Random thoughts on "Hotlanta"

As I begin yet another adventure vacation, my mind is already swirling with the lessons learned on the first day. We spent today in Atlanta...a city decidedly different from most of the cities in Florida...much larger, older, historic and much more populous! Stop number one was the World of Coca Cola. I've wanted to visit this for a long time and this year I finally worked it into the itinerary. I love all the pop culture history...advertisements and artifacts from the past 100+ years of Coca Cola. I also love to see how things get made. The final stop on the tour (right before the obligatory exit through the retail shop) is a vast room filled with fountains where you can sample all sorts of sodas that Coke bottles all around the world. The floor is sticky...(remember those Raid roach motels? It's kinda like that but for humans)...sticky from probably gallons of soda dropped on the floor by kids who trek through on summer camp field trips. I began to feel quite sorry for the poor folks whose job it is to mop the floors....constantly. It's got to be one of the most frustrating jobs on earth...a bit like trying to empty the ocean with a thimble. Lesson learned here...remember when school starts back up that there are more frustrating ways to make a living! If you go...you must try the soda called "Beverly". I was introduced to it by a friend, now I highly recommend it to you...let me know what you think if you ever try it. Stop number two was the Georgia Aquarium. Without a doubt, the best aquarium I have visited. It is huge and very entertaining. It is a bit on the expensive side, but well worth it in my opinion. Lesson here..and this is going to seem a bit snarky to some (So I apologize, as no offense is intended)..I think there must be some sort of hypnotic feature in strollers that causes some people pushing them to be completely oblivious to everyone else. The larger the stroller...the greater the force. It causes the some operators to park them in such a way that they block narrow passageways and doorways, operate them in a way that causes them to roll over peoples' feet and up the backs of their legs. Lessons to be learned here: be cognizant of said strollers, steer clear, and remember to always be considerate of those around me...especially in large crowds! Next stop, Nashville. More lessons to come, I'm sure.

Lessons from Thirteen Lucky Years of Teaching

Thirteen years of teaching.  It's hard to imagine.  I have learned an incredible amount since those first days, and this year was no different.  Some of the lessons have been hard, some humorous.  Here goes.

Lesson #1:  As positive and wonderful as a good teacher can be for a child, a bad parent has an exponentially greater potential for damage in a child.   It breaks my heart and makes me angry to see parents who seem to have little time to put into their child's academic development.  The pats on the back, positive words and high fives that I give to these children in my 55 minute class often can do little to undo the years of neglect and unkindness that a parent may have heaped on a child.   I wish everyone understood that.

Lesson #2:  Many eighth grade boys are walking bags of hormones with liberal doses of scatological humor mixed in.  I'll never be able to speak or hear the following words/phrases with the same mind set again:

• beaver
• tap
• Black Hawk (say it fast)
• General Hooker
• score
• ball
• bang
• nail
• poll
• duty

Lesson #3:   A sense of humor should be a job requirement for being a middle school teacher.  The daily assault of crazy events, rules, procedures, data, evaluations, directives and behaviors that seem to make little if any sense demand it.  The only way to cope with it is a sense of humor....especially a sarcastic one.  From this was born my new meaning for the acronym RtI....requires total intoxication.  Ya'll know what I mean.

Lesson #4:  Having a great group of colleagues, many of whom you can also call friends, is also essential.  I am so lucky to work with so many people that make me a better teacher and a better person.  They are the kind of people I don't mind hanging out with anytime.  They make me laugh hysterically, even when I don't feel like I have anything to laugh about.

Lesson #5:  Learn to say "no." I get a great deal of satisfaction from helping others.  I find it hard to say "no" when someone asks me to help out.  I am working on it.  I cut myself enough "mental slack" to say no to more than one after school activity this year and made more time for stuff I want to do.  I don't regret it one bit.

Lesson #6:  Two of the best pieces of advice I ever got as a pre-service teacher truly made a difference this year.  The first piece of advice was that its important to forgive yourself, "today is the first day of the rest of your career."  As we humans are prone to do, I made some mistakes.  I forgive myself and strive to be a better person and teacher tomorrow.  The second piece of advice was to pick and choose one's battles.  I am not the kind of teacher who hunts down kids for gum or other minor rule infractions that probably 90% of us broke at some point in our own childhoods.  I don't have the energy to put into it.  I put my energy into teaching and having as much fun as I can while doing it.  My behaviorally challenging kids this year reminded me that some battles really don't matter all that much in the long run.

