I Never Learn a Thing While I'm Talking

Can't deny the relation.

Anyone who knows us knows that my kids and I are truly cuts of the same cloth. They are constantly told they look like me, they have mannerisms that mimic mine and they even possess the kindness of heart that is indicative of the Maccaroni name. (Unfortunately none of them have yet to realize that they are runners, but there is still time.) Yes, there is no denying their roots and this was recently emphasized once more through a string of e-mails between my two older daughters' teachers and me.

This week, since I had been unable to attend our high school's Back to School Night a few weeks ago, I e-mailed all of my daughters' teachers to introduce myself, express my extreme gratitude for their efforts, and offer my support wherever needed. Toward the end of my e-mail, I implored teachers to let me know if there is ever any concern of any type with my children in their class or anywhere at all. The message I hoped to convey is that we are in this together. I believe that the teachers of my children are my eyes on their day, and it is through this close relationship that we can help my children make the most of these formative school years.

Some teachers did not reply, and that is just fine. They know I am here and they know where to find me if needed. Of the teachers that did reply, the overall theme was evident. My children are quiet. To quote one teacher:

"It is my hope that as she becomes more comfortable, she will talk more in class."

Ha! Good luck with that!  This appears to be just another of the traits that have been passed along to my children, for better or worse.  I am 48 years old and people are still asking me to verbally contribute more at meetings, at professional development and at social gatherings. And it would seem this penchant for quiet has been in my family longer still since one of the things I recall from my father's funeral back in 1985 was his best friend saying:

"Randy never said much, but when he did open his mouth to talk, everyone would stop to listen."

And so this week as the e-mails came in expressing concern over the pensive nature of my children, I was drawn to re-notice the sign I have on my classroom door: my reminder to keep my mouth shut in order to allow others to teach me.

"My first rule of conversation is this: I never learn a thing while I'm talking."

This goes for every situation that involves conversation.  If I need to know what caused a student to behave in a certain way....if I am speaking with a parent about how to best help their child in my class....if I am collaborating with my colleague on best practice....if I am at a book discussion, PD session or lecture....you get the picture. Whenever words are involved, I can only truly learn when I allow others to speak. Yes, it is a give and take, but there are times when being quiet is the best way to contribute to a dialogue.

Perhaps we all need to take a step back and give this some thought...not just for ourselves as adults, but for the children with whom we are blessed to learn.  Perhaps, just maybe, my children and I do need to speak up more. But perhaps, just the same, some teachers and students would benefit from not talking as much. Those who tend to talk the most might benefit from quietly enjoying what others have to contribute. All might benefit from some silence as well, for it is in the silence that we can gather our thoughts and make sense of our world. And in the end, appreciating the contributions, verbal and silence, of each other in this arena of airwaves might help us all to find our voice, learn from one another and create the balance necessary to reap the benefits of a society that listens as much as it talks.

Inspire Others by Telling Your Story

When something comes up over and over I figure that's my cue to bring it here to get your thoughts. Over the past week, the idea of 'bragging' by sharing accomplishments has come into my awareness at least four times. Here's the thing: in zero instances was there accusation from an outside source involved. No one was calling another out for bragging. Instead, in all instances I witnessed, the reporter of accomplishment was cautioning him or herself to not brag or boast. Actually, "cautioning" is too mild since two of these people were actually reprimanding and hushing themselves against sharing the awesome things they had achieved. This is concerning to me. When we make a difference, do our best or achieve a goal we should be able to feel proud and share the news freely with others! This is not a time to be quiet, but a time to encourage and inspire! In each instance this week, I found myself struggling to help the person who was sharing realize that it is only through the articulation of accomplishments that others can be inspired. And so, I bring the topic here for your contemplation.

