Caught in a Whirlwind

Okay, so I haven’t been doing that great with the blogging here lately. I think I just fell into a blogging rut, or maybe it’s because I’ve been super busy. Whatever the case, I’m glad you’re still reading, and I’m sorry about the delay.

It’s currently Halloween. I’m sitting in a hotel in Aiken with the greatest mother on the planet…mine, in case you were wondering, and I’m oohing and aahing over Facebook pictures of babies and toddlers dressed up in their Halloween best. Halloween is so not my favorite holiday, but at least the kids are cute.

Where have I been since October 3, 2012? If it’s in South Carolina, it feels like I’ve been there! In 67 miles, my BMW will have hit 15,000, and then it’s time to trade it in. I’ve driven it to Charleston a ton, to Columbia, to Spartanburg, to Rock Hill, to Myrtle Beach, and Aiken. I’ve also been to Notre Dame, but I didn’t drive there.

Regional Teacher Forums have been keeping me busy, and y’all, I really thought that my District Teacher of the Year class was as good as it got. They are really just all top-notch people who I absolutely love, but these new District Teachers of the Year are giving us a run for our money. They are incredible and come to our meetings with such passion and phenomenal stories. I wish you could meet them all, but at least Todd takes some great pictures for us!

So far, we’ve been to the Lowcountry (where I ate the best fried chicken in the world), the Midlands (where we watched a group of 12 adults struggle to lower a tent pole to the ground), and to the Pee Dee (where I felt at home because I live and teach there). Tomorrow, we’ll be with the Savannah River group, and in two weeks, we’ll finish up in the Upstate. My teacher forum regional tour will be over, but I will have met some great people along the way.

In the midst of all that (because my schedule simply was not full enough), I attended the Teacher Cadet Fall Renewal Conference in Myrtle Beach and spent a deliciously cold weekend at Notre Dame. I will write more about those later because each deserves its own post, but I’ll try to do it in a more timely fashion.

My apologies for a post that’s all over the place, but that’s the story of my life these days!

A Fabulous Teacher, A Fabulous Idea

A while back when my husband and I were in the midst of packing up my classroom, I blogged that I thought this whole Teacher of the Year experience was a little bittersweet. Honestly, there are days I still feel that way. There are days when I long to get up and go see my sweet students and get them all riled up about the injustices of To Kill a Mockingbird or shed tears with them as we get to the end of Tuesdays with Morrie. Sometimes I just feel an ache deep in my chest, and I need to be around kids. Thankfully, I have been fortunate enough lately to be invited to quite a few schools. Actually, I might have invited myself, but please don’t tell my momma because she always said that was very rude!

I got to reunite with my Third Block Fam at Homecoming! Love, love, love my precious students!

Last week, the day after my trip to Georgetown High School, I was able to visit Mayo High School in Darlington. In case you’re not from this area, Mayo is a public high school that gears instruction toward math, science, and technologies, and it is home to some phenomenal students, teachers, and programs. Additionally, it is home to one of my most influential teachers. If you’ve heard me speak, you know that I had a great English teacher when I was in tenth grade. Her name is Josie Stratton, and I always tell my audience that she was loud. After my recent visit with her, I will maintain that as the truth.

The infamous Josie Stratton!

I’ve always been a reader since way back in second grade when Mrs. Pam brought books to life for me. However, I don’t think I ever really appreciated more challenging literature until Mrs. Stratton’s class. She is by far one of the most brilliant individuals I know, yet as my teacher, she established a community of learners, and that community included her. She never just stood at the front of the room and imparted her knowledge (of which she has plenty), but she made us think critically, asking those “how and why” questions and refusing to give answers! She sat down and learned alongside us, and she made such an impression on me. Just as a fun side note, when I was named Teacher of the Year and it aired on the local news that night, her daughter said, “Momma! It’s your Amy!” Precious, isn’t it?

On my visit to Mayo and Mrs. Stratton the other day, I got to visit with the Teacher Cadets. They were amazing and extremely ambitious. They don’t all want to teach, but teaching isn’t for everyone. However, I think it’s important that students experience Teacher Cadet so we can grow advocates for public education. So these kids, y’all, when they’re operating on hearts or premature babies, they will definitely be rooting for what we do in our classrooms every day. And since they’ll be making the big bucks, maybe they’ll fund some DonorsChoose projects for us, too!

I didn’t go to Mayo on just any day. Eleven years ago, Mrs. Stratton started this community/school event she called Novel Tea. Students read a contemporary young adult book and select an adult who will read the book along with them. On the day of Novel Tea, students decorate tables according to their books, and the adults (mostly parents, but not all) come in and discuss the book with them for about 45 minutes. Originally, they served tea, like hot tea…and cookies! The event is too big for that now, but the participants still get lemonade and homemade cookies. Apparently, the red velvet ones were exquisite! On this day, they had 87 students registered to discuss books with adults. It was amazing! I wish there were another word that trumped amazing, but I can’t think of one. For about 45 minutes, I heard adults discussing books and literary elements with their students. Some of the kids went all out with their tables. One group of guys read Ghosts of War: The True Story of a 19-Year-Old GI, and in order to get supplies for their table, they went to the army surplus store. They had real uniforms, face paint, and MRE’s that they actually cooked!

I was so very impressed by the involvement of both the students and their parents/adult readers, but I wasn’t surprised that this phenomenal idea was born from the brain of Josie Stratton. I’ve been in awe of her since I was 15!

Invite me to your schools! I miss kids! And my mommma said not to invite myself!

I Became a Bulldog...But Only for a Day!

I am currently writing this post as I sit in the back of an English II Honors class at Georgetown High School watching one of the most phenomenal educators I know get her students to discuss their biases and the lens through which they view the world. And the conversation is so interesting. Somehow, she makes them think deeply, yet they appreciate the differences of their peers. I want to teach like Kristi Squires when I grow up! Today, I have been a Georgetown Bulldog, and it has been a great experience.

It took me a while to find Georgetown High School. I had the address and when I went to enter it in my GPS, the street on which the school is located did not exist according to my BMW GPS. However, I discovered that if you see WalMart, you're close, so I found my way and was only a few minutes behind schedule.

This might be an appropriate time to review that I teach at Johnsonville High School in Florence District 5, home of the Flashes and only three schools: one elementary, one middle, and one high school. And I love it! There is something about a smalltown school like mine. Each year, approximately 425 students enroll in the high school, and by the end of the year, you are able to know all the faces and most of the names.

When I got to Georgetown High, I couldn't get in! I tried every single one of the locked six doors in the front before I realized there was a button I had to press to buzz the office so I could come in. They don't play in Georgetown. That is some high tech stuff! I think it's great that schools have moved to these more protective measures to protect students and staff, but I did feel kind of dumb for having tried every door when the buzzer was clearly marked.

