I am writing now in an attempt to capture the beauty, pain and turmoil of anticipation. Tonight I ready my home just in case we are blessed to care for a foster baby who needs our family's love. About two weeks ago, my children and I were made aware of the possible need of our home for foster care of a medically fragile infant who was born opioid addicted. Today we received word that he may arrive to our home tomorrow...or, he may not. For two weeks he has fought a battle, the harshness and pain of which most of us will never experience in our lives. Hospital staff have worked to soothe him away from the addiction that riddled his body. And so, at this point, we await word of whether or not his birth parents will sign the papers surrendering their parental rights. If they do sign, he goes home to adoptive parents who are waiting for him to be their son. If they don't sign, he will come to our home until his future is decided. Over the past two weeks, and exponentially multiplied now, my heart has taken this baby and his parents, both birth and adoptive, into its loving embrace. My prayers abound and so in this moment I feel it is imperative to share the thoughts and emotions running through my core as I attempt to be mindful and in the moment.
First, the baby: Innocence. Born to live the first two weeks of his life in turmoil. Older people require years to overcome addiction. The pain is shared. The fear is lived and relived. The withdrawal is more than many can handle, and so they go back to the very drug that brings them such pain. Here is this little baby. He had no choice. He has been withdrawing from the evil for two weeks instead of spending these precious moments in the arms of a mother who was able to love him in that way. The future implications of his gestation and the first two weeks of his life are uncertain. And he unfortunately has company of many others. Other babies are born to the same or similar painful beginnings every-single-day. How many of us take the time to think of these babies? We know addiction, and in particular the epidemic of opioid addiction, is excruciating. But I know that I am guilty of not having given it much thought until it was put in front of me and my children in the form of a possible new foster child entering our home. My question always is, as it has been these weeks as I contemplated and cried for this baby I have never met, "What more should I be doing?"
Next, the parents: It is all too easy to point fingers, lay blame, feel anger at the people who brought a child into the world in this way. Please stop. I guarantee it was not a choice made in any way similar to how most are able to make choices. My heart breaks for the birth parents, but as a mom myself, I feel especially connected to the mother. I know she is as in love with her baby as I was with all of mine. If she signs papers tonight, the baby will go to his adoptive family immediately upon discharge tomorrow. If she doesn't, he will come to my home. Either way, because of her addiction, she is unable to adequately care for and parent this little boy that she carried inside her body for the term of his gestation. She is not, I am sure, flippantly making the decisions with which she is confronted. If opioid addiction was something she could easily toss aside in order to care for her baby, I am certain she would do so. For her, the most loving thing to do might be to sign away her parental rights. Can you imagine??? Addiction... It is evil. It is controlling. It is debilitating. Can I imagine anything that would stand between my children and me? No. But neither have I ever been in the grips of addiction. The life of one held captive by addiction is not easy and choices, many times, are not theirs to make. And so, for this mom and dad, my heart weeps. I cannot imagine what these past two weeks have held for them, and the continued torment they will live. Nope. No judgement here, just more tears of frustration and loathing for the evils of our world.
Can't forget the hospital staff: Hearts of steel plated gold! The strength they muster in order to care for these babies and their parents through such traumatic events is amazing! There are birth parent counselors, doctors, nurses, each taking on a role in the lives of these new babies. Holding them as they cry, feeding them through withdrawal, loving them as they experience their first days of a harsh new world, harsher to them as their bodies yearn for the drug they have come to need. These are people in line with you at Quick Check or the supermarket. Parents of your child's classmates. Regular folks called to do amazing work. They expend their emotional and physical energy for the benefit of babies and parents. Parents who, by default, feel victimized, ostracized and judged, and so might not find it in their ability to thank the very folks who are working to save lives. And so, we must thank them as a society. The service they provide goes far beyond that which most are called to take on.
Finally, the adoptive parents: In all of my fostering, it has been about 8 years now, I have never been in the position of the adoptive parents, and I do not envy the plethora of feelings they must endure. I have met and spoken with many parents of adoption. The wait for these parents tonight goes well beyond my need to plan for a possible short term foster placement. Can you imagine not knowing whether or not your son will come home tomorrow when released from the hospital? Or if he will be your son at all? Imagine the inner turmoil of rooting for parental surrender of rights...that is harsh. I believe the pain of adoption is real. The not knowing. The questions. The necessary abandon of all control of the situation. And the hope...all the hope.
