It's hard for me to be patient, to sit still, to rest. I'm one of those people who would much rather stay busy 24/7 than actually have the downtime to sit around and do nothing. The problem with that is we, as Christians, are called to rest. We're called to pause, reflect and refocus.
Earlier this year, I had a plate much too full. I was overcommitted to the maximum degree, and rest was the last thing I was willing to do. How was I supposed to make time for rest when I had huge goals to accomplish alongside working and volunteering? There was simply not enough time to pause. So my days went by, one blur after the next.
At that point in time, I knew I needed to let something go. I knew I was juggling one too many things. There was teaching, coaching videos (soon to be my first year of coaching softball), leadership at church, marathon training, working on a novel, family time, friend time, etc. Throw into that mix two bible studies and a few other weekly commitments. It all seemed so good - so worthy of my time. I knew I needed to cut something, but how do you cut a "good" thing?
The more I prayed, the more I knew something had to go. Instead of doing anything about it, though, I just decided that if I worked that much harder, I could finish things quicker. Finishing things quicker would mean more time to rest. So that's what I did. I squeezed everything into my life as quickly as possible, which only left me feeling unfulfilled and exhausted. Nothing was done with full effort or full focus because I'd spread myself too thin. Not to mention, by the time I had time to rest, I was too tired to do any reflecting and refocusing.
My plans to pray and grow in my relationship with God while marathon training faltered. My brain was too all-over-the-place. Instead of praying and praising God, I made to-do lists in my mind. Marathon training began to be nothing more than a check on one of those to-do lists rather than the prayer time and solitude with God it'd been in the past.
Still, I refused to sit down. I grew more and more confident with my own abilities to get through each day, forgetting to spend quality time with God (time with God while in the midst of a mental fuzz is not quality time at all). I read through my bible, barely retaining anything and surely not letting the words take root in my heart. I wanted them to, but I wasn't patient enough to let them.
Then one day God sat me down. I couldn't run a mile without walking home limping. I had shin splints, tendonitis in my IT band and a sharp pain in my ankle that would not subside. If I'm being honest, I actually pushed through that pain for a while. I ran some sloppy and slow ten milers just to cross it off my to-do list. They were miserable runs with an even more miserable aftermath. I tried stretching, icing and all that jazz before a group of ladies in one of my bible studies convinced me to see a doctor.
The doctor sent to physical therapy for several weeks, where they tried every type of therapy, including dry needling, to get me back into running. My IT band and shin splints healed, but my ankle pain remained. My peroneal tendons wouldn't stop snapping out of place so they stayed inflamed.
God was trying to tell me to rest, but I was too stubborn to listen. I replaced my running time with time on a spin bike, determined to stay in shape - determined to still run the marathon - determined not to rest. But God had other plans. My ankle injury was one that required surgery, meaning marathoning was out of the question. This ankle surgery would also prevent me from walking and driving for 6 weeks. The only option I had left was to rest.
I don't think it fully hit me just how stubborn and prideful I was until one night about a week or so after my surgery when I tripped and fell face first to the ground. At first, I was worried that the fall had reinjured my healing ankle (it didn't). Then, I realized just what position I was in. Sprawled out on the floor, even though no one was around, there was no room for pride. I'd been completely humbled and the only thing left for me to do was praise God for letting me fall so that I could see just why He wanted my attention.
He wanted me to rest. Not just to sit down in a chair, but to rest in Him. He wanted me to refocus and reflect. The whole time I'd been looking for something good that could come out of having an injury, such as going on a mission trip or finishing a novel, and all the while, that something good was right in front of me. It was quality time with God.
Sunday, December 14, 2014
Sunday, November 16, 2014
#ProjectRippleEffect
If you somehow come across this blog, I challenge you to make a ripple in this world. There's enough negativity out there. Let's turn this world positive. Don't forget to use our hashtag when you make your ripple: #ProjectRippleEffect.
Need more information? The link below will take you to a video created by one of my eighth grade classes and an eighth grade computer class at my school.