During my day as a Bulldog, Mary Ann Owens let me spend some time talking to the GHS Teacher Cadets. I asked how many of them really planned to teach as a career. I was stunned when almost every single person in the class raised his or her hand. I'm sure this has a lot to do with the great instruction they receive courtesy of Mrs. Owens, but this simple fact put me on Cloud Nine. From there, we talked about the ways the media distorts the reality of South Carolina public education, read The Curious Garden, and talked about the various strengths we can bring to the table as leaders. And y'all know something? I have a good feeling about these Teacher Cadets. In my brief time with them today, I found that they get leadership. They know that it's important to listen and problem-solve and bring compassion to the table. They also recognize the need for dedication in good leaders. They will all impact the world somehow.

So far, I've had a lot of fun experiences as South Carolina's Teacher of the Year, but my favorites so far are the times I've spent at schools. I have a goal to visit every district in the state by May 1st! Invite me to yours!

Beaufort...Wow!

Last Friday, my momma and I ventured to Beaufort County for the district’s Teacher of the Year breakfast. First of all, I had never been to Beaufort, but thanks to Pat Conroy, as we passed the signs for various places, I felt like I knew them all. The area was absolutely gorgeous, and so the trip would have been a treat all in its own purely considering the aesthetic value of our surroundings, but we got to enjoy so much more than pretty scenery.

Beaufort County exceeds expectations when it comes to celebrating their teachers. At this Teacher of the Year breakfast, all of the School Teachers of the Year were honored. And it was obvious to me that the district administration really understands the role of the District Teacher of the Year in establishing a district forum and taking on some additional leadership throughout the year.

Christine Gray, Beaufort's 2012 Teacher of the Year

The breakfast was held at the Callawassie Island Country Club, and had we not needed to get back, I would have loved to spend the day exploring this gorgeous area. It was so very beautiful. As part of the morning entertainment, two music groups from the schools were there. I listened as a high school strings group played with amazing talent and skill; they sounded like professionals! Another high school’s chorus came to sing two songs, and they were absolutely amazing. By the end of their second song, I was in tears! I love seeing student groups perform and a district taking pride in what their students can do.

I was able to sit with one of the finalists for District Teacher of the Year, Jennifer Weitekamper. It was obvious from our conversation that she is a phenomenal teacher who is passionate about what she does in her classroom. Her husband attended the breakfast with her and was so proud of her accomplishments. It’s nice to make new teaching friends all over the state.

Jennifer Weitekamper

After a delicious breakfast and some words of inspiration from various people, Erin Reichert of Bluffton High School was named as the new Beaufort County District Teacher of the Year and given the keys to a 2013 BMW to sport for the year, courtesy of Hilton Head BMW. Erin teaches AP U.S. History, Sociology, Youth in Government, Economics, and U.S. Government, and she is an educator who takes her role beyond the four walls of her classroom. She is a teacher leader who goes above and beyond expectations, and I look forward to getting to know her through our forum events this year!

Beaufort's Teachers of the Year, and 2013 District Teacher of the Year, Erin Reichert, front and center!

Congratulations to all the Beaufort County Teachers of the Year, and thank you for what you do for children.

The Trip I Learned My Name Badge Will Set Off A Metal Detector...

When I teach Advanced Composition, my students and I read Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom. The book is phenomenal, and if you haven’t read it, you should. Near the end, the author poses the question, “Have you ever really had a teacher? One who saw you as a raw but precious thing, a jewel that, with wisdom, could be polished to a proud shine? If you are lucky enough to find your way to such teachers, you will always find your way back.” On Thursday of last week, I found my way back to Kay Sellers, my eleventh and twelfth grade English teacher, Yearbook Momma, and one of my most influential teachers. If you’re reading this and you’ve had my classes, you can thank Mrs. Sellers for the way I teach or grumble and complain at her if you didn't like me. I am a product of her instruction. For better or worse, I am a “Sellers child.”

Mrs. Sellers taught me at Lake City High School, and I think I spent more hours in her classroom while I was in high school than I did at my home. She was a lot of things to me back then: a dose of reality when I needed it, a cheerleader when I did well, and a role model for what a good teacher was. I will always remember her as an advocate for her students.

Do you know why there's an anchor in front of CHS? I don't, but it made for a good picture!

She is now a teacher and instructional coach at Conway High School, and she is still as amazing a teacher as I knew she was when I was 16. Of course, she now teaches at a school with stairs, its own security guard and metal detectors, and three separate lunches, but none of that has changed anything about her or her teaching. While at Conway, I didn’t just hang out with Kay all day, though that would have been fun, too. I got to meet some amazing Teacher Cadets and their instructor, Mrs. Shelby Wiley. They haven’t all liked my Facebook page yet, and I’m holding that against them a little bit, but they were still some top-notch kids. They volunteered to read my picture book for me to save me from my completely rational fear of reading and showing the pictures, and we trekked to the parking lot for them to take some pictures with my car…or really, it’s BMW’s car, though the kids I met today are planning to write some powerful letters to change that!

I met a lot of neat people at CHS. I watched Holly Barnes and her AP Language kids kick absolute butt in a Socratic seminar, and I was amazed at how easy they made it look. Somehow, Angie Calhoun got me interested in a discussion of government, and then I sat amazed as Josh Cutright taught his heart out about some Civil War battles and made kids laugh and “get it” at the same time. They truly have some great teachers.

If you know me in real life though, you know that I have a passion for kids who the system labels “at-risk,” those ones who are the underdogs, those who have to fight just a little bit harder for every single thing they get. I love my students, but I really get excited when those kids who have been told they will never do anything are able to succeed. And so one of my most favorite parts of my trip to Conway High School was meeting Sabrina Gibbs, the director of their AVID program. I had never heard of AVID, and in case you’re in the same boat, it stands for Advancement Via Individual Determination, and it is a college readiness system. The high school English teacher who began it (English teachers have great ideas, don’t they?) says, “It’s more than a program—it’s a philosophy: Hold students accountable to the highest standards, provide academic and social support, and they will rise to the challenge.” From what I heard and saw during my day at Conway, it helps these students realize they are all success stories just waiting to be written. Because of the support they receive from AVID, they CHOOSE to take rigorous courses, they gain confidence, and college becomes a real feasible option for them. And so now I don’t understand why more high schools in South Carolina don’t incorporate this?

I left Conway High School rejuvenated by being in the presence of students, and I left knowing that we get so much right in public education in South Carolina. If you ever doubt it, I’m sure they’ll let you come visit, too, but remember to be nice to the security guard and take all the metal out your pockets.

CSU, I'll Be Back!

I have done a lot of fun things this week, and I’m of the opinion that they probably each need their own blog entry in order for you to fully understand just how much I enjoyed them all. Don’t worry…I’ll publish them over the next few days so we can try to avoid blog overload.

When I was younger, my family and I went to tour Charleston Southern University. My sister was a junior and was contemplating it as a college choice. I remember our family talking for weeks about how nice everyone was at CSU. I returned there this week to speak to the CSU Teaching Fellows and Future Teachers’ Society, and I was treated with the same hospitality and kindness that I remembered from when I was in middle school traipsing behind my sister and secretly praying she wouldn’t go so far away to college.