And so, with the anticipation of the possible arrival of this baby in our home, I ask you to try to keep these children and all involved in this little corner of life, in your minds. Those of you who are fellow teachers should know that these are the children of your future. In fact, they are the children of your present...there are stories in your classrooms that will make you shudder, if you take the time to know them. These are human stories, and we are all called to take them into our hearts, as my children and I have done for the past two weeks, let them fester there and make you feel what they have to offer. It is not pleasant, but it is real. There are several dimensions to every story, and it is up to us, not to judge, but to love the children and parents though it all. We are in this life together! I'll keep you posted...meanwhile, let me go set up a crib... just in case.
Wednesday, July 31, 2019
Saturday, July 27, 2019
Keeping Your Side of the Street Clean
There is a sentiment in AA that reminds us we need only worry about keeping our side of the street clean. An alcoholic must focus on considering and controlling only his or her actions in order to remain on the straight and narrow path of sobriety. There is no blaming of others, nor is there reliance on others for one's personal success. Whether struggling with addiction or not, we can all learn from the lessons in The Little Blue Book. The concept of only worrying about your side of the street comes in handy in all walks of life.
Repeatedly this week I have been invited to consider the negative bent of others, and to attempt to decipher my role in quelling virulence of such individuals. How much are we responsible for responding to, or helping to change the ways of those who are hell-bent on negativity and the tearing down of others? The answer is, not at all. If my example can teach others to walk a positive path, that is great. But arguing with negative people will never lead to their optimistic enlightenment, and so to do so is fruitless. As I was considering this, I was brought back to my teaching situation about twenty years ago, and I invite you now to consider this scenario:
I had been teaching for 6 years, but was new to the public school setting. I was the teacher in a class of children who had the special education label at the time of Emotionally Disturbed. My principal wanted nothing more than to know that I would keep the children under control and isolated in my classroom. He was not a fan of the students I loved, and gave the impression that they would be better housed anywhere but in his building. As such, he and I didn't always see eye-to-eye. I recall once in front of my class and others that were passing in the hallways, he was yelling at me so vehemently that the red was creeping up his neck to his face...One of my students had stabbed another with her pencil, and he wanted to know how I could possibly have missed catching this before it happened. In his mind, I must have been sitting back, eyes closed, enjoying Bon Bons (if you are too young to know what they are, look them up!) instead of paying attention to my students. Clearly, he had limited experience with the kids in my class and how stealthily they could inflict their torment. Anyway, as the red traveled north to his forehead, I calmly stated, "Please do not yell at me." His answer, "I AM NOT YELLING AT YOU!" My reply, "OK, then please do not speak to me that way." He tried to get himself under control, couldn't, and so he stormed away. I remember considering the ironic similarities between my students' and this adult educator's behavior. Anyway, I needed you to understand my relationship with this man in order to appreciate the next chapter of the story.
There was one particular young boy in my class whose father was unhappy with his placement. The negative connotations of being in a classroom for children labeled "Emotionally Disturbed" trumped the father's ability to see that his son needed smaller class size, a more intimate student to teacher ratio, and a plan to help him control his physical outbursts. The father could not appreciate that his son was now finding school success, was smiling daily, and was generally proud of himself. Instead, the dad staged a "strike", which he planned for a particular morning as buses were scheduled to arrive for school. Dad went about it all legally, informing police of his intentions. My principal was a wreck leading up to this event. At an 'emergency' faculty meeting, he warned teachers about their drive in to school on that day, and glanced in my direction to indicate that the student in question was mine. You see, his nervousness came from his inability to keep his side of the street clean. His whole block was a mess of ego and self-centeredness. I was doing my job, loving that student with all my heart, and following the plan in place to help this child find success. My side was clean, my heart was calm.
When I see comments on Twitter that are negative, hear people spewing their vitriol instead of appreciating education's advances, or when I find someone rolling their eyes as others celebrate successes, I just smile. I think of that man, red creeping up his neck practically lighting a neon sign atop his head that said, "Don't listen to me. I don't care about you, so you don't need to care about what I have to say." OK, that's a really long neon sign, but you get the idea. It is not the negative comments of others that should spend time in your head. Read them and move on. Hear them, and smile and nod. You can do that if your side of the street is clean and you live in the knowledge that you are doing the right thing at all times. Then listen to those that love you. Not just the "yes" folks, though I know listening to them feels good. Listen mostly to the folks that are not afraid to tell you if you messed up, but who are also there to celebrate your successes. They are the ones who will be there with you enjoying a block party you host on your nice clean side of the street.