The Project Ripple Effect link: http://youtu.be/Ced6_bt2aRY
If the video made you smile at all, don't let it end with you!
Need more information? The link below will take you to a video created by one of my eighth grade classes and an eighth grade computer class at my school.
The Project Ripple Effect link: http://youtu.be/Ced6_bt2aRY
If the video made you smile at all, don't let it end with you!
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
A Story of Heroes Untold
Let me tell you a story of heroes untold. No, it's not your typical hero story. This one goes much deeper than that, and it's much more real, much more transparent. You see, the heroes of which I speak are the real heroes, though they're the ones that often go unnoticed. They're the ones that often go unseen.
Some heroes are less than five feet in height. They're the ones born tenth in a family of ten, all by different fathers. They're covered in scars of neglect and abuse. At first, they're cautious. Then, in their own time, they climb into your lap and, at the same time, your heart. They chase your bus with tears streaming down their tiny cheeks when it's time for you to go because even in the midst of all their pain, they have not given up on love.
Some heroes slap on a smile when their world is collapsing from within. They talk a little loud. They laugh a little loud. But their secret is unheard. They tell no one their biggest fear. They tell no one their greatest hurt. They simply write, their paper bleeding the words of their heart, until one day the words on the paper are seen and one tiny bridge of trust is built. They, too, have not given up on love.
Some heroes are filled with jokes. They act out. They throw things. They seek all of the attention. At first, they seem obnoxious, but really, they're just holding on to the hope that someone out there cares and maybe, just maybe, that someone can understand what it's like to lose a sibling and make the pain go away. Day after day, week after week, they press on. Their hearts are ripped out of their chests, but still, they have not given up on love.
Some heroes take a wrong turn and end up on the path of destruction. They betray trust. They cause pain. But then, one day, they make a choice to change. It's a choice that takes everything they've got, but still, they choose to make it. They come out on the other end, happier and lighter. They know they've done wrong, and they do the only thing they can do: they apologize. It's an apology that steals every ounce of pride from them, yet for them, it's worth it because they have not given up on love.
There are many more heroes both similar to and different from those mentioned above. The point is that people can surprise you. Oftentimes, we look for heroes in all the wrong places when really, they're right in front of us. Their stories just haven't yet been told, or better yet, they haven't yet been heard. Believe it or not, a person doesn't have to look like a hero to be a hero. In fact, some of the greatest heroes in the world (at least in my opinion) are children and young people.
Some heroes are less than five feet in height. They're the ones born tenth in a family of ten, all by different fathers. They're covered in scars of neglect and abuse. At first, they're cautious. Then, in their own time, they climb into your lap and, at the same time, your heart. They chase your bus with tears streaming down their tiny cheeks when it's time for you to go because even in the midst of all their pain, they have not given up on love.
Some heroes slap on a smile when their world is collapsing from within. They talk a little loud. They laugh a little loud. But their secret is unheard. They tell no one their biggest fear. They tell no one their greatest hurt. They simply write, their paper bleeding the words of their heart, until one day the words on the paper are seen and one tiny bridge of trust is built. They, too, have not given up on love.
Some heroes are filled with jokes. They act out. They throw things. They seek all of the attention. At first, they seem obnoxious, but really, they're just holding on to the hope that someone out there cares and maybe, just maybe, that someone can understand what it's like to lose a sibling and make the pain go away. Day after day, week after week, they press on. Their hearts are ripped out of their chests, but still, they have not given up on love.
Some heroes take a wrong turn and end up on the path of destruction. They betray trust. They cause pain. But then, one day, they make a choice to change. It's a choice that takes everything they've got, but still, they choose to make it. They come out on the other end, happier and lighter. They know they've done wrong, and they do the only thing they can do: they apologize. It's an apology that steals every ounce of pride from them, yet for them, it's worth it because they have not given up on love.