Going to talk to the students of CSU was super-special for me to begin with because one of my own students, Austin, is a freshman and a Teaching Fellow there. It was great to be able to see him and hear that he’s doing well in school. And it was nice to be able to relay that information to his momma.

The students and faculty of the Education Department welcomed me and made me feel like I was a part of them. When I spoke, many of them hung on my every word, nodding along with me and grinning. And afterwards, for only the second time in this journey, I felt like a celebrity. I took pictures with students and got to talk to them even more about their goals and my teaching. It was an incredible experience. I enjoyed my time at CSU so very much that I plan to return very soon to see them all again! I am especially thankful to their Teaching Fellows director, Marsha Humphreys, for inviting me to come be a part of their meeting. I was so very impressed with the quality of students at CSU and know they will make some great teachers!

Of course, no trip to Charleston would be complete without going to Cousin Emily’s house to get some play time with Baby Liza. And imagine how excited I was to get to snuggle with two babies instead of one!

School BFFs

All through my college education classes, I remember professors telling us that when we got our first real jobs that we needed to befriend three groups of people: the secretaries, the custodians, and the cafeteria staff. I wholeheartedly agree with that advice, and I followed it. The secretaries have pulled me out of binds more than I care to admit. The custodians have waited until the last possible moment to clean my room during the summer in order to let me get things done. The cafeteria staff calls me when they’ve burned some school pizza because they know it’s my absolute favorite. In the past five years, I’ve found that my college professors left out another very key person to befriend: the media specialist. In our media specialist at Johnsonville High School, I found my school BFF, and after reading Wren Middle School’s Media Specialist’s blog, (Hi, Kristen, I know you in real life!) I realized that the media specialist is very much a secret weapon in any school…or rather they should be.

What’s the job of a media specialist? In some people’s eyes, they check out books all day long. I can say from firsthand observation that they do check out books…all day long IF they support students in their reading. If not, they really might not have to do much of this at all. If this was where a media specialist’s job ended, you could sign me up today, but I have been to the depths of the media center, and I know what all happens there. Did you know that in most schools the media specialist becomes the Miss or Mr. Fix-It for all things technology? A light bulb in a projector goes out, send it to the library. You think your computer has a virus, send a student to get the media specialist. You can’t make your printer print? You can bet the media specialist can.

Again, if this were all that fell into a job description of a media specialist, it might not be all that time-consuming, but this is barely the beginning. In addition to that, media specialists teach lessons. They teach about research, digital literacy, video software, presentations, and more. They teach students about reading and how to find a book and how to put it back in the proper place. Then they inventory and replace the books the students put in the wrong places. Media specialists laminate things and update webpages and air the morning announcements. They constantly read to stay up to date on what kids want to read, and they talk to kids (lots of kids) every single day. Media specialists know the names of every single student in the school because they teach them all. They work with teachers to schedule library time, and they don’t always get to eat lunch. Our media specialist at JHS never stops. She’s checking out books, fixing technology crises, answering phone calls, playing Channel One, recommending books to students because she cares enough to know what they like, and making sure the library runs like a well-oiled machine. She is a busy, busy woman.

A phenomenal teacher on the left, a super media specialist on the right

Media specialists are super heroes; there’s no doubt in my mind. I am so thankful that Johnsonville has Wendy Calcutt who works her magic every day to get students reading and computers computing and keeps the high school world running. Make sure you thank yours for the work he or she does…where would your school or your students be without it?

"See Ya Next Time, Saluda!"

I don’t think it’s any secret at all that I believe that education is something we should celebrate daily. My parents raised me to believe that education was one of the most important things in life, following Jesus and minding my manners, and I have always placed teachers on a real shiny pedestal. I love to see teachers (and the great work they do) being celebrated, and so I was absolutely honored to attend the Teacher of the Year banquet in Saluda County this past week.

I was not aware of just how far away Saluda is from Lake City, but it made for a nice little trek! My momma went with me, and it was nice to have some “me and her” time to catch up and sing and just be quiet together. In case you haven’t realized, I love my momma.

Reaching Saluda was interesting. After going through busy Columbia and Lexington, it was like a little piece of peaceful paradise just sprang up on Highway 378. The banquet was held at the Saluda County Educational Complex which is super nice, and it was to honor the district’s school Teachers of the Year and the retirees who retired at the end of the previous school. I thought that was a great idea. In one ceremony, they were able to honor those teachers recognized for excelling each day at what they do and those faculty and staff members who have given their all to education and South Carolina students. It made it very special, for sure.

I was able to spend some time that evening talking with Saluda Superintendent, Dr. David Mathis, and from my time talking with him, I can tell you two very important things about him. #1- He is proud of the schools, teachers, and students of Saluda County. #2- He is passionate about providing the best possible education for children in Saluda. After I realized that, I didn’t care what football team he pulled for or who his favorite author was…I was a fan of his! I know his faculty and staff appreciate his leadership! On his welcome on the district’s webpage, he has the following quote from Confucious, “ If your plan is for one year, plant rice. If your plan is for ten years, plant trees. If your plan is for one hundred years, educate children.” You could tell that this wasn’t just a nice saying, but that in Saluda, they live that philosophy. And two other things...everyone in Saluda is nice, or at least they were to me. Shealy's catered this event. I might try to get a ticket every year!

I was able to be present through the ceremony where the Teachers of the Year from the Saluda schools were introduced, and I can also tell you that this district has amazing teachers, teachers who love students and are passionate about educating them. They had amazing stories, and several of them were graduates of the district who had returned to teach there. I always think that is an amazing testament to the greatness of a district/school.

At the end of the evening, Mr. Paul Johnson from Saluda High School was named District Teacher of the Year! Congratulations, Paul! We look forward to seeing you at your regional teacher forum meeting!

Book Recommendation: Wonder by R.J. Palacio

Have you ever read a book and immediately wanted to share it with every person you knew? That has only happened to me a few times. I mean, I read a lot of great books, but I rarely read one that I think everyone should read. Most recently, I found this type of book in Wonder by R.J. Palacio. This book was recommended way back in March or April, but I put off reading it until this summer. Wonder is a game-changer, and I mean that in the best possible way. It has made me reconsider things I say to others and has caused me to really think about how judgmental I can be. I assure you, this book has a lesson it for everyone, and right now it's only $10.87 at Amazon for a hardcover copy. You probably want a copy to own and a copy to give away.

If you’re at all like me, you’re wondering what this book is even about. I rarely read a book on title or cover alone, but a few good Amazon reviews or a recommendation by someone I consider a reliable source draws me in like nothing else. Wonder is multi-faceted in that the story belongs to several people. Primarily, it focuses on August Pullman, a 10-year-old who was born with a severe facial deformity that author, R.J. Palacio modeled after Treacher-Collins syndrome, though this is never stated as Auggie’s syndrome. The story follows Auggie through his first year of attending school, but it also shares the stories of those who befriend him and his older sister who has always been his protector.