First, when is sharing simply sharing? Well, I am an emulator. I like to see what others have accomplished, then consider how I can learn from their experience and use the new information to achieve my goals.  I can recall a book I read when I was pregnant with child number 4 called, Outnumbered, Raising 13 Kids with Humor and Care.  I was determined to be the best mom of my children that I could possibly be, and so I wanted to hear from moms who had done the same. Was Mary Ann Kuharski, the woman who wrote the book, bragging about what she had accomplished with her 13 children (7 biological and 6 adopted)? Not at all!  She was sharing experience so that others might learn. And learn, I did! To this day, I have relayed pieces of her story several times. My favorite was a depiction of when she was sitting in the bleachers at a football game. She was wedged between a close friend on her left and a woman with whom she had had infrequent interaction on her right. The woman on her right began lamenting how much laundry she had to do because of her two children and how she could never catch up. The author sat attentively listening, but never offered her own laundry experience. After the woman on her right departed, the author's friend expressed her incredulousness; "Why didn't you tell her how many children you have and how much laundry you must do daily?" The author's answer was that this woman's reality was her reality. The author had nothing to prove and no matter how much she had shared, this woman still had her reality to go home to. She might have been amazed, or worse felt sympathy, but neither of those reactions would have changed her perception about her circumstances. She was not ready to learn from anyone else's experience. It would have become an I-can-one-up-you conversation of boasting that is never helpful. The author's wisdom astounded me and I have carried this reminder with me ever since. Her humility was evident. She did not see her accomplishment as something to brag about. It was simply her reality.

Second, when is sharing actually bragging? My daughter who is a junior in high school is reading Beowulf, an Old English poem in which the protagonist shows signs of having a boasting problem. I am over-simplifying the classic work of course, but throughout the story, Beowulf is consistent in boasting about his greatness as a warrior. Now, it should be stated, his feats were quite impressive...but humility was certainly not one of his strongpoints. In helping Anna through the reading of this difficult piece of literature, I employed a sense of humor which lead to us both entertaining a choose-your-own ending where Beowulf meets his demise. After all, with all his bragging about his greatness, it certainly felt as though he deserved to be put in his place. If I were to try to pinpoint what made his 'sharing of greatness' cross the line into the bragging arena, I would have to say it was his lack of humility. He wasn't just telling of his epic adventures and awesome skill. He seemed to be doing so in an effort to prove his greatness and proclaim how much better he was than others. He didn't lead with a story, but instead with an attitude of "I'm better than you because...", and the impression that he felt he was the only one capable of achieving such greatness.

Can you see the difference between the author in my first example and Beowulf? Let's consider the conundrum of sharing vs. bragging. Does the difference between the two lie in: intention? perception? reception?  judgement?  humility? The answer to all of these, might just be 'Yes'. But none of that should keep us from relaying our accomplishments! We need to share all that we are doing. We need to celebrate how we are changing circumstances for the better. We cannot control how others perceive us or our deeds. We cannot help them avoid judgement or envy. We need only to help others know what is possible and we need to be proud that we have made a difference and done our best. Go ahead and share your achievements, tout your accomplishments and while you are doing so, also take time to celebrate the greatness of others. This is where humility enters. This is part of our investment in humanity! It is through this sharing that others will be inspired and know what it is they are capable of achieving or accomplishing in their lifetime!

Experience is the Catalyst for Empathy

Are you a middle or high school teacher who wonders why kids seem discombobulated when they arrive for class? As a teacher do you find it frustrating that those in other professions pass judgement on you for using your time off to relax? Do you question why your students can't focus or why they resist the denial of phone use in school? If you answered "yes" to any of these questions consider the title of this post and enjoy where the words below invite you to go. When we allow ourselves to experience what others experience we are able to empathize with them in a way that is otherwise nearly impossible.

This post's assembly took longer than usual because it was something that needed to be knocked around my mind like a pinball, dismantled beyond the point of recognition, studied from various angles only to continue to cause me to question its validity. The writing of this post started in June with an all-nighter and took many turns along the way. Its creation involved a paralegal and in the end, it will suggest a daily trip down a crowded hallway and a Device Deprivation Double Dog Dare. Yes, this is going to be one unique read, and it all starts with that simple statement:

Experience is the Catalyst for Empathy...