Repeatedly this week I have been invited to consider the negative bent of others, and to attempt to decipher my role in quelling virulence of such individuals. How much are we responsible for responding to, or helping to change the ways of those who are hell-bent on negativity and the tearing down of others? The answer is, not at all. If my example can teach others to walk a positive path, that is great. But arguing with negative people will never lead to their optimistic enlightenment, and so to do so is fruitless. As I was considering this, I was brought back to my teaching situation about twenty years ago, and I invite you now to consider this scenario:
I had been teaching for 6 years, but was new to the public school setting. I was the teacher in a class of children who had the special education label at the time of Emotionally Disturbed. My principal wanted nothing more than to know that I would keep the children under control and isolated in my classroom. He was not a fan of the students I loved, and gave the impression that they would be better housed anywhere but in his building. As such, he and I didn't always see eye-to-eye. I recall once in front of my class and others that were passing in the hallways, he was yelling at me so vehemently that the red was creeping up his neck to his face...One of my students had stabbed another with her pencil, and he wanted to know how I could possibly have missed catching this before it happened. In his mind, I must have been sitting back, eyes closed, enjoying Bon Bons (if you are too young to know what they are, look them up!) instead of paying attention to my students. Clearly, he had limited experience with the kids in my class and how stealthily they could inflict their torment. Anyway, as the red traveled north to his forehead, I calmly stated, "Please do not yell at me." His answer, "I AM NOT YELLING AT YOU!" My reply, "OK, then please do not speak to me that way." He tried to get himself under control, couldn't, and so he stormed away. I remember considering the ironic similarities between my students' and this adult educator's behavior. Anyway, I needed you to understand my relationship with this man in order to appreciate the next chapter of the story.
There was one particular young boy in my class whose father was unhappy with his placement. The negative connotations of being in a classroom for children labeled "Emotionally Disturbed" trumped the father's ability to see that his son needed smaller class size, a more intimate student to teacher ratio, and a plan to help him control his physical outbursts. The father could not appreciate that his son was now finding school success, was smiling daily, and was generally proud of himself. Instead, the dad staged a "strike", which he planned for a particular morning as buses were scheduled to arrive for school. Dad went about it all legally, informing police of his intentions. My principal was a wreck leading up to this event. At an 'emergency' faculty meeting, he warned teachers about their drive in to school on that day, and glanced in my direction to indicate that the student in question was mine. You see, his nervousness came from his inability to keep his side of the street clean. His whole block was a mess of ego and self-centeredness. I was doing my job, loving that student with all my heart, and following the plan in place to help this child find success. My side was clean, my heart was calm.
When I see comments on Twitter that are negative, hear people spewing their vitriol instead of appreciating education's advances, or when I find someone rolling their eyes as others celebrate successes, I just smile. I think of that man, red creeping up his neck practically lighting a neon sign atop his head that said, "Don't listen to me. I don't care about you, so you don't need to care about what I have to say." OK, that's a really long neon sign, but you get the idea. It is not the negative comments of others that should spend time in your head. Read them and move on. Hear them, and smile and nod. You can do that if your side of the street is clean and you live in the knowledge that you are doing the right thing at all times. Then listen to those that love you. Not just the "yes" folks, though I know listening to them feels good. Listen mostly to the folks that are not afraid to tell you if you messed up, but who are also there to celebrate your successes. They are the ones who will be there with you enjoying a block party you host on your nice clean side of the street.
Friday, July 19, 2019
Never Retreat: Respond with Optimism, Kindness and Love
Let me begin with a disclaimer: The topic of today's post is not something that has never occurred to me before, nor is it going to be new learning for anyone reading. Much like the concepts of the direction of the toilet flush or how my voice travels from my face to a phone thousands of miles (or even just one mile) away, it is one of those confounding topics that escapes our concrete thinking. The question I plan to pose in just a few lines is seemingly inane, but don't be fooled. It lingers dangerously on the periphery of our mind's conscious thoughts. Dangerous to those of us prone to its presence, yet unaware of how it affects us on a daily basis until it might be too late. Not too late to retreat because we should NEVER RETREAT; but too late to respond with optimism and love. And so, here is the question that is plaguing my mind today:
Why, when there is so much in this beautiful life and world for which to be grateful, are there folks who are hell-bent on being negative and spreading pessimism?