For me, Wonder served as a reminder. It was a reminder to me of what people might be going through when I really have no idea. It reminded me to think about how my actions or lack of actions can affect others. And it was a reminder that goodness is still at work in the world. Wonder is a work of fiction, but it’s a story of great truth. It is the story of every child who has ever been bullied for things beyond his or her control, and it is the story of those who look past imperfections and see to the very soul of an individual.

The message of Wonder is an important one. I think it’s relatable to almost any grade level…from a read-aloud in early elementary classrooms to a book club book for retired adults. It does an excellent job of reminding us that we are all only as good as our soul, and that appearances don’t (or rather, shouldn’t) matter.

I’m not the only one who thought this book was well-worth a read, so if you don’t believe me, here are some comments from others who have read the book…

And if you're on my Christmas list, chances are, you're getting this book, so please act surprised!

FMU: Going Home Highlight

When I was making the decision of where I would attend college, I initially wanted to go as far away as possible. For some reason, I was under the impression that was the only way to get the “full college experience.” I think a lot of high school juniors and seniors think that; they believe that if they attend school close to home, they are “less than.” We’ve got to change that perception. I fell prey to it, and after looking into schools all over the place, I really had my heart set on Converse because my English teacher from high school had gone there. I don’t know if y’all are aware, but the distance between my parents’ house and Converse College is roughly 200 miles. Once I admitted to myself that being that far away from my family wasn’t really an option for me (I’m a bit attached to my momma), Francis Marion University seemed like the perfect spot for me. And I can promise you there are few prettier places in the fall than FMU’s campus.

FMU was a good fit for many reasons, but the most important at the time was that it was approximately 22 minutes from my home. With that said, I did live on campus, but I also came home every Sunday for church and for laundry assistance. I still regard FMU as one of the happiest places in the world. I made a ton of great memories there and had so many great opportunities. I am still so thankful that FMU exists in the Pee Dee. It is a great university that is growing at a phenomenal rate, but it is small enough that it can always feel like home.

Because I am still so enamored with FMU, I was absolutely honored when one of the English professors asked me to speak at First Tuesday (a monthly event where English Education majors gather for various reasons). There is just something unexplainably special about “going home.” This was also very sentimental for me because some professors who have played a huge role in me becoming the teacher I am attended the talk, and their support over the years has had such an impact on me. Additionally, six of my own former students showed up to support me at this talk for English Ed majors, and they aren’t majoring in English Education. And really, my students have also helped me become this teacher I am, so it was great to have them there, too.

The truth of the matter is that teaching isn’t a journey we embark on independently. We owe thanks to lots of people who help us get where we are: the great teachers we had, the naysayers who saw no value in our profession, our colleagues who push us when we need it, and our students who walk this walk with us day in and day out. I think that it sometimes becomes easy to forget all the people who got us here and still stand strongly with us today. FMU provided the best foundation for me in my journey, and I am so glad I was able to give just a little something back.

Dr. Ramsey...one of the greatest men I've ever known, and I never would have met him if I'd gone to Converse.

The Power of a Dream

This has been a busy, whirlwind week with several meetings and neat experiences. I visited Camden Middle School, home of the Soaring Eagles, and was in awe of the amazing facility. Y’all, they have a rotunda…a rotunda!!! And the principal plays classical music in the cafeteria all day. I plan to return for a full tour when I have more time to stay and appreciate it all. The staff was so very welcoming, but the highlights of that trip were four students who came to help me get some materials from my car. They were so polite and respectful, greeting me immediately by name and asking how they could help me. Good news, everyone: They’re raising some great kids in Camden.

Today, I attended a National Board liaison meeting just because I love all things National Board, and I can’t urge you enough to sign up to go through this process if you’ve ever considered it. There is free money waiting on YOU to claim it!

After the meeting, I got to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. In case you’re curious, I didn’t win the lottery…not a monetary one anyway. Before I tell you what I really did, I probably need to introduce you to Emma. Emma Claire is my cousin Tem’s first born baby girl, and she is one of the most amazing children I’ve ever been around. And no, I’m not being biased; you can ask anyone. Emma was diagnosed with cerebral palsy when she was six months old, and her doctor told Tem and his wife, Cassie, to get her into as much therapy as they could.

With the help of the internet (oh the power of Google!), Tem and Cassie found the best possible place for Emma: The Therapy Place located in Columbia, SC. Emma has made huge gains since she began at The Therapy Place. She now sits up on her own, responds with several phrases, plays peek-a-boo, and walks with assistance. I have wanted to go see the magic of The Therapy Place for a while now, but it never worked out with my schedule. Today, it did, and I got to witness the greatness that can happen when a mother has a dream that she doesn’t let go. Tem met me at The Therapy Place, and I got to meet Dawn Darby, the executive director who, along with friend and another mother of a child with cerebral palsy, Susan Abell, started the center when the two women were unable to find the type of learning environment they wanted for their sons. I can’t even begin to express to you how amazing her fulfilled dream is. There are not words to capture it.

I also got to meet Emma’s teacher, Erin, who directs the Bridges program (a pre-school curriculum adapted to meet the needs of the students). Erin is passionate and has a wonderful rapport with her students. I sat back and watched as Emma identified colors, shapes, and patterns, and I was so thankful that she has access to a place dedicated to helping her reach her potential. I was amazed and humbled by the work the staff does and how much every single person seems to love the role he or she plays in the lives of these children. And I discovered during my afternoon that those people are what make The Therapy Place magical; there is no special potion, no enchanted forest. There are just people who give it all they have every single day to do what is best for the children in their care. They work so hard and stay so positive, and that makes all the difference in the world.

I talk to my students a lot about dreams and how important it is to have them. In Mrs. Darby, I have a great example of what dreams can do—how a dream can start for us but stretch and grow until it impacts the world around us. I drove home with tears of happiness streaming down my face, thankful for every single person who answers the call to improve the lives of children. Thank you, to the staff of The Therapy Place for helping sweet, silly Emma maximize her potential. Her progress has brought immense joy to my life and reminded me to always be grateful for dreamers.

A Shout-Out to National Board...

I had an excellent college experience, and it taught me a lot. There are days I would willingly go back and relive the days when I thought 10:30 classes started too early, had a part-time job that paid me roughly $125 every two weeks and was more than enough spending money for me, and had my very own “gas card” in my parents’ names that was not just for emergencies but for everyday use. At that point in my life, I didn’t understand the beauty (or the rarity) of a full tank of gas. While in college, I made some of my very best friends that I have in this life (who better hope they're reading this blog) and learned a ton. I can break a poem down to its barest bones, and I have an appreciation of fine literature that was instilled in me by the greatest English department that has ever existed.

