Getting comfortable?

I’ll have to say right off that until yesterday, I had not read any of Frank McCourt’s books. The interview in NEA Today introduced him as an award winning author of Angela’s Ashes and Tis. He was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Biography in 1997. What interested me most about him was the nearly twenty years he taught in the New York City public schools.

He expressed his opinions about teaching, testing, lack of respect, and No Child Left Behind, and that if teaching were more  "sexy," or  fashionable, more people would be trying to get into the profession. He has the years of experience that I don’t have, so I defer to what he has to say. Not only has he taught almost three times longer than I have, but he taught in high schools, to teenagers during the post war times of the Eisenhower administration. A tough crowd of kids to impress, a tough crowd to teach.

I haven’t read his latest book yet, Teacher Man, but I have ordered it. I suppose it struck my interest because of the feeling of frenzy that develops this time of year in school.

Parents suddenly wake up to the fact that their kids are not doing well in a subject, or more than one subject, and they want to know why. It doesn’t matter that they’ve seen a total of at least four progress reports, including two report cards by now, or that they’ve had at least three phone calls informing them that their child is not turning in homework, or that newsletters go home with homework assignments and project due dates every week!

One thing Mr. McCourt noted (in the interview) that struck a familiar note was this:

"...it took me (fifteen years) to begin to feel comfortable in the classroom, so that I could enjoy myself. And I think that's much more intensive than any doctor's internship."

I hope I don't have to wait fifteen years!

Certainly there are many moments of delight and pleasure when someone grasps what I am teaching. There are days when the kids are on and the teaching is on, and we celebrate in the classroom together. The kids know genuine success when they see it. But when will I feel comfortable in the classroom?

Frank McCourt must have found the answer during those fifteen years he was adjusting to the climate of the classroom and the attitudes of the students (and parents, and other teachers).

Another thought is this: maybe we're not supposed to become comfortable in the teaching profession, or any profession. Maybe there is something in the nature of uncomfortableness that urges us to make changes in what we do and how we do it in order to decrease the discomfort, to make it familiar. And with familiarity, we are then more qualified for the next round of challenges.

Yes, that must be what it is! It's okay to be uncomfortable if it causes you to improve in some way, perfect in some way, to search for a more effective solution. I don't have to be comfortable in the classroom! As long as I'm trying to solve the problems I encounter on a regular basis, and as long as I'm seeing positive results, it is okay to be uncomfortable.

He ends the interview with this suggestion: "Find what you love and do it."

Blogging here at AOL is different than keeping a handwritten journal. There are options here that aren't available in my composition books that I'd never considered until I started enjoying them here.

One of the things I like about blogging is the entry-response factor. I make an entry, and someone is likely to respond, whether to say "good entry," just to let me know they came by for a visit, or to say "I understand," or a comment that extends from my entry and leads into their journal with a link. Either way, I am amused and warmed by some of the comments that visitors leave behind. Other times, I am made to reconsider my words, realizing that what I intended to express, and what was received by the reader may not be quite the same message. This reminds me to think carefully before I write, particularly when commenting on public things like education.

Another feature I benefit from is the public nature of blogging... I get to visit other people's journals and leave comments with them. Sometimes I just leave a brief "great entry!" just to let them know I was there, and other times I leave a little more, or a lot more because I had something to say about the topic, or just to share a similar experience, or to say I understand because I've been there.

Often, an email will follow, something more personal from the journaler, and I know I have made a new friend in another state. Journal Land journalers are the nicest people! They are encouraging, polite, thoughtful, and patient. I've read stories that were sad, painful, filled with anxiety and frustration, followed by comments from the readers, words that inspired, encouraged, supported, and motivated the journaler through their crisis. And the tags they send each other! They are adorable.

During the school week, I easily pick up on the humorous and the trivial entries of others, and will jump on the journal challenges that others create. Like the Einstein writing on the board today from John's By The Way, or the Ten things you see for yourself in the next five years. Responding to these entries, and reading others' responses to the same entry, is fun and light, and breaks the tension of the day for me. It's like having my own personal comedy central right here at the computer (well, that and my dogs... they keep me laughing, too!). That is why you may see several days of frivolous, silly, or entertaining entries about nothing serious. I need to do those entries just as much as I need to take the time to be more insightful about my work and my life.

I do like balance, though. So do the other journalers... spend some time cruising through anyone's journal and you are sure to find some serious essays on raising kids, developing friendships, finding romance, dealing with grief and loss, making life-changing decisions, and issues at work. Lots of work stories!

Tomorrow I will write about Frank McCourt, a Pulitzer Prize winning author. I just read an article about him today in an educational magazine, neatoday. Some things he said in the interview I read gave me pause, and I'd like to respond in my blog. Tomorrow.

