Give Yourself Time

For obvious reasons, I have not felt like myself lately. Things that once gave me joy do not have the effect they once had. I love reading, but I don’t have the attention span right now to enjoy a lot of reading. I love cooking, but just the other night I accidentally fixed my husband a plate and put it in the microwave. Because my husband was rarely home for dinner, this is something I’ve done hundreds of times, but as soon as I closed the microwave door after placing the plate in there, the realization that he wasn’t coming home to eat supper made me not want to ever go in the kitchen again. I love writing, but somehow the words aren’t coming as easy to me as they once did. I love playing board games, but passing out cards for just the three of us seems so painful. I love watching sports, but every game is watched missing my sidekick. I love movies but they all seem so sad now. I love taking walks, but not only has the rain prevented long walks, the walks now seem so lonely and full of my own sad thoughts and worries.

Sunday morning, I awoke somewhat excited because for the first time in more weeks than I can count, I actually slept all night. It had stopped raining and I decided to be a little lazy and have a second cup of coffee rather than rush to church. I then started talking myself out of going to church altogether. Again, an activity that I love and my inner voice was trying to prevent me from going to church at all. In an effort to convince myself that I didn’t have time for church, I decided to take the dog on a long walk on the sunny, peaceful Sunday morning. The dog and I love to walk in the woods near our house at the start of Lawson Fork. As we walked I noticed something strange on the bushes and tree leaves. As I got closer to the bushes I realized that what I saw on the bushes and leaves was butterfly eggs. I was amazed at the massive number of eggs on the bushes and leaves.

I quickly thought about the number of times I have taught the life cycle of the butterfly to students. Stage 1: Eggs, Stage 2: Larva (or the caterpillar), Stage 3: Chrysalis, Stage 4: The Butterfly.  As I examined the butterfly eggs I remembered my Mom reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar to me and my sister. I remember my Dad helping me set up my first butterfly net in my very first classroom. Well, he helped me set up my second butterfly net since I had failed at the first attempt.  I remembered the jokes my husband would say under his breath while I read The Very Hungry Caterpillar to our own boys. I began to cry (an activity that I have gotten used to lately but not one I enjoy). But in that moment, I realized that I am just like that butterfly egg. I am not finished. I am not done. I am not pretty and maybe a little strange to others right now. But one day, I’ll come out a beautiful butterfly giving joy to others.

As I trotted back home to rush to get ready for church (and yes I made it), I started thinking about us at school. How often do we feel just like a butterfly egg? We know we have a purpose. We know we have a job to do, but it doesn’t seem very pretty. It is hard work. Some of those eggs are eaten by bugs, some don’t hang onto the leaves and fall to the ground unable to produce a caterpillar. Some are washed away by rain or killed by a late snow. Yet so many keep going and soon become a caterpillar continuing to fight hard towards its purpose of becoming that successful butterfly. But it’s hard. The caterpillar’s work isn’t much easier. They work hard…really hard. Then once they grow and change they then must form themselves into a chrysalis. And once again the caterpillar must work hard as it transforms into a butterfly. Then the butterfly emerges from the chrysalis and begins to flap its wings so blood will pump into the wings.  Soon after the butterfly will fly away and very soon after that a female butterfly will lay eggs on a leaf or a bush starting the process all over again.

This time of the school year is hard. The weather is strange. The kids are strange. The work is hard. Our level of expectation is higher. The level of independence for our students is higher which causes pain for us, the students, and the parents. Discontent sets in on all parts. We have so little time, but so much left to do. Once we were excited about how much the kids have grown, but we soon realize it hasn't been enough and the calendar albeit full is short. It seems like forever before we have a break and the calendar seems daunting. But give yourself time. This work is hard. This work seems sometimes as if we aren’t successful nor will we ever be. But give yourself time. Do not let the to do list stop your transformation. Do not let the pain of doing the right thing, stop you from doing what is right. Give yourself time. Do not forget that all the work, the struggles, the tears will be worth it. Give yourself time.

Just imagine if the butterfly gave up.