In some ways, college prepared me for a career in teaching. In other ways, it absolutely did not. I knew pedagogy, classroom management, and how to create my rules so my students actually thought they had done it. I knew how to write a rubric and plan a novel unit. I knew how to grade things and (sort of) compute a grade. So what didn’t I know? I didn’t know how to react to the death of a student. I didn’t know how to respond when a student came to me with tales of a home life so harsh it left me in tears and calling my parents to thank them. I didn’t know that every child wouldn’t have access to a computer at all times. I didn’t know I would teach until 3 p.m., work in my room until 6 p.m., and then lug home things to work on until I went to bed. I didn’t know the value of comfortable but stylish shoes. And the thing I used to be really embarrassed to admit? I didn’t know how to reflect on what I was doing in the classroom and revise it accordingly. The learning curve for a new teacher is huge, and that is one thing I hope I never forget, no matter how long I serve in this profession.

So I never quite nailed the concept of being a “reflective practitioner” in my pre-service years. I could write up a reflection to hand in for an assignment with the best of ‘em, but I never delved beyond that point. In my first few years of teaching, I tried. I really did. I would plan a lesson, teach it, fall flat on my face, cry, and wonder what had gone wrong. Many times, I never figured it out, and so my great idea would be canned. In my early days, this was the most efficient way of “fixing” a failed lesson. I didn’t know any better, so I reinvented the wheel probably no less than 1,000 times.

In my third year of teaching, our district’s National Board liaison came to me with information about Take One, a National Board program that allowed teachers in their third year to complete one video entry for National Board. I was a little squeamish at first until I learned I could “bank” the entry if I passed it. Take One taught me a lot about myself. I learned that I am a procrastinator, and that there is nothing worse than waiting until the last possible second to pack that box. The process taught me that I can do difficult things, and sometimes, I can do them well. Through the Take One process, I learned the value of a “mental health day,” and that they are real and we do need them! Most importantly, this process taught me about who I was as a teacher and helped me get to where I wanted and needed to be for my students. It helped me analyze every single thing I did in the classroom and gauge its impact on my students, but instead of just trashing every activity that fell flat, it taught me to revise them and work them out in a way that was meaningful. I was so excited when I passed my Take One, and that gave me the oomph I needed to go through with the rest of the National Board process. Though I thought I’d learned my lesson about procrastinating and waiting until the last minute, the whole National Board process taught me that I hadn’t. I’m not proud to say that I mailed my box at the post office with four minutes to spare. I’m pretty sure that anxiety alone took approximately five years off my life, but I am proud to say that as of November, I’ve joined the NBCT community.

National Board was the single best professional development I’ve ever had, and it was tailored specifically to my individual needs. I am a better teacher because of my journey, and now I can reflect on my practices for a reason instead of just completing an assignment. If you have not taken the National Board journey, this is your year. Just a few weeks ago, our National Board Program Director at CERRA, Jenna Hallman, found out that this is the last year for federal subsidy funds to offset the cost to apply for the National Board process. There is free money sitting in a pot waiting for teachers like you who are ready to finally commit to this initiative. If you’ve ever thought about it, now is the time. I assure you that there are few things you can do that will strengthen your teaching practice than National Board! If you are an NBCT, please share your journey or words of encouragement in the comments!

Do You Have School Phobia?

Here in Florence County, school has started. Teachers have decorated their rooms and planned their lessons, students have chosen first day outfits and labeled their notebooks, and for 180 days, school is back in session. It’s interesting the different responses elicited by the first day of school. I, for one, have always loved it. By the time I got to kindergarten, it seemed like I had wanted to go to school for as long as I could remember. I played school for many years before I ever went inside of one, but, as the baby sister, I was often a mere student and rarely got to play the role of the teacher. I remember back-to-school shopping adventures, choosing an outfit that was just right for the first day, and eyeing my momma as she carefully used a Sharpie to write my name on every single marker in my marker box. Then, I was known as Amy M. as Amy was apparently a very popular name for 80’s babies. Regardless, there has always been something about school that has absolutely excited me.

My momma will also vouch for the fact that I’ve been that way at every level. When I “graduated” from sixth grade, I cried my eyes out and knew that I would return to teach second grade right beside Mrs. Pam because the idea of ever not being in an elementary school was too much for me to bear. Two years later at eighth grade “promotion,” I went through a pack of Kleenex because I loved Junior High, and I thought that after I went to college, I’d make a nice addition to the staff at Ronald E. McNair Junior High School. High school commencement was one of the saddest days of my life (seriously), and we pinned tissues to the inside of my sleeves of my graduation gown to catch the tears that fell for the entire ceremony. Then, I planned to major in secondary education because I knew high school was the place for me. I loved college, too, and I made a lot of great memories there, but college didn’t have pep rallies or prom or Spirit Week…things I’d absolutely loved about the culture of high school, so at the young age of 21, I went back to high school, and I’ve loved it ever since. It was a great choice for me, and I’ve never regretted it for a moment.

My husband is my opposite in many ways. School, or rather our attitude toward school, is most definitely one of those ways in which we differ. He never enjoyed school when he was growing up. In fact, he claims to have a severe case of undiagnosed school phobia. This phobia of his resulted in him throwing his clothes out of the back window of the family car when he was on the way to school as a little boy. He was quite smart because while no amount of whining and crying would get his momma to let him stay home, he knew he couldn’t go to school naked. He’s probably used every trick in the book. In elementary school, he snuck out of his classroom and went to a custodian closet to use the phone and call his mother to come get him. He’s chewed up pencil erasers and spit them in the toilet to prove he was “sick” enough to go home, and he has millions of school horror stories. He works in a school now as an alternative program instructor, and he loves his job and his kids, but even now when we go to work in our rooms during the summer, he says the “smell of school” just makes his stomach ache.

We have no children yet, but when we do, I hope they take my school attitude instead of his. I’m not ready to deal with two cases of “school phobia” in my house!

So what do I love about school…even now as a teacher? I love that I meet new people every single year. In so many careers, the work is stagnant. As a teacher, my work changes daily, but it goes through a major change every single year when I get a new group of kids. I also love watching my students grow, though this is sometimes difficult for me. I teach juniors (and a few sophomores), and it is so special to watch the transformations they undergo as they get ready to graduate. I love that I am always learning something new. Sometimes, it’s a new teaching strategy or a new great author, but sometimes it’s things like when to show compassion or what an acronym means on Facebook. The lessons a teacher constantly learns are varied, and to be honest, the most important ones aren’t of the academic nature at all. I love that I work in a field of endless opportunities. On any given day, I could be teaching the author of the next great American novel, a CEO of a technology-based company, a humanitarian whose goodness changes the world, or a medical researcher who finds the cure for cancer. When you look at what we do through that lens, it makes every difficult moment a little more bearable. Just remember during this first week as you approach your new students to look at them as opportunities and see what potential lies within them. Don’t listen to what the teacher down the hall experienced with that student, and try to forget what his sibling did that you didn’t like. Give each and every child a chance. You might have a student in your classroom like me, the one who loves school dearly and will do any and everything you ask her to, but you might have a student like my Hank, one who claims he’s going to the library but is really on the phone with his mother in the custodian closet. You are the one piece of the puzzle that can keep him from making the call.