Lesson #7:  When all else fails, a good glass of Merlot or Pinot Grigio is a great mental salve at the end of the day.  Or a mani-pedi.  Or both.

Adventure vacations

It is something of a joke in my family that we don’t take vacations, we go on “adventures.”  Every family trip I can remember involved some sort of adventure, usually of the un-planned kind.  The best one involved my great grandmother’s home-made fried cinnamon sugar donuts, a windy road in upstate New York, Ziploc bags, and the “return” of the recently consumed donuts (if you get my drift).  My most recent vacation is, of course, no exception.

My husband and I are of two different minds when it comes to vacations.  I spend most of the days of my working life a relatively high level of engagement....called to respond to the demands of 100+ needy adolescents as well as those of my family.  I work, work out, come home and work some more...by the time I sit down at night, I'm exhausted, mentally and physically.  My husband, on the other hand, works from home.  He spends most of his day in solitude, occasionally speaking to other humans via instant message or video conferencing.  Where I crave a slow, more relaxed pace during my vacations, Dan demands action and excitement.  This is usually where the adventure gets added in…
Our first “adventure” in the Keys involved snorkeling at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State park.  If you have never been, you take a half-hour boat trip out to the coral reef, snorkel at the reef in the Atlantic Ocean for an hour, and then take the half-hour boat ride back.  I have been on boats many times before (my grandparents always had a boat) and I’ve snorkeled a bit, so I figured I had this well in hand.  The boat ride out was fine…beautiful water, sun, warm breezes.  The waves were rough because, as I came to learn, March is extremely windy in the keys.  The Atlantic is quite choppy for this reason.  But I enthusiastically jumped in the water and started to snorkel.  I saw barracuda, coral, conchs, all sorts of beautifully colored tropical fish.  But then I started to get nauseous.  REALLY nauseous.  I wanted to keep snorkeling, so I pushed it out of my mind.  I got back on the boat at the end of the hour, feeling that my breakfast was going to make a return appearance very, very soon.  As soon as I got on the boat, though, the nausea subsided.  Doesn’t that seem the complete opposite of what most people experience?  Don’t most people feel sick on the boat but fine in the water??  My sister pointed out that, for a Szuba, this seemed perfectly logical.  We have a tendency to do things all backwards.
Our next adventure came on Jet Skis.  I’ve never jet skied before, so I was scared.  But I pushed the fear down and climbed aboard.  The guide told me as I pushed off the shore, “remember, the throttle is your friend.”  I thought to myself, “I’ve got this then….I’ve got a heavy lead foot…surely I can handle some speed on a jet ski.”  I took off following the guide in a single file line…I listened to him and he described our upcoming journey and continued to push my fear down to some place that hoped it wouldn’t find me.  We took off…and I fell in line.  The people on the skis ahead of me sped along in a zig zag path, seeming to move effortlessly.  I, on the other hand, gripped the handlebars with a force that can scarcely be described. 
When the time came to stop and for me to raise my hand to signal people behind me to stop, I found I had to pry my hand from the handlebar; I had to force my fingers out of the curved position into which they had become frozen .  The guide gave us a few more pointers and described some sights, asked if I was ok, and I gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up that really didn’t describe the stupefying fear that was welling up inside of me.  I plowed ahead.  I began to realize that my muscles were so tense, that I was gripping the handlebars with such force, that I was unable to turn the Jet Ski correctly.  In fact, I was gripping it so hard and tensing my muscles so much that it was constantly pulling to the left (my stronger shoulder).  I began to panic and fear that I would be lost out in the Atlantic Ocean forever!  Sharks would tear at my flesh!  I would drown!  I would starve!  I would get sun burnt!  All sorts of irrational fears ran through my head.  This is at the same time that I am supposed to be driving a powerful machine and following directions.  I dug deep, pushing the fear and the panic back again, and found the strength to relax and enjoy the remainder of the trip (really, I’m not quite sure how.)  When the trip was over, when my husband asked what we should do next, my emphatic answer was ‘RELAX ON THE BEACH.” 
So we headed to Fort Zachary Taylor State Park.  We sunscreened up, toured the fort while our sunscreen absorbed, and then headed to the beach.  The CLOTHING OPTIONAL beach.  If you’ve never taken a 16 year old boy to a clothing optional beach, try it.  Just for kicks and giggles.  Needless to say, my relaxation was cut short.  When we finally ended up at Bahia Honda State Park (the Key’s only natural sandy beach), I was ready to relax in the sun.  My husband asked if I wanted to snorkel some more; he doesn’t understand how I can be having “fun” if I’m not doing stuff.  But really, after what I’d already done that day, sitting on the beach and reading a book is about all the fun and adventure I can handle. 
And two days later, I’m still sore from the death grip on that Jet Ski.  What have I learned?  Two things:

1.       I’m adventured out.

2.      The mind is a pretty powerful thing, if you can control it.

The Mid-life NON-Crisis

Some of life's best lessons come when you least expect it.  That's the case with the lesson that inspired me this week.  I have so many wonderful friends, some close, some that I just see every now and then.  They touch me in ways they can't even imagine.  I know in my heart that God sends them to me just when I need them.  That's the case with the lesson that inspired me this week.

I turn 40 in April.  For many people, the mere thought of hitting 40--a point at which most consider themselves to be "middle aged"--is enough to send them into crisis mode.  Some people won't even divulge their real age after they hit 30.  I must admit that 30 was tough for me. I never imagined myself at 30 and it was a bit difficult to accept.  For a while, I told people that I was turning 25 for the fifth, sixth, seventh time and so on each year when my birthday rolled around.  Forty, however, is a different story entirely.

I know why people dread 40.  Things start to fall apart in your thirties.  You start forgetting things.  You walk into rooms and can't remember why the heck you went in there.  You can't remember everything on your grocery or to-do lists unless you write it down.  Body parts that never gave you a lick of trouble before suddenly begin to trouble you for what seems like no reason at all.  The thought of staying up past 10...on a school night (!)...becomes incredibly crazy.  Some foods that you love start to betray you....turning on you in ways you thought could only happen to your parents and grandparents.

All of these things have been visited upon me in various ways in the last ten years.  And yet, I still wouldn't want to be 25 again.  This might seem crazy but when I look at where I was 15 years ago, I know I wouldn't want to go back.  This reasons why are many:

• When I was 25, I was morbidly obese. 
• I was going to college, working on a second bachelors degree because I couldn't teach in Tennessee without it. 
• My job at the time was at as an assistant manager at a Hallmark store in Tennessee. 
• I still lived at home.
• I was essentially broke most of the time, except on payday.

Today my life is vastly different.  I'm not "skinny," but I'm at a much healthier place.  I'm stronger, healthier, and more powerful than I have ever been in my life. I can do push-ups on my toes...a feat I would never have even imagined at 25.  I ran a 5K two years ago...I couldn't have run 5 meters 15 years ago.  I work out 3 or 4 days a week, for at least an hour.  The idea of working out never crossed my mind in my 20s.  I have my masters degree now (OK, I never finished the second bachelors degree, I'm still one class shy, but who cares now???).  I've been teaching--a job I love 95% of the time--for twelve and half years now.  I feel confident and comfortable in my place at work; I work with people who are amazing educators.  They drive me to a higher place professionally every day.  I will never get rich teaching, but I my financial picture is far better than it was back when I was 25.  All of these are reasons why I embrace 40 rather than fear it.  For me, it is the beginning of the next amazing chapter in my life!

The bottom line is a wondeful quote posted on Facebook by one of those friends I see every now and then:

Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have NOT;  remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for. 

Thanks, Lisa and Leigh Ann.

How Beavis and Butthead ruined my day

Okay, perhaps that is a bit dramatic.  They didn't ruin my day.  I actually like the show and think it is pretty funny.  If you didn't already know, Beavis and Butthead are back with brand new episodes on MTV.  I remember being a first year teacher, teaching 9th, 10th, and 11th grade when the show first came out.  That was about 15 years ago.  The boys in my classes loved the show.  The lines "heh, heh, she said __________" and "FIRE, FIRE FIRE!" were repeated over and over with glee.