This week I had the honor of attending my son's college orientation. Instead of blogging about the irony of the chaos and craziness of my life these past few days, chaos which happened to be plopped dead center between two sessions I am presenting on Finding Balance and Peace in Real Life, I need to implore all readers to seriously consider the question above with me. It is an important question for anyone who believes any of the following:
Kindness Matters
The Power of Positivity
Positive Culture Makes a Difference
Choose Kind
Love Conquers All
Life is So Good
That list can go on, in fact, comment here, on Twitter, on Facebook all that you can with additional phrases of positivity, because the comments that surrounded me this week are a testament to the fact that many folks really just don't get it. But even more importantly than putting it out on all those social media avenues, where quite frankly the folks most in need of the message are likely not hanging out with us, we need to LIVE IT OUT LOUD!!! Everywhere you go, spread that beautiful positive vibe that makes you stand out. Share your smile with the crabster in line. Give a positive comment, regardless of the outcome, to the cashier, waitress or (on those days when it really gets to you) the bartender. Let yourself be vulnerable enough to be brave enough to shout to the world, "This life is awesome, and if you don't believe me, let's figure out what we can do to change your situation or change your mind!"
I promised myself that I would not go into detail as to the origins of this post. Throughout the past week, there were many factors bringing this question to the forefront of my mind. One major factor occurred in the auditorium of my son's college as I saw a room full of beautiful teenagers, all silently screaming "I AM FULL OF AWESOME POTENTIAL!!!". Were there kids who were challenges to their parents? You bet! Were there teens who pushed limits? Absolutely! Were there some kids who are going to make bad choices? No doubt! The room was bustling with the energy of teens who are on the road to adulthood and it was absolutely, undeniably, an energy that this world needs! Maybe I'm the nut, but after hearing what some of the parents said earlier about their children, I didn't want to leave the auditorium. But you can bet those folks were doused in my positive vibe. I didn't retreat...NEVER RETREAT! I responded with resounding optimism, love and admiration for all that is teen-age-hood and for the parents who are living it. Will they avoid me in the future? quite possibly. But somewhere in their minds perhaps there will be a little ringing of the bell of positivity and complete fascination about the beauty of this world, awe in the potential of all children and excitement for all that life has to offer if only we are open to receiving.
Why, when there is so much in this beautiful life and world for which to be grateful, are there folks who are hell-bent on being negative and spreading pessimism?
This week I had the honor of attending my son's college orientation. Instead of blogging about the irony of the chaos and craziness of my life these past few days, chaos which happened to be plopped dead center between two sessions I am presenting on Finding Balance and Peace in Real Life, I need to implore all readers to seriously consider the question above with me. It is an important question for anyone who believes any of the following:
Kindness Matters
The Power of Positivity
Positive Culture Makes a Difference
Choose Kind
Love Conquers All
Life is So Good
That list can go on, in fact, comment here, on Twitter, on Facebook all that you can with additional phrases of positivity, because the comments that surrounded me this week are a testament to the fact that many folks really just don't get it. But even more importantly than putting it out on all those social media avenues, where quite frankly the folks most in need of the message are likely not hanging out with us, we need to LIVE IT OUT LOUD!!! Everywhere you go, spread that beautiful positive vibe that makes you stand out. Share your smile with the crabster in line. Give a positive comment, regardless of the outcome, to the cashier, waitress or (on those days when it really gets to you) the bartender. Let yourself be vulnerable enough to be brave enough to shout to the world, "This life is awesome, and if you don't believe me, let's figure out what we can do to change your situation or change your mind!"
I promised myself that I would not go into detail as to the origins of this post. Throughout the past week, there were many factors bringing this question to the forefront of my mind. One major factor occurred in the auditorium of my son's college as I saw a room full of beautiful teenagers, all silently screaming "I AM FULL OF AWESOME POTENTIAL!!!". Were there kids who were challenges to their parents? You bet! Were there teens who pushed limits? Absolutely! Were there some kids who are going to make bad choices? No doubt! The room was bustling with the energy of teens who are on the road to adulthood and it was absolutely, undeniably, an energy that this world needs! Maybe I'm the nut, but after hearing what some of the parents said earlier about their children, I didn't want to leave the auditorium. But you can bet those folks were doused in my positive vibe. I didn't retreat...NEVER RETREAT! I responded with resounding optimism, love and admiration for all that is teen-age-hood and for the parents who are living it. Will they avoid me in the future? quite possibly. But somewhere in their minds perhaps there will be a little ringing of the bell of positivity and complete fascination about the beauty of this world, awe in the potential of all children and excitement for all that life has to offer if only we are open to receiving.