Just for some further proof of our opposite ways, I was a Pilgrim in kindergarten, and he chose to be a Native American.

Sumter is BIG...and a Change of Heart

It has taken me a few days to process this enough to even know how to share it with you, but I think I’m ready, and I think the message is one that everyone who works in our field (or in any field for that matter) needs to hear. On Wednesday, I had the pleasure of being in the audience for Sumter School District’s district-wide opening, and it was like something I’d never experienced before. In case you’ve never visited Johnsonville, SC, Home of the Golden Flashes, let me provide you with our district breakdown: one elementary school, one middle school, and one high school. We are small, and it is wonderful. I love our little school district and firmly believe that it is one of the greatest in the world. When Jason let me know he would be arriving about 30 minutes early to the event in Sumter to make sure he had parking, I snickered a tad. Then when I waited in a line of cars with left blinkers just a-goin’, I realized I should have followed his lead. I doubt this will be the last time this year I have to say those words.

After circling the Civic Center parking lot multiple times and almost parking at Family Dollar, Jason may or may not have illegally moved a cone in the midst of an executive decision to allow me to park in a spot for which I would have gladly paid money…or hoped Sumter School District had a debit card machine. I tell you all this to say that Sumter’s district is huge, especially compared to mine in Johnsonville. They have over 30 schools, and they fill up the Civic Center!

The spirit in the place was contagious. They began with a summary of the previous school year and celebrated their achievements. They celebrated student talent as the combined high school show choir took the stage. Jason delivered a speech that made me want to go to a classroom on Monday and teach my heart out, and y’all, the marching band was phenomenal to the point I wouldn’t mind driving 45 minutes to Sumter for a football game just to hear them again. It was like nothing I’d ever seen.

I tell you all that to tell you this…at this event, I got to sit with Laura Lyles, my colleague who served as Sumter’s District Teacher of the Year last year. Because this is the event at which the new District Teacher of the Year was named, Laura gave a moving speech in which she recapped her year. It was wonderful, and I could tell from the passion with which she spoke about her students that she is a phenomenal teacher, but then Laura talked about one of her own colleagues, a woman who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer who, only because she is not physically able, will not be returning to the classroom this year. My heart broke. How many times have I adopted a “how many days until Friday?” attitude or complained about grading papers or writing lesson plans? How many times have I heard others start each year with their gleeful countdown to retirement? How many times have I wanted to roll over in my bed and not report for morning duty at the unfortunate time of 7:30 a.m.? Yes, I know these things are natural. We get burned out and tired and fed up and bewildered and overwhelmed, and there are days when we’ve had absolutely enough. This year, my classroom will change, and I’ll be on the road with CERRA. When I get back to my classroom next year, before I start to complain about the day or my students or how a unit just didn’t work the way I wanted it to, I hope I will stop myself and think of a teacher from Sumter whose physical limitations took her out of the classroom far before she was ready. And I hope that will make me thankful for the student who just blurted out for the twentieth time, thankful for the papers I still get to read and grade, and thankful to be working one more day in a profession that is very much my calling. Thank you, Laura, for sharing the story and touching my heart.

See that massive James Dean poster? That's another reason I love going to work so much.

A New Year

There's been a lot of talk on Twitter recently with people referring to the day before teachers begin their new school year as "Teacher's New Year's Eve." I can think of nothing more fitting. In my family, New Year's Eve is one of our favorite holidays, and it's been that way since way before I was born. I should probably pause here to let you know that my mother's side of my family is huge. My mother is one of six children, there are 14 grandchildren who have produced 20 great-grandchildren, and the first great-great-grandchild is on her way in September. When you get all those people and their spouses in one place, it's bound to be a good time. Since my momma was a little girl, it's been the tradition to gather around and count down the New Year (we'd always been partial to "Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve"). At midnight, we yell "Happy New Year," share hugs, kisses, and wishes for a good new year, and then go onto my nanny's porch and yell "Happy New Year" to the neighborhood. It's okay, the neighbors expect it! After that, my nanny...wait, my 92-year-old nanny...shoots Roman candles to start our firework display.

Celebrating the new year is part of our culture. Think of the money they spend in New York just to host a New Year's celebration, and the money normal everyday people spend on fireworks! We take the new year seriously. We make resolutions and view it as a time to begin fresh.

As teachers, our new year happens in August, and we should welcome it with the same spirit and excitement that we have on December 31. I'm almost convinced there should be fireworks, noisemakers, and a big giant celebration like the one in Times Square! Think of the new opportunities that come with the new school year. If you didn't like the way a unit went last year, you have the chance to change it. If your organizational system failed mid-year, you have a chance to give it another shot. However, I absolutely believe that the best parts of the new school year are the opportunities we have to make a difference and the children who are entrusted to us. That is an amazing responsibility, but, as teachers, we have an amazing calling. As you begin this school year, start fresh. Make meaningful resolutions.

This week I've been given the awesome opportunity to speak at two districts' opening days, and at both of them, people have been excited and ready for the new year that awaits them. Yesterday, I spoke at my district and we talked about celebration and rekindling the passion you had that initially drew you to the classroom. Whatever it was...whether a great teacher who changed your life forever or your desire to impact the future...reclaim that passion. Yes, teaching is hard work, and we are often under-appreciated, but we chose this career to make a difference, and we are.

I am so thankful for all of you who care about children and want the best for our future. You truly are the greatest parts of public education. I wish the happiest of new years!

Forgotten Blog

Maybe "forgotten" blog isn't the right term. The truth here is that I was waltzing along in life, headed for summer, glorious summer, and then life got extremely busy really fast. The school year ended with my classroom a disaster and me pretty teary-eyed. There was just something absolutely bittersweet about not returning to my classroom this year. Wait. That's not even true. It was bitter, all bitter. The sweet came in when I thought about spending the entire year as a member of the CERRA staff and touring our state all in the name of our public education system here in South Carolina. Together, they were bittersweet. Leaving my classroom and my darling students? That part was just sad.

Since my last blog (months ago, I know, so bad), I have done lots of cool things. One of the coolest was speaking at our school's graduation as the keynote speaker. I loved looking at all of my kids sitting there in their graduation gowns, wiggling in their seats, anxious to turn their tassels. I was honored and nervous all at the same time to be given the task of giving that final piece of advice to the Class of 2012. What did I talk about? You guessed it, reading and learning. Both are important, and both are things we do for life, regardless where our paths take us. I talked to them about reading people and reading situations, and it is my most sincere prayer that they make wise decisions in the future and learn from any mistakes. It's important to make the most of those teachable moments.

Photo courtesy of School Bell Photography.