There are many more heroes both similar to and different from those mentioned above. The point is that people can surprise you. Oftentimes, we look for heroes in all the wrong places when really, they're right in front of us. Their stories just haven't yet been told, or better yet, they haven't yet been heard. Believe it or not, a person doesn't have to look like a hero to be a hero. In fact, some of the greatest heroes in the world (at least in my opinion) are children and young people.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
God's Not Dead
It's unbelievable how God works to connect all the dots in our lives. It's not always clear what He's doing, but then, there's that moment where everything just seems to make sense. However fleeting that moment of clarity is, it's there, and God consumes you: heart, mind, soul, and spirit. And in that moment, He reveals to you the most special thing in the whole world - Himself.
As you already know (considering the name of my blog), this is my first year of teaching. What you may not know is I never in my wildest dream foresaw teaching in my life's plan. And by never, I mean never. But, God threw me for a loop, I chased after Him, and here I am now, closer to the end of year one than the beginning of it.
The moment I became a teacher I felt a peace surpassing my own understanding. I knew, then, that I was where God wanted me. To be honest, though, I didn't really understand why. Why a teacher? Why not something else? How could I live for God in the educational realm, a place where so many people try to crush Him?
Don't get me wrong. I know there are tons of teachers with a heart for the Lord. I am oh so blessed to work with so many of them. But, in general, I feel like education is crushing Christianity in this country. You go to classes, and you hear His name bashed time and time again. You hear how Christianity is nothing but a "myth." You hear how Christianity is dominant culture's way of enslaving others. You hear how Christianity is nothing more than a way of coping with death. And, to top it off, you hear how you should never discuss Christianity with your students because you might brainwash them to believe in something that could actually change their lives.
So, all year long, I've been sitting here praying, "God, what am I supposed to do? How do I make your name famous? And how do I do that without offending anyone (because I want others to see You for Your great love, not a bitter form of Christianity)?" There's been so much uncertainty. Is walking the walk without expressing the words enough? Is it even walking the walk if there are no words to follow? Do others see my love and compassion as an outpouring of the Lord or as me trying to please mankind?
That last question really gets me. I won't lie and say that the idol of man's approval does not sometimes stand in the way of me following God wholeheartedly. I am a people pleaser to the extreme - so much so that I have struggled with basing my self worth on other's opinions of me. That struggle has made me into an incredibly driven person. (I mean, I run marathons for crying out loud.) But, that struggle has also prevented me from doing the work of the Lord at times. I've stayed home before (and not just on one occasion) simply because I have felt inadequate to be out in the world. Sounds crazy, huh? But, I can guarantee you I am not the only female who has felt that way.
I don't think a lot of people realize how destructive self-image and the idol of approval can be. As for those who struggle with it, I don't think they realize that they're not alone in that struggle because it can be one of the most masked sins out there. I have never been honest about my own struggle with insecurity. I have always preferred for people to see me as someone who has it all figured out, even when I don't. But, doing that, I have prevented myself from being used fully by God (who tends to work most strongly in our weaknesses). And, I see that same struggle written in bold letters on the faces of so many youth, whether or not they admit it's there. As technology advances and selfies litter newsfeeds, the struggle seems to only increase tenfold. No one's as perfect as the seflies or popular profiles that they stare at for more hours than they would ever dare spend in the Word of God. I would argue that insecurity is one of the most hidden and destructive sins (sometimes not even recognized as the sin it is) running rampant today.
Over the past week, God has taught me an infinite amount as I have had the pleasure of watching some of my students, as well as a certain youth who I consider my littler sister (even though she's taller than me), grow in Christ at a church retreat, and as I took a stone representing my most crippling sin (insecurity coupled with the idol of approval) and tossed it into the ocean. Free at last.
All that to say, as much as I loved teaching and cherished the kids in my classes earlier this year, I wasn't yet ready to let go of my own struggle to seek God in a way that the answers to my questions even mattered beyond a surface level. I still don't have all the answers to my questions, but one thing I know for sure, His ways are good and His burden is light. All that I can do is chase after Him with all that I am and keep on loving my students with every fiber of my being. And, maybe that's all God wants me to know. That one glimpse of clarity. That one piece of understanding. The truth that God can and will work in us despite our understanding of His plans.
