- Slow to warm, but will stay.
- Older, but still gets kiddie menu.
- Truth: Perfectionists can never be perfect.
- Close your eyes. Deep breath… Jump!
- What’s the cosmic significance of this?
- Sleeper: Dreams are warmer than life.
“There are no “rotten apples.”
There are only people who disagree with your point of view on things,
people who construct a different model of the world.
I am going to tell you this:
No persons do anything inappropriate, given their model of the world.”
— N.D. Walsch
Today I saw a child sitting by himself outside of his classroom on a wooden bench. I sat down next to him and asked him why he was sitting on the bench.
“I got kicked out of class.”
“Humm… why did you get kicked out of class?”
“Because the teacher said I was being disrespectful.”
“Oh. (pause) What did you do that was disrespectful?”
“I threw my project on the floor.”
“I see. Why did you throw your project on the floor?”
“I didn’t want to present in front of the class.”
I kept up the questioning, digging deeper and deeper. He told me that he didn’t like presenting in front of the class. He felt his project wasn’t his best work. And he had to read a lot since he had written quite a bit. I asked him if he talked to his teacher and told her how he felt about his project, and he admitted he hadn’t. He said she was really mad right now, and we both agreed that probably he should wait until she had calmed down. He said he didn’t think she would believe him about the reasons why he didn’t want to present, about how he really felt. I asked him why, and he said it was because this wasn’t the first time he has been bad and made her mad in class. I asked him why he kept acting this way, and he told me that he had been kept back, and he really resented it. He didn’t want to be in 5th grade again, he wanted to be in the 6th grade with his friends. I asked him if his teacher was nice and cared about kids or if she was just teaching for the money. He laughed and looked me in the eye and said she really cared.
“How many more months do you have left of 5th grade?”
“Do you want to do this all over again?”
“Do you think she knows how you really feel?”
“Teachers are really smart, but we can’t get inside kids heads and hearts. Maybe you should talk to her about how you really feel so that the next 3 months are not terrible for the both of you. Then you can move on to 6th grade from a better place.”
I left him pondering on the bench. If I didn’t want to present a project that was terrible in front of my peers, what would I be willing to do? This makes me remember that no child is ever a “bad” child. They act out defensively, because some part of them is being threatened. How can we take the “threat” out of school and learning so we can see a child as they really are, not when they are in fight, flight, or fake/freeze (as in playing dead) mode?
Blah, blah, blah
That is all I hear
When you are talking
In the front of the room
As I am just sitting here…
Listening to others
The classroom space
You think that you are in control
That we are all learning
But by the time you are done
My mind is blank,
The last 50 minutes forgotten
As if it never happened.
Today, I was a substitute educational technician in a public high school. I was so saddened by what I saw today… the lack of learning, teaching, and respect from both sides. So, I wrote this slice from the students’ perspective. I made a promise to myself today that I will always look at my teaching from the learning lens of my students.
2- Jekyll & Hyde
0-A rollercoaster ride
7-Always up and down, round and round
9-Making my stomach churn and heave with nervous tension
4-Wondering when it is
6-Going to all come crashing down
3-Praying for peace
3-Praying for help
4-Searching for some clarity
I am not sure about the ending of this poem. The #2 just doesn’t feel quite right. I was thinking about changing it to 2- To leave.. or To change, but those really weren’t quite right either. I’m just looking for two words that make it all stop… the stress, the chaos, the uncertainty… to be free from chains/burdens/repression/abuse. Maybe I will try to play with this one before the end of the month.
Well, it is Day #18, and yesterday I hit the ceiling on my writing. My writing muscles are very weak, and I have reached the day in my writing routine when they are just plain spent. I cannot lift a hand to write (or a finger or two to type). Words are not forming in my mind. There is just nothing… blank space baby.
Because of this discomfort, I am regressing to my proverbial “safety blanket” — reading. I am reading up a storm. I don’t want to put a book down. I went to the library took out 6 books about gardening, went to Goodwill and grabbed two more books, and went to the MSL 5-for-5 program and grabbed 9 YA books. I am rationalizing my inability to write today by saying, “Hey, you are a great reader! It is ok. You just have writer’s block. Everyone gets it. You are just reading so much to get inspiration.”
Actually, I am just procrastinating because I don’t think I can be a writer today. Actually, it’s because I don’t think I am a writer. I am just trying to be one. And right now, I am not succeeding. To take an idea from the book I am reading (Switch by C. Heath & D. Heath): my elephant is stuck in the mud, my rider is exhausted, and I lost the path.
I am hoping that tomorrow will be a different day. That I will find my muse again. That the rest I get tonight will rejuvenate my tired muscles… so I can last (and be productive) the 13 more days of SOL Challenge.
watching college softball, college basketball, Lucifer, & Grey’s Anatomy
listening to PHOX, Shakey Graves, Lake Street Dive, & Sam Hunt
appreciating the wood stove, warm tea, books, sleep, & snow days
loving my four cuddly cats, two beautiful daughters, & myself
eating organic foods, gluten-free, & paleo diet
drinking tea with honey & water with lemon slices
wishing for nothing… I am trying to “be” what I want
planning plants, shrubs, and trees for a new landscape design
reading professional books, YA books, lots of Twitter posts & SOLs
Maybe it is because I spend my time on other things
That he begs for attention
Never letting me too far out of reach,
Always pulling me back
Then, tripping me up with long limbs.
I just can’t wait until he is quiet
Because I am tired and just want to get stuff done
Cross off the items on my list of things to do
But he is out of control,
Crashing and banging into everything
Gobbling everything up in his path
Including items he is not suppose to touch
After a tug-of-war, I get the pieces back
All covered with grime.
I know I seem harsh
But we have a love-hate relationship,
My vacuum and I.