That was June, and since then, I've been in the pool a lot, celebrated my niece's 9th birthday, met and loved the members of the CERRA Advisory Board, been mentor-trained by the best in the state, attended a fantastic induction teacher symposium, and had dinner with a great group of people who live and breathe Notre Dame. It has been one of the most memorable summers of my life.

I am still so honored and humbled to have been chosen for this experience. I guess this year, all of South Carolina is my classroom. Thank goodness it's tax-free weekend; that's a lot of Crayola markers.

Teaching Strategy: Picking Your Battles

I've only been teaching five years. Sometimes, I say that and five years seems like such a short period of time. One of my fellow finalists for SC Teacher of the Year started teaching in 1967, so when I reflect on that, I definitely feel like I have a LONG way to go. Other times, at the end of a stressful day when I've been wading through a sea of ungraded papers and dealing with bickering back and forth between children who simply cannot settle their differences, I say, "I've been teaching five years." Then, it seems like forever.

In five years, I've been exposed to various teaching strategies. Some of them have stuck with me. I've embraced multi-genre projects, reader response journals, "learning groups," and more. I've learned that I am not a fan of the literature circle, something I'm not even sure I should admit on a blog that's written by an English teacher. Perhaps I haven't learned how to tweak it to most effectively meet my needs yet.

One strategy I have learned that has been effective in every instance I have ever used it is to pick my battles. Though probably not touted as a teaching strategy, I firmly believe that the art of battle picking should be the topic of books, professional development, and conference presentations. Learning to do this in a moment of dire stress can make the difference between a child learning and a child shutting down. Children today bring a lot of baggage with them into the classroom. Many of my students go through more in a week than I have been in through in my entire life. When I first started teaching, I didn't realize this. It was my fatal flaw. I waltzed into my classroom on Day One ready to conquer the world. I envisioned a classroom full of students who had grown up in homes just like mine, a home in which education was a priority and reading was mandatory. Some of them do, but some of them don't. Instead of my little utopia I had envisioned, I was faced with students who came from a variety of backgrounds--students who didn't have homes, who didn't have books, and who didn't have anyone showing them the value of an education. I learned that I was teaching students who didn't know if they would have dinner when they got home and who didn't know how much longer they would have electricity before the electric company finally turned off their service. I was teaching students who were mothers and fathers, students who left school and went to work from 3:30 to 11:00 p.m. Some of the students I was teaching were the caretakers in their homes, taking care of little brothers or sisters, cooking dinner, and keeping the home going. I teach students who are bullied by others, who are insecure about who they are, and who don't know how to deal with high school drama. My education courses didn't prepare me for any of that.

After "teaching" for a few short weeks, I learned that the greatest teaching strategy that existed had never been taught to me. That strategy? Pick your battles. Sure, this strategy can masquerade under a whole host of terms: "Be compassionate" or "Monitor and adjust," but I think the most accurate way to phrase it is simply to pick your battles. Students today deal with a lot. After a student has gone home to find his family has no food and no electricity, should we really be surprised that he doesn't care about learning the ten vocabulary words we insist he know? If a child is harassed by her peers day in and day out, should I be surprised that doing the assigned reading was not high on her to-do list? We have to know which battles are worth fighting. For me, those battles are always the ones that benefit my students, and if I have to choose between making sure a child is fed or making sure a child is safe and teaching him ten new words, I will feed him and do whatever I can to make sure he is okay every single time.

In education, we often get lost in our standards and our testing and our pacing guides. The truth is that we have to make sure we are continuing to see individual children. If we're not, we need to take a step back and analyze what we're doing and why we're doing it. Our students fight battles every day. Some fight battles just to get out of the house and on the bus and through the school door. They have to know we're fighting for them, too. That's a battle that's always worth it.

The Post In Which I Talk About Falling in Love with Reading

In second grade, I had a teacher who looked just like Princess Diana. Her name was Mrs. Pam Williamson, and she thought I was a pretty incredible kid. I know that's the case because she told me that a lot. She was kind and sweet and terribly funny. The cool thing about Mrs. Williamson is that she's still that way. I know this because my niece was lucky enough to have her last year. She would come home telling me about sweet things Mrs. Pam told her and dissolving into a giggle fit when she demonstrated how Mrs. Pam danced the "Cha Cha Slide" with them. And I know that Mrs. Pam loves her job. I had the pleasure of attending the Lake City Tobacco Festival to watch my niece dance this year. Mrs. Pam was there in the audience because her daughter dances with the same studio. However, when my niece was on the stage, Mrs. Pam had her phone out, grinning and taking pictures. Afterward, she gave Anna Cate the biggest hug and told her how proud she was.

Mrs. Williamson is important to me not only because she remains one of the best teachers I ever had but because she helped me fall in love with reading. I'm not just talking about picking up a book casually here and then and tolerating it; I read voraciously, devouring any book I encounter. This is primarily because of Mrs. Williamson.

When I was in second grade, she read aloud to us every single day. At that point, reading had always been important at home as I come from a family of lifelong readers. However, the way Mrs. Williamson read was different. I remember sitting in her class listening to her read Shoeshine Girl by Clyde Robert Bulla. As she read, it was almost as though I could smell the shoe polish as she described the girl polishing the shoes. I remember what we read in her class more than any class I ever took. She drew us into a world of Fleischman's The Whipping Boy. I was introduced to New York through George Shelden's The Cricket in Times Square. Even though LeVar Burton from "Reading Rainbow" tried to convince me that reading could take me places, Mrs. Pam Williamson was the first person who actually showed me that.

Last year, I read 104 books, and I know that's something that would have never happened if I had not been exposed to the enjoyment of reading in second grade. Because of her, I try to instill that same love of reading in every child I teach. I try to show them that reading can transport you to another time or place and that it can teach you empathy. This Teacher Appreciation Month, I honor and appreciate the teacher who introduced me to my favorite hobby and a whole huge world that I never knew existed. Thank you, Mrs. Pam. I've never stopped reading.

My weekend reading stack...

Dance Recital: Kickin' It Old School

Let me begin this blog by saying I am only 27. I do not feel old, nor do I feel "old school." I consider myself nearly a digital native since the internet was an important part of my middle and high school years. There are some older things I remember; Oregon Trail comes to mind, as do slap bracelets and slouch socks. I've lived through some rather precarious fashion trends, but I'm not old. Or at least I wasn't old until today.

My beautiful eight-year-old niece had her FIFTH dance recital today. How she is eight, I have no clue. Just a few weeks ago, she was tiny and learning how to lift her head! The theme of her dance recital was "Kickin' It Old School." All in all, a very cute idea, if I must say so myself. I settled into my seat and opened my program ready to see songs from the 50s, 60s, and maybe the 70s. Sadly, I was mistaken. My niece danced to "Hangin' Tough" by New Kids On the Block. When, oh when, did NKOTB become "old school"? I felt as though those who selected the music must not have been entitled to knowing the recital theme, but I was mostly okay because NKOTB was really more of my sister's thing. I feel better thinking of her being "old" than thinking that I am.