Maybe you're like me, and you have questions of your own. But, isn't it comforting to know that He has all the dots of our lives connected, even when we cannot see the lines? God's Not Dead!
As you already know (considering the name of my blog), this is my first year of teaching. What you may not know is I never in my wildest dream foresaw teaching in my life's plan. And by never, I mean never. But, God threw me for a loop, I chased after Him, and here I am now, closer to the end of year one than the beginning of it.
The moment I became a teacher I felt a peace surpassing my own understanding. I knew, then, that I was where God wanted me. To be honest, though, I didn't really understand why. Why a teacher? Why not something else? How could I live for God in the educational realm, a place where so many people try to crush Him?
Don't get me wrong. I know there are tons of teachers with a heart for the Lord. I am oh so blessed to work with so many of them. But, in general, I feel like education is crushing Christianity in this country. You go to classes, and you hear His name bashed time and time again. You hear how Christianity is nothing but a "myth." You hear how Christianity is dominant culture's way of enslaving others. You hear how Christianity is nothing more than a way of coping with death. And, to top it off, you hear how you should never discuss Christianity with your students because you might brainwash them to believe in something that could actually change their lives.
So, all year long, I've been sitting here praying, "God, what am I supposed to do? How do I make your name famous? And how do I do that without offending anyone (because I want others to see You for Your great love, not a bitter form of Christianity)?" There's been so much uncertainty. Is walking the walk without expressing the words enough? Is it even walking the walk if there are no words to follow? Do others see my love and compassion as an outpouring of the Lord or as me trying to please mankind?
That last question really gets me. I won't lie and say that the idol of man's approval does not sometimes stand in the way of me following God wholeheartedly. I am a people pleaser to the extreme - so much so that I have struggled with basing my self worth on other's opinions of me. That struggle has made me into an incredibly driven person. (I mean, I run marathons for crying out loud.) But, that struggle has also prevented me from doing the work of the Lord at times. I've stayed home before (and not just on one occasion) simply because I have felt inadequate to be out in the world. Sounds crazy, huh? But, I can guarantee you I am not the only female who has felt that way.
I don't think a lot of people realize how destructive self-image and the idol of approval can be. As for those who struggle with it, I don't think they realize that they're not alone in that struggle because it can be one of the most masked sins out there. I have never been honest about my own struggle with insecurity. I have always preferred for people to see me as someone who has it all figured out, even when I don't. But, doing that, I have prevented myself from being used fully by God (who tends to work most strongly in our weaknesses). And, I see that same struggle written in bold letters on the faces of so many youth, whether or not they admit it's there. As technology advances and selfies litter newsfeeds, the struggle seems to only increase tenfold. No one's as perfect as the seflies or popular profiles that they stare at for more hours than they would ever dare spend in the Word of God. I would argue that insecurity is one of the most hidden and destructive sins (sometimes not even recognized as the sin it is) running rampant today.
Over the past week, God has taught me an infinite amount as I have had the pleasure of watching some of my students, as well as a certain youth who I consider my littler sister (even though she's taller than me), grow in Christ at a church retreat, and as I took a stone representing my most crippling sin (insecurity coupled with the idol of approval) and tossed it into the ocean. Free at last.
All that to say, as much as I loved teaching and cherished the kids in my classes earlier this year, I wasn't yet ready to let go of my own struggle to seek God in a way that the answers to my questions even mattered beyond a surface level. I still don't have all the answers to my questions, but one thing I know for sure, His ways are good and His burden is light. All that I can do is chase after Him with all that I am and keep on loving my students with every fiber of my being. And, maybe that's all God wants me to know. That one glimpse of clarity. That one piece of understanding. The truth that God can and will work in us despite our understanding of His plans.
Maybe you're like me, and you have questions of your own. But, isn't it comforting to know that He has all the dots of our lives connected, even when we cannot see the lines? God's Not Dead!
Monday, February 17, 2014
If I Could Do Anything in the World...