First, the All-Nighter:  Last June I had the opportunity to assist with Project Graduation, an overnight event held in our high school with the intention of providing graduating seniors a safe place to party and celebrate. As a volunteer I was assigned to various stations throughout the night. Along with a school colleague and several parents, I stayed for the duration of the event. Then after arriving home about 5:45am, I showered before attending the final day of school. You younger teachers might be thinking, "What's the big deal?". Let me just say, at 48 years-old this was quite an undertaking. But let me be clear. I don't regret it one bit! The experience helped me to begin this quest for understanding. It started me on the path to figure out if empathy requires experience. You see, staying up all night allowed me to feel what I am sure countless teens feel after staying up all night to text, play games and just be the night owls their bodies tell them to be. And while I don't condone their sleeping habits, at least now I understand what those habits create for them during the school day. On that last day of school my stomach hurt, my patience waned and my ability to think quickly and respond reasonably was limited. From this experience I gained empathy for the teens I teach, as well as the ones that I parent, who have difficulty finding adequate sleep on a regular basis. 

Next while we as teachers struggle to help others understand the intensity of our jobs, our explanations repeatedly fall short of breeding empathy and drift away as nonsense without taking root. Why? The answer is simple and I am incredulous as to why it never hit me before. To adequately describe the experience of being a teacher is impossible. Instead we need to invite others to spend a day; not an hour or a class period, but an entire day in our shoes. 

On September 11, my neighbor and friend was allowed this very experience in our school. As a paralegal in NYC, he took a "day off" from work to speak to our students about his experiences on that day in 2001. In the end, the students were not the only ones given a new perspective. Leaving his daily commute to NYC behind for a day in order to tell his story to middle school students every period for 7 periods, he was rewarded with a newfound appreciation for the world of education and the folks who serve children in this way. As he described it, this total time-on-task was unlike his daily work experience. Working from bell to bell, continuing to teach even when he was tired and would have preferred a break, maintaining a level of decorum necessary around children, all combined to give him a new appreciation for the profession. Through his experience, empathy was born.

How powerful would it be if we invited people from various professions to take one day off from their daily job to spend it as a teacher?  In order for this to work, they would need to come in regardless of the sleep or lack thereof that they had the night before. They would need to begin when the first bell rings and keep going with all eyes on them for the full period. If in the younger grades, they could have the full experience with a dose of runny noses and elementary bickering, and if in the older grades, cell phone withdrawal and pushing of limits.  Regardless of student-age, they would be guaranteed relentless needs and tremendous responsibility unparalleled in any other profession and indescribable without the experience. And in the end, the experience might breed empathy for a world which others like to evaluate without ever stepping foot in the door.

These are just two examples of many that my mind has considered over the past few months.  Empathy from experience....I really do believe there is credence to the idea. Still not convinced? Maybe take a three minute walk in the crowded high school hallway. For the first minute weave in and out of groups of chattering teens, next try to get to your locker which is being blocked by a crowd of kids, then spend the last minute worrying that you might be late to class...and subsequently reprimanded by the teacher... again. Would you arrive at your destination focused and ready to work? The experience might help you have empathy for the students who arrive to you each day.

I leave you with one final challenge. It's the Device Deprivation Double Dog Dare that I mentioned at the outset. I think you know what I am going to suggest...There is much talk about the addiction of our students to their devices. I don't believe most adults are faring any better in this area. Perhaps we as teachers need to set an example. Have the experience of being device free during school hours. No texting, no posting, no checking...Could you do it? I Double Dog Dare you! Interested in trying out the theory of empathy by experience? If you decide to do it, let us know how it goes...let us know if it helps you to understand the resistance from students, the withdrawal symptoms really.  This could be an eye-opener as you use the experience to build empathy. Not so you decide that they should have their phones in school but so that you can truly say you understand how they feel.

To Lead or Not to Lead, It's Not Up to You!