We watched the recital. The little ones are my favorite. One of them performed her own solo, dancing her own jig oblivious to what anyone else was doing. A lot of them stood there, picking lint off their costumes or twirling their hair. It was precious, really. Then I heard the first few bars of a song that took me back. Not way back--remember, I'm only 27--but a little bit back. And though I loved the song, I cringed and tried to avoid sobbing. How is "Mmm Bop" old school? When did this happen? I blame Justin Beiber and The Jonas Brothers! There is no possible way that Hanson is old. I refuse to accept it.

While her Aunt Amy was sadly dealing with a mini early-life crisis, this little cutie was "Hangin' Tough" and beaming from ear to ear.

The Post Where I Reflect on 5/1/2012

I have to capture this moment and these emotions before they leave me. Today, I got to celebrate being named South Carolina Teacher of the Year with some of the greatest kids God ever put on this earth: my students. Being named SC's Teacher of the Year was a big deal to me because it was a big deal to my kids. They were so excited when I got to school today; it's like we all won. And really, we did. When Dr. Zais called my name Tuesday night, I sat there a moment, knowing with certainty that he was kidding. In retrospect, I'm not sure what I was thinking. Surely, a formal occasion such as that would not be the appropriate time to play a practical joke, and if he was, he was a month late anyway.

When I finally realized that yes, he was talking about me, and yes, he was serious, I felt this overwhelming sense of gratitude and appreciation. Deep in my soul, I was so thankful for people who have helped me along the way. I have to give credit to my parents for raising me to be a teacher. It was the only real career goal I've ever had, and they always supported it fully.

My husband gets this. No really, he gets it. He understands why a lot of days I'm still sitting in my classroom at 6 p.m. instead of cleaning up our house. He can whip out a phenomenal bulletin board in no time, and he is a master at grading multiple choice tests. He reads books for me when I say, "Do you think the boys in my class would like this?" yet never complains even if a book is a huge let down. And more so than getting it, he appreciates it. The pride in his eyes when I tell him of me reaching a student is unmistakable.

The teachers that I've had in my own life have shaped me into the teacher I am today: Pam Williamson, Josie Stratton, Kay Sellers,Dr. Marcie Ellerbee, Dr. Meredith Love, Dr. Bill Ramsey, Dr. Jennifer Kunka, and pretty much every other professor in the English Department at Francis Marion University. I have gleaned so much from them to make up my own teaching style and philosophy, and I am forever grateful.

More so than anything else though, I had to give credit to my students. They are the ones who travel this journey with me day in and day out. They see my highs and my lows, and most of the time, they are more than willing to tell me their opinions. Ever since I walked in Room 112 five years ago, my students have captured my heart. Together, we have tried new methods and returned to old ones. We have had laughs, cries, and serious discussions. We have graduated together, celebrated together, and mourned together. All these students have left an indelible mark on my heart, but they have also made a great impression on the teacher I am. They have molded me and will continue to mold me long after this year is over. Thank you, guys, this Teacher of the Year title really belongs to all of you. You are truly the best there is.

Summation

From LouAnne Johnson's Muchacho:
"...I realized there are two kinds of books in the world--the boring kind they make you read in school and the interesting kind that they won't let you read in school because then they would have to talk about real stuff like sex and divorce and is there a God and if there isn't then what happens when you die, and how come the history books have so many lies in them. They make us read the boring books so the teachers just have to talk about safe stuff like amoebas and tsetse flies and the hypotenuse of a triangle and all those things which nobody cares about in real life" (79-80).

Reflection

When I think about writing about teaching, I always envision myself writing about coming to my classroom an hour early and sitting at my desk as I gather my thoughts for that day. This is not my reality. The bell for first block rings at 7:55 a.m. My reality is screeching into my parking spot around 7:51 a.m., grabbing my banana from my passenger seat, throwing my bag over my shoulder, and rushing to my room in hopes of getting there before my line of students. I am a good teacher; I'd be a better one if school started at 10 a.m.

Often, I start the day with crumbs on my shirt and dabs of moisturizer showing on my face. It's okay. My heart's in the right place.

When I think of these haphazard mornings, I often am reminded of one of my favorite Bible verses, "[God's mercies] are new every morning" (Lamentations 3:23). You see, God's mercies are new every morning; teenagers' mercies are not.

I wholeheartedly believe that more than my students wanting a teacher who arrives hours before the first bell and has copies neatly stacked and ready to go and never encounters a dilemma while using technology, they want a teacher who cares about them. They want to be taught by someone who listens, by someone who empathizes, and by someone who believes.

Typically, with teenagers, you get one shot. If you can't prove to them on Day One that they matter to you, you've lost them for good. Why should we expect any differently? Most of us are that way after all. Take my husband, for instance. He likes you until you give him a reason not to. After that, while he'll forgive you, liking you is forever out of his mindset.

As teachers, we prove ourselves on Day One. We walk into the classroom (or sprint to it, in my case), and we put our hearts on our sleeves, showing students that we teach because we care for them. If we can't do this, we lose many students for good.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not foolishly believing that all students get on board with us and love us unconditionally from that first day, but the truth of the matter is that if we lose them on that day, it's hard to ever get them back.

Because we teach students who really just do not have it in them to greet us with new mercies each morning, we have to be that person. If Johnny had a bad day yesterday and sent us home in tears, it's our job (or our calling) to come in the next day, ready to help him through whatever made him act that way.

Our mercies must be forever new.

Introduction

I am a fifth-year teacher at a small rural high school in South Carolina. I mostly teach 11th grade English, some Advanced Composition, and Yearbook Production. My philosophy of education is the same as most teachers as I believe that every child can learn given the right environment and the right tools. However, I also believe that we must prepare children for the futures they realistically face. Once they leave us, they will move out to a society where Thomas Friedman believes "the world is flat." They will compete for jobs with people from all over the world, and it is our responsibility to help prepare them for this inevitable future.

I believe that teaching must first begin with two things: passion and concern. We must have passion for our profession and for our content, but we must be concerned for our students and their well-being. If you find yourself in this profession and realize you are missing those two things, replan your life. Teaching is not for you.

Teaching is hard and grueling work, but in five years, I have found that there is nothing more rewarding. (No, I don't have my own kids yet, so you naysayers rest assured that, in my life, this is the most rewarding venture I've found.)

Teaching requires heart and patience, dedication and resilience. Without these traits, you will either burn-out or blow-up, and neither makes for a pretty situation. In that sense, however, teaching is not always pretty. Teaching is knowing what kids go through at home, and teaching is wanting, with your whole heart, to be able to adopt every one who isn't treated like the special person he or she is.

Teaching is about wanting to make a difference every single day, but teaching is also about sitting back and being willing to learn. I learn something new from my students every single day, and regardless of meeting AYP or getting into college, there are students who have taught me more than I could have ever dreamed of teaching them.

I teach because it's what I know and it's what I love. When I think about the future, I can't picture myself outside of the four walls of my classroom. It's just where I belong.