can’t wait to see her little adornment in real life, but most of all, I can’t wait to put my arms around this child who God has blessed me with, tattooed or not.
One of my favorite methods of torture goes something like this…
I’m driving us home from somewhere, be-bopping along on a certain road.
As we near THE intersection, I inhale, wondering if he’s paying attention to the actual driving.
At the last possible moment, I slow down to make the right turn, fully anticipating the rant that is sure to follow.
He doesn’t ever, ever let me down.
“Mama, how many times do I have to tell you that you are going the slowest way home!”
Now, here’s the thing.
See, to get home this certain way, you’ve eventually got to turn right.
Rooster and the Mr. prefer to drive down the first road for a bit longer and make the turn a little further up the road.
I, on the other hand, think that it’s best to go head and make the turn, then make the turn left toward home, then meet up at the corner where they’ll eventually wind up anyway…the corner where Podunk High School is located.
Now, granted, the speed limit on my chosen road is 25mph, and driving this small stretch takes, perhaps, a few more seconds than the other way, which is 45mph.
However, there’s no traffic light going my way, and there is one the other way.
Regardless, this short segment of the drive never fails to evoke strong emotions from the boy child.
I find it hysterical and a bit of payback for the angst he regularly puts me through…forgetfulness, spaciness…etc.
The one thing I’m disappointed in is that I’m not raising my boy properly. Obviously, arguing with a woman about directions is a trait that’s prewired into a male’s DNA.
So, to Rooster’s future wife, I apologize.
I tried.
I honestly did.
I tried to desensitize him to illogical driving methodology.
He never bought it though.
Oh well. At least I’m having fun…albeit at the expense of his sanity.
Last Thursday night, Podunk High School had its last home football game for the season.
As such, it was dubbed “Senior Night.”
The school would be honoring the senior members of the football team, cheerleading squad, and band.
As you know, Rooster is a senior this year.
I wasn’t sure how I felt going into the evening. I figured I would be a bit emotional.
The presentation was held right before the game started.
It was very well organized.
Moms were given beautiful corsages to wear…
The football players were announced first, followed by the cheerleaders.
The band went third.
It was obvious that they had saved the best for last.
😉
We were lined up alphabetically.
Band members were dressed in their formal uniforms.
At nearly six feet tall, Rooster towered over the Mr. and me.
We enjoyed some light conversation as we waited on the sideline. We even joked with other parents about performing silly antics when it was our turn in the limelight. After all, it was our time to shine. We’d waited for this moment for a long time.
There were people posted along the way. I think they were there to direct us, but as we paused at each stopping point, we were congratulated with warm words and firm handshakes.
We made our way to the 40-yard line.
We paused.
We walked from the sideline to the middle of the field and paused again.
I put my arm through Rooster’s crooked elbow.
As I laid my hand on his uniform-clad arm, I felt the seriousness of the moment.
We moved forward to the 50-yard line…the center of the field…and made a sharp turn left.
We were facing the ROTC members who were lined up with their swords held aloft to form a canopy…
That's not us, but I wanted you to see what it looked like from the stands. I took this picture after we had finished our turn.
We took a deep breath.
I prayed that I wouldn’t do something dumb like trip over my own feet.
The administrator doing the announcing was my sweet friend, Carol. She’s been a big supporter of mine. I knew she would say my name properly (silent “h”).
It seemed surreal…making that short walk with Rooster.
I felt such pride in the amazing young man standing beside me.
His strong arm propelled me forward…toward a future that will one day see him leaving home to begin his new adventure as a college student.
We stopped for the “official” picture…the moment captured for posterity…our smiles reflecting our joy…mine masking the bittersweet feelings inside.
I didn’t have much time for musing though. The ROTC presented colors after all of the seniors had been recognized…
The football team ran through the spirit banner…the last time many of those guys would play as the home team…
The rain that fell during the opposing team’s halftime show did nothing to dampen spirits…
By the time Podunk High School’s band took the field, the rain had stopped. However, the woodwind section had put all of their instruments away to protect them, so they hummed the notes while they marched and held up invisible instruments. I wish I could show you photos, but I don’t want to post pictures of the students’ faces. It was quite a sight though!
After halftime, the drumline settled in on the track and played various cadences. This has always been one of my favorite portions of the games…
Look at those wet drums!
I didn’t arrive home until after ten o’clock.
It had been a long, emotional day.
I was beat.
It was my last Senior Night.