It's been a long time since I have posted. I don't really have a good excuse. I could say I've been too busy to keep up with a blog, but that excuse has grown cliché. I'm not too busy. Not really. There was a time, just a good week or two, that I felt like I was drowning in paperwork, but that time has gone. I'm no longer juggling graduate school, teaching, and marathon training. Now, I get to be fully focused on the most important thing of all, and, no, it's not my student's education. It's their lives.
I never thought there were enough hours in a day to genuinely care about nearly 160 students, but God has taught me otherwise. There's more than enough time in a day to love others. The key is you can't look at yourself so much.
I can honestly say there's never a dull moment in my classroom. At the beginning of the year, I set out to make grammar studies interesting. It's not always easy to do. I'm an English nerd, and I think grammar is about as interesting as a dead bug. But, that's because worksheets and book work are not my thing. I always hated doing "busy work." If you don't have to think about what you're doing, what's the point? It's just a hand cramp waiting to happen. Five minutes after the work is done, it is forgotten. It's like reading several pages of a book before realizing you didn't comprehend a thing. Not at all what I want for my students. Not now. Not ever.
Come to find out, grammar can be transformed into something interesting. It's like C.S. Lewis once said, "You can make anything by writing." And you can. My classes have stripped the dust from grammar studies and brought them to life. What do I mean by that?
Well, we've been through a criminal investigation while simultaneously investigating the text for errors. We've used criminal evidence to convict a character of a crime while simultaneously using textual evidence to strengthen an argument. We've created characters from nothing more than a "Student Interest Survey." Round characters, too. Characters with a background. Characters with social media. We've written children's books and examined dental charts to explore text features. We've interviewed one another and written biographies (past, present, and future) to study verb tenses. We've even thrown in a few Angry Verbs (thanks to Pinterest). We've learned to think beyond a straightforward answer using texts revolving around mysteries. We've learned to use vocabulary rather than memorize vocabulary by writing essays, narratives, arguments, etc. We've learned to write dialogue by watching Pixar short films without dialogue. We've learned to write poetry by analyzing poetry like the Inklings. We've learned that even though the writer writes the story, half the job belongs to the reader (I may write stories and share them with my kids, but the answers are for them to find, not me to tell). We've learned that reading and writing go hand-in-hand. We've learned that writing is for everyone - it's just the platform and/or the audience that changes. Most importantly, though, we've learned that we all have a voice.
Aside from praying for my students, getting to talk to them about life and seeing them smile, writer's notebooks are my favorite part about teaching. Within the notebooks, my students really open up. They write about hopes, dreams, struggles. They ask questions, request advice, tell stories. The pages they write are pieces of who they are, and let me tell you, my students are something special. I'd like the whole world to know that. The kids who walk into my classroom every day are the most incredible people I have ever met. They all have a story. Ready to be shared. Waiting to be heard.
If I could do anything in the world, it would be to change the world for all of my students. By that, I don't mean to go out and change the world on a big scale. I simply mean that I would do anything to change the world that each student sees through his/her own eyes. To take the frowns and turn them into smiles. To take the negatives and turn them into positives. To take the "I cannots" and turn them into "I cans." After all, my students have changed the world for me. It's the least I can do for them.
I never thought there were enough hours in a day to genuinely care about nearly 160 students, but God has taught me otherwise. There's more than enough time in a day to love others. The key is you can't look at yourself so much.
I can honestly say there's never a dull moment in my classroom. At the beginning of the year, I set out to make grammar studies interesting. It's not always easy to do. I'm an English nerd, and I think grammar is about as interesting as a dead bug. But, that's because worksheets and book work are not my thing. I always hated doing "busy work." If you don't have to think about what you're doing, what's the point? It's just a hand cramp waiting to happen. Five minutes after the work is done, it is forgotten. It's like reading several pages of a book before realizing you didn't comprehend a thing. Not at all what I want for my students. Not now. Not ever.
Come to find out, grammar can be transformed into something interesting. It's like C.S. Lewis once said, "You can make anything by writing." And you can. My classes have stripped the dust from grammar studies and brought them to life. What do I mean by that?