As the years of motherhood swallowed up more and more of my adult life, I often would stop myself  to turn around and look over my brood only to wonder, "Why are all these kids following me?" Often it was just a moment of realization in the fact that somehow I was the mother of five beautiful children, and the humility of the situation would envelop me in gratitude. Other times, however the enormity of them so blindly following me and trusting that I knew what I was doing was overwhelmingly intimidating.  I mean, what basis did they have for the trust that they put in my ability to keep them safe, teach them and guide them in their little lives?  They had not studied my credentials or perused my qualifications.  And yet, there they were when I woke up, staring at me, willing me to lead the way.

       I can recall the first time they joined me on the track to actually run. Usually I would bring them out there for them to play on the infield while I did my laps.  This day, however, they laced up and were all on the track, giggling and talking as we looped the field. Later that day I texted my sister-in-law to relay a message of joy mixed with horror. It was a moment that was at once a dream come true and a nightmare. I mean, they were following my lead into running and fitness, but I knew my days of meditation on the track were ending, at least for a while.  Later that year, they ran the Princeton Kids Marathon. Twenty-five miles were run over the span of a month up to "race day". Then the last mile was run on a course that ended at the Princeton University arena. As runners finished the race on the track my children were nowhere to be seen. Then the announcer, a WPST disc jockey, could be heard proclaiming that the final runners were entering the arena. There they were, my two older girls carrying their little sister into the arena. They put her down and proceeded to hold hands all the way around the track and across the finish line. It was official, I was their leader in all things, whether or not that realization was in the forefront of my mind at any given moment.

I write all this to help you consider something tremendously important. This post is about YOU! You in your everyday life living with the power to be a leader, whether or not you choose the role. Considered the enormity of this responsibility! We don't get to choose whether or not we will be a leader. Instead, as soon as someone is following another, the person being followed is a leader.

Wait, what? Yep, that's right!

Every reader here has the potential to become a leader at any given moment that someone chooses to follow you. You, the parent...you, the teacher...you, the principal...you, the teen...you, the driver...you, the customer...you, the commuter...you, the waiter...you, the optimist...you, the pessimist...you get the picture!  You never know when someone is watching you, just waiting to follow your lead.

And then...

                 the moment someone begins following you, you are a leader...
                             
                                           It's not up to you, so choose your actions wisely!

Just Because It Feels as if You Never Left, Doesn't Mean That's True

As many teachers rounded out the first full week of the new school year, through conversations both in-person and online I noticed a frustration and defeat creeping into comments and demeanor. The frustration was not with students or with curriculum, but with the self. As teachers we tend to hold ourselves to ridiculously high standards and a result is a frustration with ourselves and our perceived inability to jump right back in. Teachers I spoke with seemed to think they should be able to do so much more in this short amount of time than they were accomplishing and they seemed to believe that this new school year should already fit like a well-worn cap. I found myself imploring folks to be gentle on themselves, this ancient new direction is one that is traveled repeatedly throughout the world, yet your path with your particular crew has never before been explored!

I often need to remind myself to heed my own advice, and so in listening to my words, I was reminded of the impatience I felt with myself when my children and I moved out of our family home where we had spent most of our years together and into a brand new home and way of life. Being a creature of habit, I craved the ease with which I had parented my school-aged children from my home base for so many years.  I mean, I had it down to a science!  Kids chose lunch options the Sunday heading into the school week. Their clothing was organized on shelves and their shoes in cubbies. Hooks labeled with each child's name by the front door delineated which backpacks and sweaters hung where. It was an organized mother's dream come true. It ran like clockwork....Then we moved... To a home that is a fraction of the size and did not afford the same amount of space to organize my five school children and their teacher-mom. A new home that had not had the comfortable attribute of growing along with us, but instead into which we thrust ourselves, in full-color action, mid-school-year.  For weeks I was frustrated with my inability to get us to the point we had been before. I berated myself for not being able to provide the routine and security of control that I had been able to bestow on my children before. After all, the kids and their needs were the same. In essence, it was "as if I had never left" so why could I not get it together as I had so easily before?