I wondered, as I do even now while I’m typing this, where the time went.
It seems like only a few days ago when Chicky was walking across the soccer field for her Senior Night. Now, she’s a sophomore in college.
Soon, I’ll be bidding adieu to my boy…my easy-going (most of the time) child who seems to genuinely enjoy hanging out with me.
The formality of the evening…uniform, corsage, ROTC swords…made everything seem so official.
And it was.
And it continues to be.
I can’t turn back time.
I can’t even will it to slow down.
All I can do is march along with it, do the best I can to keep up, and enjoy every moment.
On Saturday, Rooster and I enjoyed several hours of vegging in front of the television. We had several DVR’d shows to watch. We enjoy the same shows, so this can count as “quality time” because of the conversations that are often generated from the shows.
Of course, there was killing and profiling and chasing the bad guy.
It was a difficult episode to watch, but then things got interesting.
See, the gist of the plot (sorry if I’m going to ruin this for you) is that the killer is killing people, then resuscitating them to find out what they’ve seen of the afterlife because, in his younger life, the killer had died. He had, for years, been haunted by the fact that arms were reaching out from behind him, preventing him from going toward the “light.”
Deep stuff.
Rooster and I looked at each other in the realization that this episode was taking a very deep turn.
Two of the main characters expressed that they’d had after-death experiences, but both of them had been different…one of them able to run to the light and the other person had been held back.
Can you say S-C-A-R-Y?
Why, you may ask?
Well, if you’re a Christian, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
Each person who doesn’t acknowledge the saving grace of Jesus Christ will not live in the light after he or she passes away.
There will be arms reaching out, preventing the unsaved, from entering heaven.
The Bible states that there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth in hell.
I wonder if those arms reaching out from the dark represented the things in this life that had held the television show’s characters from accepting Jesus as Savior…false religions, selfish ambitions, belief that people can earn their way to heaven through good deeds.
Folks, there are a lot of misguided people in this world. There are NOT many paths to heaven.
There is only one…through Jesus Christ.
This is not religious intolerance.
It is, quite simply, TRUTH.
Every time I hear of someone passing away…famous (Andy Rooney) or not…I wonder…
Did that person embrace Jesus as the breath left his or her body, or did the person find him/herself overwhelmed by a darkness that will never, ever go away?
This scares me more than anything in the world.
There are too many kind, “good” people walking around thinking they’ve got things figured out. What a shame when they find out otherwise.
I hope that the Criminal Minds episode leads people to really consider what lies beyond this temporary, earthly life…what they will be running toward in the end.
I know you’re feeling neglected lately, but I have very good reasons.
See, there’s this little thing called “teaching,” which, for some crazy reason, I decided to immerse myself into. My classes spent all week learning about textbook mapping…how to break down lengthy bulks of text into smaller, more manageable pieces.
First, we took a chapter from their science book and taped it on the wall…
Then, we took a tour of the pages and learned how chapter headings tell us what every page is about, section headings tell us what each respective section is about, headings break information down further, and subheadings form the smallest units of information.
Because we’re visual people, we circled the categories in different colors…right there on the wall…
You see, dear blog, people…namely young learners…tend to give up if a teacher tells them that they’re going to have a test on forty pages of material. Students need to learn that writers organize information in certain ways to help them learn better.
We spent one day of the week doing the same exercise all over again, only this time, students worked in groups…
It was a little loud, but the noises were from students trying to work together to tape, circle, and fill out the worksheets that went along with the project…
The next day, students got to do this again…no group work…with a smaller portion of a chapter…just to check for understanding.
But that wasn’t all that we did in class…hence more reasons why I didn’t have much energy or time to write much this week. See, a couple of weeks ago, I attended a Kagan training seminar, and what good is learning if you don’t put the new knowledge into practice?
So, my sweet friend, as in Barb, that is, stayed late after school with me, and we put my students into new groups, factoring in assessment scores, personalities, and discipline issues…
I put supplies into small boxes (thanks, Coupon Queen), so that students would have the markers they needed for the textbook mapping. I also added pencils, because somehow kids eat them on their way to school and manage to show up to class without them. The last thing that went into the boxes were highlighters and tape. Each group had its own box…
As I closed my door late Wednesday afternoon, my room looked like this…
It was coming together, albeit slowly.
