On Teaching...

Once upon a time I was a young unergrad studying to become a teacher. I remember vividly one morning during my Education Psychology class the professor asked why we wanted to become teachers. This started a lovely conversation about going into education because of the love of children. I gag a little to this day when reflecting on the story. At the time I didn't know why it bothered me so much, but I do now.

I feel sorry for the people who entered teaching because they "love kids". I also feel sorry for their students. See, if I was a teacher simply because I loved kids I would be a lousy teacher. People connect differently, and some charismatic people are simply delightful to be around. Those delightful children are easy to teach. Something about them endears them to teachers. My work, and the work of all teachers, is to teach all students and we have to work harder at teaching those that we don't just naturally "love".

Teaching is the best profession in the world. (I'm not biased at all.) Teaching is woderful because it is about learning, creating a desire and hunger for learning. It is about witnessing the moment concepts make sense, the lightbulb goes on, and another human being gets excited about learning. It is wonderfully challenging figuring out a way to ensure all the students walking through my door get the same opportunity reach their potential. I wonder how many of those people who loved kids are still teaching...

Just a Typical Day

My first year at Bancroft School was full of learning. One student in particular taught me a lot, we'll call him D. When this positive, caring and eager teacher had used every tool in her belt by the end of September, I knew we were in for an interesting ride. After time I discovered that reading was a great way for D to manage being in the classroom, but not just any ol' book. With luck though, he enjoyed The Series of Unfortunate Events. Of which there are many. (Thirteen now, I think just ten at the time) When D came back from Christmas break he was so excited to tell me that he got the entire series for Christmas and had read EVERY one of them. Somehow we made it through his eighth grade year and even managed to build the foundation of a positive relationship.

D moved onto High School growing into an outstanding young man with his sights set on college. Now, going to college is scary for those of us with supportive parents who have gone before and can lead the way. I stood and watched this young man navigate his way through the hoops of being admitted to college, and as he explained to the financial aid lady that the reason he does not have his mother's tax return is because she did not file taxes. The reason she did not file taxes is because she was in jail. Like a punch in the gut. Well, I am so proud to announce that after all the hoop jumping and perseverance, D is now enrolled in College. As I handed D a celebratory coffee he said, "I'm a college student drinking Starbucks. How typical am I?" To the young man who spent most of his K-12 education in special programs-Here's to being typical. Go get 'em!

Reflecting...

Have you ever had an experience that changes you? Just a small moment in your life that leaves you different than you were before? There have been a few in my life, but one that sticks in the front of my mind.

I forget a lot of things, but not this. I remember the weather-a warm August day in New York. It was the evening of our second day in the city. We were out looking for a park with swings for my niece. She loves to swing. My dad, brothers, sister-in-law and I walked along the waterfront where people were playing and just chillin’ on blankets. My dad said. “It’s just down the street a bit.” I knew what he was talking about and my stomach began to swirl. I hadn’t decided if I even wanted to see it-the hole, but off we went and it was out of my hands. My muscles tensed up as soon as we got closer. There is a walkway that goes right over the edge of the hole. I’m pretty sure there was a truck in the bottom, but I couldn't stop. I tried. I no longer had control of my tears and they flooded my eyes. My family stopped, but I had to keep moving-it was hard to breathe. We continued around the “building” to the front. People were gathered looking at some pictures and writing. It was a timeline. Honestly, I’m not sure what it consists of because it would have taken strength beyond what I possessed to read through it. I wish I could explain to you why I had this strong of a reaction to being at Ground Zero, but I don’t understand it myself. I stood there, in front of what used to be a building taller than I can imagine, at the place where so many human lives were lost, at the place where people, heroes in my mind, sacrificed themselves to rescue others, I stood there and cried. My body couldn’t do anything else.

For the remainder of my time in New York I was eerily aware of the massive pit just blocks away. It was always in the back of my mind. Whenever I saw a fire truck drive by with an American flag waving from the back, I had the urge to hug the fireman for what they must have seen and done. New York is a wonderful city with great shopping, parks, restaurants and of course, baseball team, but to me it is also a place full of resilient people who suffered a massive tragedy.