And then a friend gave me a little plaque and a stone.

On the plaque were the words, "I believe in being gentle on our soul as we mend and heal our hearts" and on the stone simply the word, "Courage".

While these words might not seem like much, at the time of their gifting they had the power to jumpstart a new mindset and alter my outlook. Slow down for a moment right now. Give it a read again. Then listen to what it has to say to your teacher-soul.

"I believe in being gentle on our soul as we mend and heal our hearts"

"Courage"

Do you see it? Do you see why you might be feeling as you do during these first weeks of returning to school? While your heart may not be in need of mending and healing, it is still in a state of turmoil and change. This is stressful! Many have returned to school feeling as though we never left. Summer seems to have flown by. In the grand scheme of life as we add years to our age, those two summer months become a smaller and smaller fraction of the life we have lived.  As a result, while they lazily lingered on forever when we were children, now they run by us in a flash. We return to school and we are in the same room, using the same materials and working with the same staff. It all seems so familiar and commonplace that we cannot understand why we can't fall into the routine of ease that we left in June.

When we forget to take the time to reflect on the true passing of time, it's no wonder it seems as though we should be able to do this as if we were in this position for eight months. After all, it's not an illusion that it seems as if we never left. But think for a moment about what is different.  Not the room, building or co-workers, but instead the most important part of our job; the students!  Try to name another profession where the primary clientele arrives in droves, immediately sits looking for the person in charge to serve them, expects the leader to be on top of their game from the get-go, and then comes back the next day with the same expectations...  Add to that the fact that every interaction with every students matters, and I am certain this type of stress does not exist in any other situation. The stress we are feeling is that accompanied by the high demand to build relationship with 20, 30, 150, 300 people!  Not those at a conference who will leave us in a few days, but those in our space, silently and subconsciously demanding of us that we be there for them, today, tomorrow, the next day....

And so, please go gently on your soul!  This is all new, even if it is not. Sharing a chocolate cake with an old friend is very different from sharing it with a new love. Not better, not worse, just different. New love, while exciting and something you anticipate with joy, can be very stressful. It's a happy stress, but it is stress all the same. You feel different, you act differently, and you need to be more in tuned to making sure that sharing with that new love the next time, will feel more and more like sharing with the old friend...comfortable and familiar. That's growth! That's what we are striving for with our students. We start with all this new love in September, taking the time to cultivate relationships, and this is stressful! This is work for our hearts. But be patient!  It is a wonderful time! For this new love will fit like the most comfortable old friend in time, and it is then that you will feel at peace with the gift you have as an educator! And so over the next few weeks, keep repeating to yourself as I will be to myself; "Go gently on your soul"!

Hospitality: You Are Always Welcome Here!

If you've not seen Sebastian Maniscalco's skit about people showing up at your home unannounced in today's culture, please hit play on the clip above and laugh with me. It is widely known that regarding the Maccaroni house anyone is welcome at any time. Cars will pull up, we hear the car door, and we look to see who is coming. We have an open door policy that is understood by all who know us, and exercised freely. There are two general 'rules' to be followed if stopping by...the state you find our home in is never to be judged, and the state you find us in is always to be joined. And believe me, with our home being as well used as it is, its state can be pretty scary at times and its activity is always entertaining. As parents drop off the friends of my children, dogs are brought to see Mocha, conversation flows freely, stories are relayed and often the struggles of parenting are shared. And as students visit my teenage neighbor or are walking home from school, they shamelessly yell "Hey Ms. Macc!" and sometimes come over for a little catching up on life. It has gotten to the point that my children and I know that in order to connect to some people, we need to make sure we are home, we need to be present. It is very disappointing when we arrive home only to find a note or gift at our door, and a missed opportunity to connect with the bestower. 