When I got home, I made color-coded notecards with each student’s name on it, listed according to class period. I was nervous how my kids would react to their new seating arrangements. To my surprise, they were extremely pleased. Nine weeks of sitting beside the same people had gotten old…
Sprinkled into the week was an introduction to vocabulary. I figured that it would be best not to assume that everyone knew the definitions for the parts of speech, so we had a review, and I wrote them down on sentence strips. Look at me with my teacher handwriting…
I had purchased notebooks for my students…adding what I was lacking to what Coupon Queen had given me a few weeks ago. She’s been very generous with the school supplies, and though I don’t always act like a good daughter-in-law, I am very appreciative of what she does for me.
I was assigned a TA (teaching assistant) this week, and I put him to use, organizing files, adding the labels to the notebooks, and going through my students’ hanging folders to organize their worksheets.
Thanks to Halloween, I had a surplus of candy, and I used it to thank my TA.
Oh gosh, but see dear Blog, you might think that despite the above going-ons (not a word, but I don’t care), I still could have squeezed out time to write, but see, I got a little emotional this week.
Barb was in my classroom a lot this week…modeling the textbook mapping lessons…observing my students in action.
Being a teacher with over twenty years of experience, she’s learned what is and isn’t acceptable behavior, and some of my kids…well…let’s just say that they needed some firm reminders that all would not continue as it had been.
It appears as if I’ve been too nice at times. She helped me be nice to the students who want to learn by writing up kids whose actions went a little too far.
Still, it was a hard week, and my emotions got the better of me as I wrote up four students one day. Three of them were easy. The fourth one did me in.
My students are very special to me, and I’m trying desperately to reach every single one of them while giving them a quality education.
Some days just don’t work out that well, despite all good intentions.
Poor Barb. She’s got the patience of a saint, and she’s been such an encouragement to me. After I blubbered in her office Wednesday afternoon, she still returned to my classroom on Thursday, bearing these…
And yes, that’s a Starbucks cup you see. After I’d drained if of the Peppermint Hot Chocolate (made with soy and no whip…still adhering to my vegan diet), I put the flowers inside.
Look how pretty they were, sitting in the front of my room…
Thursday was a better day. It must have been the flowers.
Barb wasn’t at school on Friday. Her son is a senior, and she had taken him to Southeastern for a tour and soccer tryout. He’s an amazing player. I’d like to think that while she’s been mentoring me with my teaching skills, I’ve been mentoring her on the letting go of children thing (I don’t think I’m doing a good job in this department…maybe she needs some flowers).
Anyhoo, we chatted on the phone after school, and she asked how I’d done without her.
Can I just say that Friday was AMAZING??!! It must have been her leadership all week. My kids, completely adapted to their new seating arrangements and my new techniques for getting their attention, were incredibly cooperative and thrilled with that day’s lesson.
We had a new kind of bellwork…making words out of the word “Thanksgiving.” Making it into a contest, using a Kagan strategy to share the results, and offering candy to the victors got class started off on a positive note.
They watched the following School House Rock videos to refresh their memories about what nouns, adjectives, and verbs were…
Then, we watched a video about prefixes, suffixes, and root words. Their vocabulary for the while will be these all-important word parts. Let me just say that my students LOVED the video!!
After we finished watching this video, I showed them the video I had created to introduce their words. First period was a little freaked out because it was my voice — only in a serious voice. We stopped frequently to check for understanding and create sentences that contained the words…to help with contextual understanding…
Discipline-wise, my students were excellent. One of my students started to make a bad decision. He’s been one that’s been challenging all year. However, I nipped it in the bud by doing the following. I took a Discipline Referral (DR) form, sat at the desk beside him, and proceeded to fill it in, leaving out the date and time.
I could see him watching me. He even argued that he had not done such-and-such.
I simply pointed to the part I’d written about him arguing loudly with me.
Then, I looked over at him and whispered that he had the choice about whether or not I filled in the date and time. If he chose to misbehave, those sections would be completed, and the DR would be turned in. The alternative was to cooperate and complete his class assignments.
He made a good choice. The DR is still sitting on my desk.
Small victories…which I shared with Barb on the phone.
So Blog, as you can see, my week was busy. I mean, I haven’t even stopped to tell you about Podunk High School’s Senior Night.
I will.
Perhaps tomorrow.
If I have time.
I hope you’ll forgive me. I still treasure our time together. In fact, I feel a little like my students…about to burst with the desire to “talk.”
Don’t give up on me. I’m doing the best I can in the hours that God allotted to each day.
AuburnChick's Adventures 