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.