Today, Steve was looking into getting tickets to see Cirque du Soleil because I had said I'd love to go see them. They're going to be performing in Greensboro at the Coliseum in May... tickets were $99.50 per person for the ground floor, and $89.50 for the first level!... I don't want to pay that kind of money to see them. I think they are pretty amazing aerialists, acrobats, and gymnasts, and I know they have huge expenses to move their show around the country, but I'll settle for the TV viewings. Maybe another day, but not this year!

It's been a restful day. Mostly I have piddled about between reading that great book I started yesterday, cuddling with my husband, vaccuuming the floors, bathing the dog, and reading that great book some more. It's been a very good day. Just what I needed. Actually, I need one of these kind of days more than once every two or three weeks... would love to have them every week, but our schedules don't make it so. Ah me, fact of life.

Einstein on board

John, at By The Way, sent out a fun and frivolous link. If you click on the first link in this line, you can go there too.

Help Einstein write something funny, poetic, or intelligent on the board. You can save it to your journal page, too, like I did, and leave a link so we can come see your Einstein wisdom.

I wrote a quote of his, a personal favorite of mine since he possessed both. He oughta know!

Saturday, New Book, and What to do?

I got the book... THE book... The Ghost Brigades by John Scalzi, ... it came in Thursday. I started reading it last night... great beginning! Can't write much now... will be back later. My hubby is home today, and we're considering our choices for today. What shall we do? Hmmm.

Weekend Assignment #100

Weekend Assignment #100: Share 10 facts about yourself -- from the next five years. Imagine what you see happening over the next half decade and then tell us about it, in interesting fact form. You can be serious, or silly, or somewhere in between. But give it some real thought and then take a stab at your future facts. If you find 10 facts too much, just do five. Either way it'll be fun.

Extra Credit: So, who's president in 2011?

1. In 2011, I am 58 years old, and by then my son is a full-fledged pharmacist.

2. Which means, he may be married by then, and I’ll be a grandmother by then. Hope. Smile.

3. If I am still teaching, I am in my 12th year. I am teaching at another school by then, having found that I needed a change in scenery by the end of 2007. Another school had called me in, offering not more money, but a chance to teach a small group of autistic kids. Very few teachers were willing to accept the job, so I jumped in.

4. My mother finally gives in and decides to let her kids take care of her, so in 2008, she moves in with me and my husband. We can not very well handle her in our limited space, and she is not comfortable with the arrangement either, so we buy a small home for her, and she moves in. It’s just five miles from our own home. We love it.

5. I didn’t take my doctor’s advice in 2006 to exercise regularly, so I have a heart attack in 2009. It is not severe, and I recuperate, however, it gives me time to think. I decide that the stress of teaching was the real cause, and I quit my job. I also start walking five days a week.

6. Since I now have time on my hands that I haven’t had in years, I journal like crazy for over a year, and during that time of reflection, I am inspired to write a book that I had been thinking about writing for years.

7. I follow the example of Karen, who is very famous for her Mavarin series that did very well across the country following its publication in early 2007. I buy all of her books as they are released, then do some research of my own. In 2010, and send my story out to various editors.

8. In the meantime, I paint a series of inspired watercolors that illustrate my walk of faith using metaphorical images.

9. My story is rejected by every editor that year, and I nearly give up, but Karen reminds me that she never gave up. She encourages and supports me, offering some names of editors who might be interested. I listen to her.

10. By 2011, I get a letter of hope from an infant publishing company, whose editor likes my story proposal and the first three chapters. She is willing to make me an offer. I accept it, and rewrite my story following her suggestions. Oh, and in the fall of that year, my husband and I attend the latest Science Fiction blockbuster, Old Man’s War. It sells more tickets in the first three days than Serenity did at the box office six years earlier.

 

If you'd like to participate, and write your own facts about yourself over the next five years, make an entry in your journal, then go to John' s site and leave a link. You can get to his website by clicking on the highlighted words at the beginning of this entry.

Seeing Stars: Photo Shoot Assignment

Monday Photo shoot: Seeing Stars

Your Monday Photos Shoot: Take a picture (or find a picture) of something with stars -- the "twinkle, twinkle" kind, not the "famous people" kind. However, they don't have to be real stars: Fake stars -- like the ones on Christmas trees, on neon signs or on the Hollywood Walk of Fame are just fine, too.

From John's journal page, By The Way.

I wasn't planning on doing this one until today when I saw these words posted above the computers in the workshop I attended all day:

Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you will land among the stars!

Well, I didn't have my camera to photograph the colorful banner, which included a universe of stars, but decided to use the photos I took here at  home to show the stars, in two contexts.

The first is the Christmas card my memere sent to us back in 1985. It is special because my grandmother didn't write many letters, nor send many cards. I am a saver of cards, and the one above finds its place of honor on a shelf or on the fireplace mantel every year because it reminds me of her boisterous and loving spirit. Her handwriting inside reads simply:

"From memere who loves youse all Big Steve small steve"

Now there was a woman who mastered brevity in her writing.