Choose your Hard

Shockingly, Rosebro2 will be driving very soon. It has been a very interesting time as a parent. The thought of him driving puts me in quite the conundrum. I want him to drive. I cannot tell you the number of times he has been the last one picked up from practice as I coming barreling in on two wheels. A month ago I wasn't that concerned about him driving because he was a constant hang out with his Dad after practice, after school, after games. But now that luxury is gone and I am responsible for taking and picking up to everything.  I am constantly being asked to take him to a friend’s house. I remember the feeling of having Rosebro1 drive. Most parents are scared. I was delighted.  But with Rosebro2, I feel a little different.

I start thinking about the first time he will roll down the driveway without me. The loss of control is enough to make me anxious. I will also miss our talks in the car.  I will miss the conversations, seeing the Mom of the friend when I drop him off, reminding him of his behaviors, and singing to our favorite songs. All of this seems like so far away each time I have to drive with him.

As a former special education teacher, one of the skills I learned quickly when trying to help my students was the breaking down of skills. Any skill I needed the student to learn, I had to take away all assumptions that the student knew any of the prerequisite skills necessary to complete the task. Teaching Rosebro2 to drive is really no different. He is 14-just a month away from 15. At an extremely rough estimate he has been in a car at least 11,000 times in his life. Yet, simple skills such as which way to push the blinker button or how to turn on windshield wipers has gone unnoticed and must be taught. I specifically teach so many skills that are almost subconscious for me now as a driver for thirty+ years. This is hard work. It is hard because I am having to remind myself of things that innate for me but are unknown for him. It is hard because I do not think pharmacists make Zanax strong enough to deal with the levels of anxiety I feel. It is hard because he makes mistakes-even when we discussed and practiced what to do what feels like a million times. It is hard as well because what I never want to get is that phone call that my child has been in an accident that has harmed himself, others, or both. Teaching him is hard. Him not knowing is hard. I choose my hard.

Last week I was talking with a frustrated teacher who stated, “we do this. I don’t know why they don’t know it.”  I started thinking about Rosebro2 who has been in a car over ten thousand times. If I use that same mentality, then I should hand over the keys and let him go. In order for him to get it, I have to specifically, purposefully, and repeatedly teach him the variety of skills necessary. I have to scaffold information. I now model behavior as I drive and he rides. I speak aloud about the red light, but stopping and paying attention and then turning right. I talk aloud about why I am doing what I am doing not for my benefit but for his. I model good behavior such as keeping my cell phone in the back seat rather than taking phone calls or reading text/emails. After I’ve modeled it and he can talk about it at a level where it seems he understands it, we then allow him to have guided practice. When all of this occurs, there will be a day-much sooner than I am ready-when he will do all of this independently.

 Nike’s famous slogan, “just do it” left out some important steps. As teachers, our students can’t “just do it!” It is one reason why worksheets drive me crazy. Busy students do not indicate students who are learning. Students will not learn information just by doing it. Do they need practice?  Absolutely. But what they need more is modeling and direct, specific, purposeful, and repetitive teaching. Only then can a student be successful independently. This type of teaching is hard. It is hard to establish small groups in your classroom. It is hard to make data driven decisions in your classroom. It is also hard to have students not on grade level. It is hard to scaffold learning. It is also hard to find 8 hours worth of "work" each day for students. It is also hard to work hard every day and not see much progress. Choose your hard.

Be my Valentine

I’ve never loved Valentine’s Day. In high school, our school used to sell carnations and candy grams the week of Valentine. Each morning the student council would deliver flowers or candy grams in homeroom. I’d wait with baited breath to see if a friend or a boy would have something delivered to me. It was torture. It also started lots of rumors and teenage talk. Then I became older and had more serious relationships and the amount of pressure that I would feel at Valentine gift purchasing was a bit overwhelming and I somewhat found my gifts from these significant others to be a bit underwhelming. Then I got married. My first Valentine’s Day with my husband, we had been married for a little over a month. He had to work a basketball game the night of Valentine’s so when I got home, he had flowers and balloons waiting for me with a card. So we probably didn’t know each other well enough when we got married since he didn’t know my extreme fear of balloons. And the card he got me had a beautiful beach scene on the front, but when I read the card, it was for an interracial couple (spoiler-we're both white). Seriously…the card said “even though our skin color is not the same our hearts beat as one.” It was on that day I realized Valentine’s Day was just not a celebration that was worthy of a lot of time or effort. I somewhat attributed it to the people who only come to church on Christmas and Easter. Everyday should be full of a little bit of love and not just on February14^th. 