And then there is my classroom. Although tucked out of the way of general school traffic, is much like my home. Students with whom I was blessed to share last year make their way to my room to say hello, catch up and seek my encouragement or help. My classroom door is always open, and anyone who stops in can be assured of joining into our current activity, discussion and antics. Sometimes I wonder if our security staff draws straws to determine who will be made to visit my classroom in the morning to collect my inter-office folder, and no doubt be dragged into our current escapade. My room is a reassuring and cheerful spot that, much like my home, is a welcoming space for people to feel safe just being themselves.

So here is my conundrum...you had to know something sinister was looming... 

This past week we had our full staff PD gatherings prior to students arriving for the school year and they prompted my reflections for this post. After reading all my descriptions above, one would think I would work the room of a full-staff meeting like a champ, making sure others are feeling welcome and comfortable just as I do at home and in my classroom. However, even with a full-fledged pep talk prior to arrival, I am incapable of exuding this same welcoming atmosphere in social settings that I do at home and in my classroom. I am not by nature one to speak up or call out to others when the circumstances dictate that this is exactly what folks are supposed to do. While walking into a crowded room, I am much happier just staying in my head as I await the speaker's presentation. When I arrive at such an event, my armor goes up and the first thing I want to do is leave. This past week, as others were greeting one another and asking about summers and such, I promptly found a seat behind some folks and put my head into my notebook. It's not that I wasn't happy to see my co-workers, I was! I am just not comfortable being 'social' in that way. So my question is this: When presented with social gatherings, where is that welcoming woman who would allow anyone to enter her home or her classroom and go to great lengths to make them feel comfortable?

And so I am putting this out there in the public realm to hold myself accountable. I am challenging myself this year. I want to find that woman in all situations to which I am called.  I believe there is a mindset shift that I need to make. The invitation into my home and classroom would fit into the category of hospitality; making others feel comfortable and inviting connection. I love to make connections! I am all about relationships and connections! But when it comes to just me in that expanse of people, I don't feel as hospitable. I don't believe this is due to not wanting others in. I believe it is a matter of not feeling I have much to offer in these situations. If you know your Bible, you would see that I am much more comfortable playing the role of Martha instead of Mary. When I feel busy, when I feel as if I have something to offer, in the case of my home or classroom this means hospitality, I am in my comfort zone. And so, after much reflection, I believe I need to shift my mindset to include what I would like to refer to as 'hospitality of self'; inviting others to interaction with me and making them feel comfortable while encouraging connection into myself. I never want to exclude others from myself with my quietness or my facial expressions, which are merely a sign of my discomfort, not disinterest. I want to know that my smile, my posture and my actions allow others to feel they are welcome into 'me'. 

One final thought.  Regarding our students, I think we need to be aware that they might also have moments where they are not feeling sharable. It is interesting as an introvert to know that while it seems perfectly acceptable for an extrovert to question the motives of an introvert; "Come on! Why don't you join in!", it is not at all acceptable for an introvert to say, "Hey can you please get out of my space and leave me alone for now?"  Yet recognizing this may be how our students are feeling is an important step in allowing them to find safety in our classrooms.  The more I think about it, that seems to be a ripe seed for a future post. For now, I want you to know that as long as you are willing to accept and participate in the state you find, you are welcome into my crazy home, into my active classroom and into my genuine self! How do you plan to challenge yourself to grow this year?

Pack Summer into Your School Bag

Usually when I sit down to write a post I have been manipulating the words in my head for a couple days, hashing out the ideas and waiting to find the time to write my thoughts down in a way so that others can appreciate their story. Other times however, I sit down to write without any idea of what I have to say. There is no script that has been running through my head. There is nothing in particular that I want to try to convey...I just watch, much as the reader does, to see where the letters go. Just a hippie with a keyboard, going with the flow. This is one of those times. And it makes sense, right?  I mean, here I am on the cusp of a new school year. Summer vacation has come to an end and now I am looking out...but I can't decide at what I am gazing. I know that my view involves a mountain, it almost always does. And I know that the mountain is representing a new beginning; that's just the feeling of summer to school year. But am I at the bottom looking at what I need to climb in order to conquer? Or am I at the top, looking at where I need to jump in order to soar? Or is my view something completely different? I suppose that all depends...