Now the show is back and the fun has returned.  If you've ever spent much time with the average adolescent boy, you know that they are very hormonally driven.  For most of them sex is on their brains, even if they're not sharing it with you.  Beavis and Butthead are very much charicatures of the average teenage boy; after all, humor is best when it is based on a kernel of truth.

And that is how Beavis and Butthead have begun to make my days challenging.  Teenage boys are finding lots of scatological humor in things that really seem like normal everyday stuff to the average adult.  Through some random twist of fate, my students are about 66% boys; teenage boy humor permeates my days.  Yesterday's lesson was an example:  we learned about the rights, responsibilities, and duties of being and American citizen.  Each class I heard snickers of, "heh, heh, she said DUTIES." 

I have a class set of iPads, given to me as a part of a grant.  If you've ever used an iPad, you know that you tap things on the screen to get them to work (it is the equivalent of clicking things with a mouse on a regular computer.)  When demonstrating different apps, I've had to break myself of the habit of telling my students to "tap that" if I want to avoid a chorus of "heh, heh, she said tap that."

 The examples keep on coming:  caucus, Benedict Arnold (who my students insist on calling "Benedick"), privateers, Lake Titicaca and carpetbaggers.  Even simple words like score, ball, bang, nail, pole....they're all potential land mines. 

I've learned that it's not enough to be careful what I say; I have to learn to think like Beavis and Butthead if I want to make it through each day with any sort of classroom management!

Burnt Toast Mom

Twenty twelve has just begun and has been spent mostly being lazy.  I think the best way to begin the year is with a bit of retrospect.  Two thousand and eleven will be known as the year I learned to love myself.  Anyone who has known me for a very long time knows that I have struggled with my weight.  I don't take compliments, personally or professionally, easily.  They make me uncomfortable.  I love my friends, family and co-workers for complementing me; don't misunderstand.  I just feel awkward...like I don't deserve it.  I don't know why; maybe it's that famous "Catholic guilt."

I decided in 2011 to stop being "burnt toast mom," settling for the burnt toast, second best, the leftovers, etc.  Sometimes I was successful.  Sometimes I wasn't.  I made more time for myself, made more effort to do things that I liked to do.  Tried to ignore guilt for not following the crowd and going my own way.  Tried to accept complements and believe that I had earned them.

What did I learn? 
1.  Sometimes, having nothing to do is the greatest luxury in the world.  
2.  A slightly messy house is not the end of the world. 
3.  Papers will get graded, eventually, and lesson plans will get written.  
4.  I'm not the only person I live with who can do laundry or empty and/or load the dishwasher or operate the vacuum.
5.  Yes, I deserve that pedicure and that new outfit and that glass of wine.
6.  The gym will be there tomorrow, and the day after that, too.

Finally, and most importantly, that I am important.  I deserve to be happy just the way I am.  I deserve to be loved and desired for who I am,  not for what anyone else might want me to be.   The really cool thing is that I get to keep working on this in 2012.  The only cruddy thing is that it took me 39 years of my life to figure this out! 

For a long time, my husband has pestered me to start a blog.  "You're a good writer, surely you have something interesting to say."  For a long time, I haven't really felt like I did have anything interesting to say.  In retrospect, that seems like a funny thing for a teacher to say; my bread and butter is having "interesting" things to say......or at least saying boring things in an interesting way!

For the first couple of years that this idea was forming, I was working on my masters degree.  Writing as a leisure activity was out of the question as I churned out a weekly research paper.  Then I finished my degree, but I still had no idea what I could share with the world.  So for another year, I wracked my brain trying to come up with something that I could write about. 

In the end, it all comes back to my job.  My parents used to tell me that you should learn something everyday.  I joke about it at work; when I learn something, I sometimes say, "well, I've learned something, can I go home now?"  I happened to be readng a book over the holiday break in which the author contended that learning is something students are supposed to do all the time, while teachers only do it some of the time.  This statement really struck me. "I try to learn something every single day!" I thought. 

So I decided that could be a place to start my blog.  As my 40th birthday approaches, surely I've learned, and continue to learn, some things that might be interesting or of value to others.  This won't be a deeply philosophical blog.  I have too much going on in my life for that.  Every day, however, things strike me as interesting or I begin to see things in new and different ways.  So that's what I will write about!