Saturday, July 13, 2019
Lessons of HOPE from Sesame Place
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| Photo from 2017 Maccaroni's are on the left side. |
First lesson, everyone has a story to live. Being people who do not seek or enjoy the spotlight, it is sometimes a challenge in our everyday life for my family to blend in and keep our service lowkey. But on this day, when we join the fifty or so other foster/adoptive families at Sesame Place, we are treated to a day where our family's passion is the norm. This feeling is amazingly refreshing, as it is my vision that all families would come to see the beauty instead of the pain, and realize the opportunities instead of the hardships, available to those who participate in foster care and adoption. As my children and I were reconnecting with some families, I caught up with a mom who has built her family through foster care and adoption. She was telling me that she has been recently diagnosed with a spinal condition which will slowly paralyze her unless it is corrected through surgery. After the surgery, she will no longer be able to turn her head completely, and so she will lose her license. I listened, as is my way, taking in her story, knowing that no words exist to express my heartbreak at this news. She quickly set me straight however, as her incredible strength was illustrated in her next words to me, "I figure it's OK. I have my older sons to drive me around now. I have to get the surgery, too many children still need my help." Wow! Perspective, right?
Second lesson, live each moment fully for the joy it offers. Since my family does not presently have a baby in our home, my children were lamenting not having a little person to take on the rides, but that didn't stop them from having fun. You see, all of my kids, four of them teens, have learned through this fostering experience that love is for sharing, and life is for living. We tell people that our gift to give is the love of our family and the sibling joy we can share with others. My teens could have easily taken the free lunch and then called it a day. After all, the Honker Dinger Derby and Cookie Monster Café are clearly for little kids. But my teens were there to spread their smiles and joy. Look at these faces! Pure fun! Pure childhood! Pure passion for enjoyment! They didn't retreat into their teenage caves, but instead found the inner child that can have fun within the surrounding joy.
Third lesson, we each need to find our gift, then share it with abandon. I always need to remind myself as donations to various organizations and charities are sought out at stores, online and in schools that each person has his or her special talents to share. Money is not my 'talent' to share at this time. Conversely, the man who runs the H.O.P.E. foundation has built up a foundation that is dedicated to lavishly loving families of foster care and adoption with monetary donations. Raising the money to make days like this possible is his passion, his talent, his gift. It is how he loves and cares for children. Loving and caring for children in our home is how my family shares its gifts. I don't imagine that being able to donate money will ever be in my repertoire of talents to share, and that is OK, just as caring for fragile infants in his home might not ever be in Brian's. It is all just fine, as long as each of us realizes what it is we have been given to share, then we share that gift with abandon, never lamenting what it costs us to do so. This, I believe, might be the rightful definition of Social Justice...but that's fodder for another post.
Sunday, July 7, 2019
A Living Will for Goals
Living Will: a written statement detailing a person's desires in circumstances in which they are no longer able to express informed consent.
For teachers, this time of the year lends itself to reflection. Unlike most professions, teaching is given this hiatus of breathing time, a definitive break between one term and the next, during which we can naturally reset our goals and recharge our bodies. We consider the prior year and look to the year ahead, wondering what we will try to do differently. When I see others stating the goals they are setting, "I will not worry about what others think.", "I will spend more time taking care of myself.", "I will incorporate more technology into my lessons.", etc... I am inspired by the ideas and want to jump on board. However, knowing myself, I am aware that if I were to simply state these goals as my own, my efforts would quickly fall into failure. In fact, when folks ask me what my goals will be, I hesitate to answer. This is not an innocuous question requiring a mere, frivolous response, but is an imperative aspect of my profession demanding much thought, editing, and personal acceptance before I will utter aloud the sought after reply. This time of reflection is a gift I give to myself and with the gift comes a responsibility to take seriously the steps necessary to push myself toward growth and improvement. In the end, all the work in determining my direction can be viewed as a Living Will for My Goals, one that will help to keep my goals thriving even in the midst of struggle.