This summer was full of gifts. The gift of the mundane as my children and I enjoyed some days of nothingness. The gift of new adventures as I branched out with my PD presentations and my son embarked on his college journey. The gift of sharing myself in relationships with people who never quite knew who I was and those who know me well but love me anyway. The gift of family as we gathered to celebrated birthdays or just enjoy a meal and company. The gift of a dog new to our family yet fitting in as though she was always here. The gift of a garden that actually lived. The gift of new drums and lessons begun and endless music in our home. The list goes on and on in my journal. It was a beautiful summer as I peer behind me, the terrain was mostly level with only the occasional bump of excitement, and for that alone I am truly grateful...but as I peer ahead...

…and read the comments and lamentations regarding the passing of summer, it is all too easy to believe I am about to be forced to leave behind me all that summer brought and trade those wonderful feelings for what lies ahead in the new school year. That would make me so sad! If I adopt that mindset, I will surely go into the upcoming week of school with dread and negative anticipation for all that it will not be able to bring into my life. With all the schedules and the homework and the sports, how could the upcoming school year ever measure up to summer? It can't, if I pit one against the other. But I know that mourning the loss of summer is only for those who didn't spend the past two months in growth and true happiness; the kind of happiness that seeps into the heart and comes along for the ride filling you with anticipation for what might come next. This is not a time for endings, but a time to figure out how to bring what was wonderful into the future with you!

At the end of last school year, I decided to have students address envelops to themselves so that I could send my 'end of the year' notes to them in the mail since I had run out of time to get them to the students before the close of school. All summer those envelops beckoned me from my school bag in the corner of my dining room. They were taunting me really. As the school year fell further and further behind me, I was increasingly unmotivated to write notes to students who (in my mind's rationale) surely couldn't possibly care about receiving a note from me as they enjoyed their summer. Occasionally however, I would see a student as is the blessing of living in the town in which I teach, and he/she would ask me about the letters, proving my excuses of their apathy flawed, and stirring the taunting up again. Well, this week I finally made good on my promise of letters, but with a new spin that beautifully connects last year to this one. I mailed those envelops with letters of encouragement for the upcoming school year drawing on the growth each student made last year, as well as a coupon from me giving permission for these amazing young people to remain awesome and to reach out to me with any need at all. My procrastination ended up being a powerful tool to bridge the gap between last year and this year. These notes were a way to bring a little bit of last year's awesome into the recipe that is churning for the upcoming school year. They became a way to stir up some excitement for what lies ahead. For me, mailing them has helped me to become excited to meet the new students with whom I will build relationships that will continue beyond next summer. Each experience builds on the last and carries with it a promise for the future.

And so as I peer out over the expanse of mountain before me, I don't believe I am seeing a climb or a soar in my immediate future. I see an open path; not flat, but with hills and dips that are manageable. I see beautiful beginnings and the continued joy they can bring to our lives, if we just change the perspective that "summer is over" into "what will I do with all that summer brought into my life to enhance this new beginning?". I know I plan to bring along with me the new relationships that are blooming in my life to see how they will continue to develop and help me to grow. I will continue to cherish family and old friends. I will replace my vegetables and summer flowers with mums. I will walk my dog before and after school and hear my daughter's drums as I prepare dinner for one less child, but anticipate the new growth experienced by my college student. I will not leave summer behind, I will just find a place for what it brought into my life and let it continue to shape me into all I am intended to be. Let all the joy and growth that summer brought to you continue on to bridge the gap, just as those letters will help to pull students into confidence for a successful year ahead by reminding them they are loved by someone who watched them grow last year. Seasons of life are not meant to be left behind, but to be lived and appreciated for all the ways they shape us and help us to grow.