But I know the love was great that held the pen and mailed the card to me. She lived more than half her life in Connecticut, I believe. She spoke with a heavy Canadian French accent, claiming all my life that she came to our country in a banana boat, and that one of her descendants was an Indian princess (Canada region). Of course, I believed her. Her mother's last name was Montmity, but I know I'm misspelling it. She spoke fluent French, which is why, in high school and college, I took French instead of Spanish. I haven't used it since, but enjoy listening to it.

Whenever I hear someone speak French, I remember my memere, who could cook up a mean pot of pigs' feet. I never learned to like pigs' feet, but memere did, and I remember she'd have a pot for special occasions, like Thanksgiving Day, or just because the family was coming over. She loved to laugh and tell jokes, she loved Frank Sinatra (told me once he could eat crackers in her bed anytime), Lawrence Welk, and loved to teach her grandkids songs in French. We learned one that started "La petite fille de memere, allez belles ..." anyway, I don't remember all the words, but it was a naughty song, and she would laugh when her littlest ones sang it back to her. What a laugh that woman had! It's what I remember most about her.

The other object with stars is The Discoverers by Daniel Boorstin. If you click on view larger, you'll see the cover better. I loved the subtitle: A History of Man's Search to Know His World and Himself. Isn't that what we all do, search to know our world and ourselves?

If you look really close at the picture on the cover, you'll see the stars  in the night sky, and in the lower left corner, a man on his knees crawling at the edge of the known world, breaking through and peering into what may be the unknown world, leading him to yet undiscovered knowledge, inventions, and lands. I love this illustration representing man's discoveries, how throughout time man has discovered the things that today we take for granted, and possibly can't imagine living without.

The book is subdivided into four broad sections: Time (how we came to measure time, and make it portable), The Earth and Seas (history of man's discovery of the earth, the lands, the search, pilgrimages or invasions, for new lands and new trading routes), Nature (from the invisible, medical, and scientific, to giving everything a name, and evolution), and Society (history of history, writing, the impact Christianity and Islam had on the world, modern times discoveries of mathematical formulas, and the use of equations and statistics to make predictions). It's a lot to read, and someday, I will finish this book!

The jacket art credit on the back flap states that the picture is an early 16th century woodcut. Amazing, isn't it, that he captured an image of what captures our interest today.  Consider some of the expressions we use to express our desire to grow and learn, even today: "pushing the envelope"  "reaching for the stars", "the sky is the limit (though clearly, it isn't here!),  "searching to the ends of the earth" or "going boldly where no man has gone before!"

Maybe you can think of a few others related to this image. If you think of others, I'd love for you to write them in your comments. The book was published in 1983, Random House.

These are the stars I was thinking about today. The kind we want our kids to reach for.

 

Talent and Spiritual Gifts

This morning our congregation was treated to a worship service filled with the beautiful harmonizing voices of the Belles and Sons in Concert, a group of Senior High school Students from Southern Alamance High School. They were superb!

Several of our own youth were in the choir, and so proud we were when each one stepped up to do their solos.

In particular, a couple of the students I remember from long ago, when they were pre-school age or younger. I recall Jon as a toddler, cuddling in his mother's or father's lap, sitting in front of me.

I watched Jon, his sister, and his three cousins, grow up in our church. I taught them all Sunday School. I thank God for leading me into this area of service... had I not accepted the role, I know now how much I would have missed.

I would have missed planning all those Sunday School lessons, and then I would have missed the opportunity to teach the children about the Word of God, and the life of Jesus. I would have missed their questions, and their thoughts after we'd read a passage or a story. I would have missed their personal stories, suddenly  recalled as we discussed Jesus' teachings, and I would have missed their laughter and joy as they interpreted stories through role playing, painting pictures, or writing poems. I would not have heard their prayers, nor their songs, nor their words of encouragement to each other when difficult tasks were encountered. I would neither have heard wisdom from their own mouths. By far, that would have been a true loss.

Most of the kids I taught years ago have either graduated, or will graduate soon, and there are several others just beginning the youth group, and I miss them already.

I have a few kids that attend, not so regularly, but when they do, I am once again privileged to teach an old familiar story to a new set of ears. And once again, I can ask them, "What do you think Jesus meant when he said that?" or "What would you have done if you were (the leper, the blind man, the paralytic...etc)?" or any other question that would get them to think about what we had just read, and try to apply it to their own lives. Only from this vantage point can I see the spark in their eyes when they understand, when the story they may have heard a year or so ago now takes on new meaning because they are older.

Yes, they have to hear the old Bible stories over and over again. As their awareness increases, so does their capacity to understand, to generate new ideas, and to put what they learn into action.

Today, those children are young men and women. Their voices are in training. They have become disciplined in this way. They are using their natural talent to tell the Good News. As their Youth Chaplain explained it: your natural talent can be used to share your spiritual gift. The young people I heard singing were doing that this morning.

I know their mothers and fathers were proud of them. I smiled and shared their joy... we all did. This is the part of Christian life I love so much: the community of saints serving the Lord, raising their children with a common history and faith, and worshiping together.