Well, we've been through a criminal investigation while simultaneously investigating the text for errors. We've used criminal evidence to convict a character of a crime while simultaneously using textual evidence to strengthen an argument. We've created characters from nothing more than a "Student Interest Survey." Round characters, too. Characters with a background. Characters with social media. We've written children's books and examined dental charts to explore text features. We've interviewed one another and written biographies (past, present, and future) to study verb tenses. We've even thrown in a few Angry Verbs (thanks to Pinterest). We've learned to think beyond a straightforward answer using texts revolving around mysteries. We've learned to use vocabulary rather than memorize vocabulary by writing essays, narratives, arguments, etc. We've learned to write dialogue by watching Pixar short films without dialogue. We've learned to write poetry by analyzing poetry like the Inklings. We've learned that even though the writer writes the story, half the job belongs to the reader (I may write stories and share them with my kids, but the answers are for them to find, not me to tell). We've learned that reading and writing go hand-in-hand. We've learned that writing is for everyone - it's just the platform and/or the audience that changes. Most importantly, though, we've learned that we all have a voice.
Aside from praying for my students, getting to talk to them about life and seeing them smile, writer's notebooks are my favorite part about teaching. Within the notebooks, my students really open up. They write about hopes, dreams, struggles. They ask questions, request advice, tell stories. The pages they write are pieces of who they are, and let me tell you, my students are something special. I'd like the whole world to know that. The kids who walk into my classroom every day are the most incredible people I have ever met. They all have a story. Ready to be shared. Waiting to be heard.
If I could do anything in the world, it would be to change the world for all of my students. By that, I don't mean to go out and change the world on a big scale. I simply mean that I would do anything to change the world that each student sees through his/her own eyes. To take the frowns and turn them into smiles. To take the negatives and turn them into positives. To take the "I cannots" and turn them into "I cans." After all, my students have changed the world for me. It's the least I can do for them.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
One of Those Days or a Blessing in Disguise?
Monday could have very easily been labeled "One of those days..." I woke up, knocked down the refrigerator shelf, kicked over the dog's food bowl, and received a text that broke my heart. That was all before I arrived to school with a misprinted set of lesson plans and all the wrong handouts. One of those days, right?
Wrong.
The refrigerator shelf clicked back into place after falling a few more times. The dog food was gathered and placed back in the bowl. The text that broke my heart simultaneously furthered my compassion for my kids. The misprinted lesson plans were workable. And, my mom (thank the Lord for the incredible woman that she is!) got all the right handouts to me before the bell rang for homeroom.
I am thankful for Monday. I am thankful for all the days that do not go my way. I am even thankful for the trials I have been through in my life. Those are the times, those are the moments, that help me to see my kids for more than they are on the surface.
Wrong.
The refrigerator shelf clicked back into place after falling a few more times. The dog food was gathered and placed back in the bowl. The text that broke my heart simultaneously furthered my compassion for my kids. The misprinted lesson plans were workable. And, my mom (thank the Lord for the incredible woman that she is!) got all the right handouts to me before the bell rang for homeroom.
I am thankful for Monday. I am thankful for all the days that do not go my way. I am even thankful for the trials I have been through in my life. Those are the times, those are the moments, that help me to see my kids for more than they are on the surface.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Write FOR Them
Being a teacher is truly a beautiful thing. I cannot even begin to describe how amazing it is to go to work every day and never even feel like you are working. C.S. Lewis once said, "True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it's thinking of yourself less." Let me just tell you, I have never been more humbled in all of my life. There is no time to think about yourself when you have over a hundred young people looking up to you. I think of my students all the time. I pray for them all the time. I want their success more than my own.
Last week, I shared a story with my kids. The story was one of friendship and loss. It was about the life changing power of having someone believe in you. The story was my very own. It was about the loss of my best friend, Caroline. Sharing my story, I bonded with my kids on a whole new level. I saw tears in their eyes as I read about the friendship that ultimately led me to becoming a teacher. I then told my students about the power of writing and the power of believing in one another. It really hits home to them when you make things up close and personal. The students begin to see you as a real person, and they begin to open up in ways you could never imagine.