This is something I wrote a while ago for a writing lesson I taught. However, I'm thankful that I captured my thinking. As I walked through the seventh year since 9/11 I was struck by my own hard heart. In the past it was difficult for me to watch anything on the news, see images from that day or speak about it. I was always keenly aware of it's approach and went through the routines of that day with a heavy heart full of emotion. Today was different. Today felt like any other day with just a matter-of-fact reminder of the lives lost, and that feels almost as tragic as watching the towers crumble and trying to explain to junior high students that they are safe, when I truly did not know what to think about this horrific attack on my home soil. It is my personal hope that I will always feel for the senseless loss of lives of the day, appreciate the strength of the heroes and remember how for a moment, because of tragedy, people were pulled together rather than apart.

Introducing...

Meet Lucy. Yep, this is the wild one who attacks sprinklers, and yes she is wearing a shirt. What you can't see is that her shirt says "Dog Park Security". The best part is that it now has very dirty sleeve and a hole in the side. How it happened I'll never know. She takes the job very serious.

My dog has a very distinct personality. If she were a literary character, she would be Scout Finch. Lucy would do her best to avoid wearing dresses, preferring her overalls to anything else. Curiousity and honesty would lead to mishaps and trouble, but her pure heart and honesty would endear even the most prickly person.

Enough about my dog-I have been feeling guilty about not blogging. Nothing has been going on, but I always push students to write even when they can't come up with a topic so I decided to put my money where my mouth is and write anyway.

Breaking the Law in the Spokane River

I guess this is a confession. Hopefully park rangers won't track me down with a ticket now.

Armed with just enough information to be dangerous, my friend Karla and I headed out on a HOT August day to float down the Spokane River. We arrived at our "put-in" spot to read signs saying no inner tubes. Great-that's what we were floating on. A kind young man told us that he floated a month ago in a black tube. We decided to be brave since he's still alive and give it a shot. Yep, we're rule breakers. I think the more accurate term we came up with is doofusi.(that's the plural for doofus in case you didn't know)

Not to worry, the river was calm-with many turns. Karla kept us paddled in the right direction. I tried to help, but mostly just made us go in circles so I helped by not paddling. Blue Heron, ducks, opsrey and a deer visited during our float. It was actually a beautiful afternoon, but next time we will find some sort of small boat to paddle down the river.

Attack of the Sprinkler

For those of you who don't know, I have a dog. Lucy is a springer spaniel, and people have been telling me, "Rachel, didn't you know Springers are active? It's in their name-they spring!" Well, I know now. Lucy is a sweet freckled face black and white Springer. She loves to sit in my lap, even though she's too big. She's rather clumsy, sometimes making a mess or banging into someone, but never meaning to. She quite frequently acts before thinking and almost always creates more work for me, but typically leaving me with a smile. Tonight was such an occasion.

My back yard is a bit depressing. Hydro-seed was put down this spring, but the weeds grow better than the grass. So mowing tonight was more of an attempt to cut down weeds. I have a plan though. Mow, water and put down a miracle ingredient that will kill that bad stuff and make the grass grow. After mowing, I sat down to watch the sprinklers. Remember I am on vacation and enjoy these things, plus I learned it from my dad-he'd be proud. Well, as the sprinklers spit into action, Lucy thought she had discovered an enemy. In an attempt to save the world from the killer sprinkler she put her full energy into drinking all the water coming out. The sounds coming out of her mouth reminded of a wordless muppet, and her persistence was admirable. After taking in all the water she could and deciding that the sprinkler wasn't as dangerous as she first thought, Lucy rolled in the dirt. Yep, I had a wet and now very dirty dog. That is when it turned into bath night for Lucy. Now I have a very dirty bath tub. Hopefully Lucy will not feel the need to rescue the world from any more disasters tonight.

Almost Finished...

At some point this spring I had a moment of weakness and decided to take some classes this summer. In fact, I have begun a program towards getting my administration certification even though I'm not sure if I'll ever use it. All this to say that tomorrow is the last day of an 8 day 4 1/2 hour a day class. It has been just short of torture to sit inside during beautiful summer afternoons listening to a well intentioned but random and, well, not so interesting professor talk. Many afternoons all of my energy went to keeping my eyes open. Tonight I am a giddy knowing that I am almost done. Next week I fully intend to spend hours on my back patio swing reading, taking naps, and doing all those lazy summer time activities that have yet to happen. I can't wait!

Trying Something New

Reading other people's blogs is always fun for me and for awhile now I have been thinking that I should have one to. It seems to be the cool thing to do. So I have taken the plunge. I now have a blog-of course if you are reading this you already know. In the future there will be more interesting posts, but today I am just trying to figure out how this whole blogging world works from the inside.