How does one ensure achievement of the goals set for oneself? I am a stubborn woman...in many ways. Not a judgement, just an observation. As such, simply stating a goal though it may sound fabulous to the listener, is fruitless for me. For some, accountability helps them achieve success. For me, stating my goal aloud so I have witnesses and folks to hold me accountable doesn't influence my success because in the end, I am only marginally concerned about how I am perceived by others. For others, having a team helps to ensure participation and success in goal achievement. However even getting others on board, including them in the desire to achieve the end result, will not move me closer to reaching my goals. Why? Because in all of these scenarios the goal has remained mere words. It is a statement on a page matching the thought in my head; no closer to completion than the "To Do" list on the fridge. It neglects to include two imperative ingredients toward my success; a plan and discipline.
A Plan: So let's say I have set my goal at keeping my wellness a priority. Now what? I need to know what this will look like in the short and long term, and every point in between. My plan of action will dictate the small and large steps I need to employ. Perhaps I will start small, spending five minutes each morning and evening evaluating my progress. Each step of the plan will lead me closer to my goal of personal wellness as a priority. Each step in the plan is a measurable piece that can be evaluated at the end of the day. It is black or white: either I did it or I didn't, and tomorrow I will either repeat or improve. The plan keeps me focused and on track but what will keep me following my plan every day? Discipline...
Discipline: Discipline is unwavering action toward my goal. Much like a Living Will, the plan is constructed when I am of sound mind and body, in order to be relied upon when exhaustion or indifference set in and I need help staying true to my goal. Discipline helps me to avoid the temptations to stray, and guides me to come back to the original goal when straying inevitably occurs. Consider distance running. When running long distances, at every mile the runner's mind will try to compel the body to stop and walk. So how do distance runners do it? With a plan...and discipline. The plan might be as simple as not even entertaining the thought of stopping...aches and pains, fatigue and exhaustion, are not dictating actions, the plan is; and discipline is keeping the runner focused on that plan.
For teachers, this time of the year lends itself to reflection. Unlike most professions, teaching is given this hiatus of breathing time, a definitive break between one term and the next, during which we can naturally reset our goals and recharge our bodies. We consider the prior year and look to the year ahead, wondering what we will try to do differently. When I see others stating the goals they are setting, "I will not worry about what others think.", "I will spend more time taking care of myself.", "I will incorporate more technology into my lessons.", etc... I am inspired by the ideas and want to jump on board. However, knowing myself, I am aware that if I were to simply state these goals as my own, my efforts would quickly fall into failure. In fact, when folks ask me what my goals will be, I hesitate to answer. This is not an innocuous question requiring a mere, frivolous response, but is an imperative aspect of my profession demanding much thought, editing, and personal acceptance before I will utter aloud the sought after reply. This time of reflection is a gift I give to myself and with the gift comes a responsibility to take seriously the steps necessary to push myself toward growth and improvement. In the end, all the work in determining my direction can be viewed as a Living Will for My Goals, one that will help to keep my goals thriving even in the midst of struggle.
How does one ensure achievement of the goals set for oneself? I am a stubborn woman...in many ways. Not a judgement, just an observation. As such, simply stating a goal though it may sound fabulous to the listener, is fruitless for me. For some, accountability helps them achieve success. For me, stating my goal aloud so I have witnesses and folks to hold me accountable doesn't influence my success because in the end, I am only marginally concerned about how I am perceived by others. For others, having a team helps to ensure participation and success in goal achievement. However even getting others on board, including them in the desire to achieve the end result, will not move me closer to reaching my goals. Why? Because in all of these scenarios the goal has remained mere words. It is a statement on a page matching the thought in my head; no closer to completion than the "To Do" list on the fridge. It neglects to include two imperative ingredients toward my success; a plan and discipline.
A Plan: So let's say I have set my goal at keeping my wellness a priority. Now what? I need to know what this will look like in the short and long term, and every point in between. My plan of action will dictate the small and large steps I need to employ. Perhaps I will start small, spending five minutes each morning and evening evaluating my progress. Each step of the plan will lead me closer to my goal of personal wellness as a priority. Each step in the plan is a measurable piece that can be evaluated at the end of the day. It is black or white: either I did it or I didn't, and tomorrow I will either repeat or improve. The plan keeps me focused and on track but what will keep me following my plan every day? Discipline...