One student shared with me a story about his best friend who survived a car accident but was never the same again. One student went home that night and wrote a story about a best friend who left her behind for a new best friend and asked me in private to read it.
Reflecting on the power of stories (particularly the stories that are a part of me), I decided that sharing one story wasn't good enough. While running 16 miles, I connected the dots of my life in my head. I spent most of my life chasing after a dental degree (not to mention, I have a dental family) so I know more about dentistry than the average person. So, how could that knowledge benefit my students?
Easy. Last week, several of my classes began writing thrillers. They read Poe's "Tell-Tale Heart" so I wanted them to mimic the suspenseful style by writing thrillers of their own. They were to pay attention to syntax and incorporate vocabulary words into their thrillers. Well, my connection came when I remembered that I wrote a dental thriller in college. I pulled up the thriller and added my kids' vocabulary words to the story. All this week, thanks to my aunt, my classes are learning about text features and dentistry. Friday, we will read my dental thriller, and I will come to class dressed as a dentist. They get to decide on their own who they think is the murderer using clues from the text. Bam, there's a lesson on textual evidence.
I am an idealist. Sometimes ideas work out a lot better in my head than they do in reality. But, so far this week, my kids have responded incredibly well to the dental theme. They have been so curious about all the supplies I have brought in. My 7th period kiddos were arguing about who got to keep whatever supplies was leftover from the day. Let me assure you that it was nothing worth keeping. But, the fact that they wanted the supplies showed me that they had some special connection to it.
Not to mention, before I walked into 7th period, one of my first period kids walked past the classroom and told the students that they were going to have so much fun in class.
I cannot wait for Friday. I hope the rest of the week will blow their little minds (in a good way)! If it does, I have already got some tricks up my sleeve for next week. :)
Last week, I shared a story with my kids. The story was one of friendship and loss. It was about the life changing power of having someone believe in you. The story was my very own. It was about the loss of my best friend, Caroline. Sharing my story, I bonded with my kids on a whole new level. I saw tears in their eyes as I read about the friendship that ultimately led me to becoming a teacher. I then told my students about the power of writing and the power of believing in one another. It really hits home to them when you make things up close and personal. The students begin to see you as a real person, and they begin to open up in ways you could never imagine.
One student shared with me a story about his best friend who survived a car accident but was never the same again. One student went home that night and wrote a story about a best friend who left her behind for a new best friend and asked me in private to read it.
Reflecting on the power of stories (particularly the stories that are a part of me), I decided that sharing one story wasn't good enough. While running 16 miles, I connected the dots of my life in my head. I spent most of my life chasing after a dental degree (not to mention, I have a dental family) so I know more about dentistry than the average person. So, how could that knowledge benefit my students?
Easy. Last week, several of my classes began writing thrillers. They read Poe's "Tell-Tale Heart" so I wanted them to mimic the suspenseful style by writing thrillers of their own. They were to pay attention to syntax and incorporate vocabulary words into their thrillers. Well, my connection came when I remembered that I wrote a dental thriller in college. I pulled up the thriller and added my kids' vocabulary words to the story. All this week, thanks to my aunt, my classes are learning about text features and dentistry. Friday, we will read my dental thriller, and I will come to class dressed as a dentist. They get to decide on their own who they think is the murderer using clues from the text. Bam, there's a lesson on textual evidence.
I am an idealist. Sometimes ideas work out a lot better in my head than they do in reality. But, so far this week, my kids have responded incredibly well to the dental theme. They have been so curious about all the supplies I have brought in. My 7th period kiddos were arguing about who got to keep whatever supplies was leftover from the day. Let me assure you that it was nothing worth keeping. But, the fact that they wanted the supplies showed me that they had some special connection to it.
Not to mention, before I walked into 7th period, one of my first period kids walked past the classroom and told the students that they were going to have so much fun in class.
I cannot wait for Friday. I hope the rest of the week will blow their little minds (in a good way)! If it does, I have already got some tricks up my sleeve for next week. :)
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