When my boys started school, I was so excited to help them make Valentine’s treats for their classmates. When Rosebro1 was in second grade he started talking about his “girlfriend” Eleisha. While I love, love Eleisha what I didn’t love was my 7 year old having a girlfriend. So I decided that I wanted to teach him that Valentine’s Day was about much more than just a girlfriend.  I made him write on each of his Valentine’s card the reason why he “loved” each of his classmates. At first it was pretty simple…”I love that you gave me a silly band.” “I love how much fun we have playing kickball at recess.” “I love when I saw you at Chick fil A one time and we played in the playground.” It was very surface, but over the years it became more evolved… "I love the way you are so kind”, “I love how you always make me laugh with your jokes”, “I love how you never give up even when it is hard.” While the Rosebros didn’t love this exercise each year, it was a great way to have discussions about seeing good in people even when it was hard to find.

At the same time I was making the Rosebros do this for their classmates, they would wake up each morning of February 1^st through February 14^th with a handmade heart taped to their bedroom door. The heart would have a handwritten note from me and my husband (well, let’s be honest…I just signed his name). The note would detail one reason why we loved them. As hard as it was to continue that tradition this year, I did. And it was a little sad at first, but my boys love it even if their teenage hormones don’t allow them to express it. I do see them reading their heart each morning and it does my heart good to know that my boys know they are loved.

I was thinking about this Monday in the car line as I watched the variety of styles of getting out of the car. Many parents are so like me, “I love you, have a great day, be good, stay on green, here’s your lunch, Love you.” But some do not even acknowledge their children getting out of the car. No goodbye, no have a good day, no see ya this afternoon. Some parents are yelling, “Hurry up -get out. Where’s your bookbag?”  Could it be possible that I am the first person to tell that child “I love you” in the morning? Could it be possible that I am the first positive interaction that child has that day? It is an overwhelming thought that not only am I responsible for making sure they learn to read, write, comprehend, analysis, compute, and become scientist all the while making sure they know they are loved.

Yet, that is what we do. And we do it more than just on Valentine’s Day. For teachers, every day is Valentine’s Day. It is why I keep chocolate in my office.

Snoozer Bowl 2019

Both Rosebros went to separate parties to watch the Super Bowl yesterday. Rosebro1 drove to his gathering. Rosebro2 wasn’t allowed to stay until the end of the game (he wasn’t in trouble….I just didn’t think he should stay out so late) so I dropped him off, spoke briefly with the family hosting, and then I sat in my car at a nearby restaurant and just read for a while. I just really could not do a large crowd or watch the game alone this year so I selected a book instead. I picked Rosebro2 up after the halftime show and hurried home so I could do laundry and he could watch the 2^nd half.

Rosebro2 complained that the 1^st half of the game was boring. And then he was mad about the result of the game. He was not pulling for the Rams, but he didn’t want the Patriots to win. I started thinking about that concept of pulling against someone to win. He wasn’t pulling for a team to win, he was pulling for a team to lose. Being the daughter of a coach, having been married to a trainer for over 20 years, and having a brother and 2 sons who have played sports, I’ve attended and watched more athletic events than I can count.  I’ve always had someone to pull for. While I hope the opposing team losing and my team would win, I have not watched a game hoping for a team to lose without having passion for the victory of my team.

I started thinking about us here at school. Can you imagine if we pulled against our students? This is one reason why I hate the statements of “we will see them in mugshots one day” or “nothing but trouble” or “will never amount to anything.” You see when I hear those statements, I am sad. I worry about our purpose or our why when we are pulling against a student.  When we root for students to lose, we aren’t fighting for them to win.

Some of our students have every reason to fail- bad home environment, lack of educated parents, trauma, transiency, attendance issues, or learning disabilities, yet we pull for them. We cheer them on, we give them everything we have and they succeed. We have other students who suffer from ADHD, anxiety, social issues, or lack of confidence. Yet, we love them into believing in themselves. We do that because we are pulling for them-not against them.

I hope when you’re thinking about your students, you are rooting for them. It may sound silly, but that mindset could be a “Game-changer” for a student.