Discipline: Discipline is unwavering action toward my goal. Much like a Living Will, the plan is constructed when I am of sound mind and body, in order to be relied upon when exhaustion or indifference set in and I need help staying true to my goal. Discipline helps me to avoid the temptations to stray, and guides me to come back to the original goal when straying inevitably occurs. Consider distance running. When running long distances, at every mile the runner's mind will try to compel the body to stop and walk. So how do distance runners do it? With a plan...and discipline. The plan might be as simple as not even entertaining the thought of stopping...aches and pains, fatigue and exhaustion, are not dictating actions, the plan is; and discipline is keeping the runner focused on that plan.
And so as I consider the year that has passed and the one ahead, I will spend time deeply considering the goals I will set for myself in order to become closer to the best Me possible. I will construct a plan that will guide me toward achievement and I will practice the discipline necessary to stay on track. In the end, I will draft a "Living Will for My Goals"; one that will keep me strong when I am weak, focused when I am distracted, and motivated when I am apathetic. Only when these pieces are in place will I be ready to share my goals aloud, holding only myself accountable for my success or failure of their achievement.
Tuesday, July 2, 2019
What Makes Teachers Great...
It would seem as though the start of summer invites a set of comments and unsavory input directed at teachers. After reading yet another teacher's comments about how she had to defend her time "off" in the summer, I dug out the letter you will read below. I was going to preface the letter but I don't believe you require any further explanation than to know I wrote it several years ago while enjoying my fifteen year hiatus to raise my children. I used it as a read aloud to be the exclamation point at the end of a PD session I presented for teachers entitled, "What Makes Teachers Great".
Dear Teacher,
Want to know what makes a teacher great? Just look inside your heart. Close your eyes for a moment and imagine your perfect teaching day...
The room is cheery and warm, the students are smiling and having fun, but it's not too noisy. Your lesson is a huge success as you watch the learning happen. Students are engaged and talking with one another, asking and answering questions regarding the learning intention. You can't stop the smile that crosses your face as this is the very moment your principal walks by and peeks in. Yes! It is the perfect moment but to truly appreciate its meaning, we need to consider what no one sees:
Thank you for being a beautiful, humble servant.
Ever so gratefully,
-A Parent
Teachers, please don't ever forget that in NO OTHER profession is there as much work outside the "payable hours", as in education. Instead of feeling the need to defend, join me in smiling and nodding at anyone who believes we work only during school hours. We all know that throughout the school year as well as in the summer months, teachers' minds are in constant motion between planning lessons, contemplating student needs, trying to improve our craft and considering how to involved parents in their child's education. Finally, if you want to have some fun, feel free to invite anyone who feels slighted by teachers having the summer months "off" to attain a teaching degree and join the proud, respectable, talented ranks of educators! We will be here to support and help them adjust to this profession that's not an employment opportunity for the weak, but a 24 hour-per-day, 365 day-per-year vocation.
Dear Teacher,
Want to know what makes a teacher great? Just look inside your heart. Close your eyes for a moment and imagine your perfect teaching day...
The room is cheery and warm, the students are smiling and having fun, but it's not too noisy. Your lesson is a huge success as you watch the learning happen. Students are engaged and talking with one another, asking and answering questions regarding the learning intention. You can't stop the smile that crosses your face as this is the very moment your principal walks by and peeks in. Yes! It is the perfect moment but to truly appreciate its meaning, we need to consider what no one sees:
- the time you spent planning, gathering materials and organizing the space.
- the research done to find the perfect activity to compliment the learning intention.
- the jitters you felt trying to go to sleep-not jitters just for this lesson, and not really jitters at all, but the normal, just-about-every-night angst over the next day's hopes and happenings.
- the phone call home to one student's parent, marking the first positive teacher call he's ever generated.
- the phone call to another student's home, leaving the 9th unanswered message requesting to talk about her daily sadness and outbursts.
Thank you for being a beautiful, humble servant.
Ever so gratefully,
-A Parent
Teachers, please don't ever forget that in NO OTHER profession is there as much work outside the "payable hours", as in education. Instead of feeling the need to defend, join me in smiling and nodding at anyone who believes we work only during school hours. We all know that throughout the school year as well as in the summer months, teachers' minds are in constant motion between planning lessons, contemplating student needs, trying to improve our craft and considering how to involved parents in their child's education. Finally, if you want to have some fun, feel free to invite anyone who feels slighted by teachers having the summer months "off" to attain a teaching degree and join the proud, respectable, talented ranks of educators! We will be here to support and help them adjust to this profession that's not an employment opportunity for the weak, but a 24 hour-per-day, 365 day-per-year vocation.
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