Dogs of Our Lives: Pepper & Her Frisbee
7 hours ago
Friday, August 31, 2012
Political Comment
This was making the rounds of my teacher friends today!
It expresses our frustration pretty well.
Indianapolis Temple News
INDIANAPOLIS, 30 August, 2012
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has announced the groundbreaking ceremony for the Indianapolis Indiana Temple to be held on Saturday, 29 September, 2012, at 10:00 a.m. local time. The temple site is located on the southwest corner of 116th Street and Spring Mill Road in Carmel.
Attendance at the ceremony will be by invitation only; however, proceedings of the groundbreaking will be broadcast by satellite to Latter-day Saint chapels in the area to accommodate those who wish to attend.
The 90 minute ceremony will be conducted under the direction of senior Church leader, Elder Donald L. Hallstrom of the Presidency of the Seventy. He will be joined by Elder Gregory A. Schwitzer of the Seventy and local Church and community leaders.
Plans to construct the Indianapolis Indiana Temple were first announced by Church President Thomas S. Monson on 2 October, 2010. It will be the first temple in Indiana.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Heartfelt Emotions
EP approached me today, wanting to share an observation on classic children's literature. She is currently reading Mary Shelly's Frankenstein and had just read the chapter where the monster, desperately lonely, huddles in a hidden spot, watching a family go about their daily routine. Frankenstein's monster yearns to be a part of the human family, and to me, this is one of the most poignant parts in the book.
Apparently EP thought so, too.
She remarked, "Man, I thought that Old Yeller tugged at your emotions. But Frankenstein... WHOA!" and she returned to her seat, clutching the book in her hands.
(Have I ever said how much I love my job??)
Apparently EP thought so, too.
She remarked, "Man, I thought that Old Yeller tugged at your emotions. But Frankenstein... WHOA!" and she returned to her seat, clutching the book in her hands.
(Have I ever said how much I love my job??)
Dinos in the Classroom!
Last week we did an activity about the water cycle, trying to determine if we drink the same water the dinosaurs did. The class was divided on the question at first, but as we completed the activity, they came to the realization that water is continuously recycled, and that yes, it is the same water the dinos drank.
Yesterday LT needed a drink, so she went to the water fountain. As she headed back to her seat, she paused by me, wiping her mouth with her hand, and confided, "Tastes like dinosaurs."
Her eyes just twinkled!
Yesterday LT needed a drink, so she went to the water fountain. As she headed back to her seat, she paused by me, wiping her mouth with her hand, and confided, "Tastes like dinosaurs."
Her eyes just twinkled!
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Letter from a Former Student
I got the following letter yesterday from HS, a former student. I ALWAYS love hearing how my kiddos are doing after they leave Hershey. When you spend two years together with a group of children, they become very dear to your heart. And when they take time out of their busy lives to drop you a note, your heart warms and you find joy in the successes they've had since leaving your room.
HS writes:
Dear Mrs. I.,
I really miss being in your class, but I am having a great time at East Tipp. I wanted to thank you for all the preparations you gave us, to be ready for homework, and the different classes in middle school. I thought you might want to know that my new reading level for this quarter is 5.0-12.9. This concerns you because Classics have greatly improved my vocabulary. Wordly Wise, prefixes, suffixes, and Greek and Latin roots were helpful, too.
Please tell the 5th graders I miss them, and that I hope they are having a great year so far. And wish the new 4th graders good luck!
Thank you for letting me have a great two years, and you are truly PAWsome!
Thanks for everything,
HS, former multiager
That reading level of 5.0-12.9 means she can read and comprehend as well as a 12th grader at the end of their senior year! And Hershey's mascot is a panther, hence the PAWsome reference.
HS made my day. She made me cry, too, but they were good tears - tears of joy to hear from her, tears to know that she is building on what she learned, and tears that she realizes she has had some opportunities and appreciates them.
This gal is going to be successful in life, and make things better for those with whom she comes in contact. Of that I have no doubt.
HS writes:
Dear Mrs. I.,
I really miss being in your class, but I am having a great time at East Tipp. I wanted to thank you for all the preparations you gave us, to be ready for homework, and the different classes in middle school. I thought you might want to know that my new reading level for this quarter is 5.0-12.9. This concerns you because Classics have greatly improved my vocabulary. Wordly Wise, prefixes, suffixes, and Greek and Latin roots were helpful, too.
Please tell the 5th graders I miss them, and that I hope they are having a great year so far. And wish the new 4th graders good luck!
Thank you for letting me have a great two years, and you are truly PAWsome!
Thanks for everything,
HS, former multiager
That reading level of 5.0-12.9 means she can read and comprehend as well as a 12th grader at the end of their senior year! And Hershey's mascot is a panther, hence the PAWsome reference.
HS made my day. She made me cry, too, but they were good tears - tears of joy to hear from her, tears to know that she is building on what she learned, and tears that she realizes she has had some opportunities and appreciates them.
This gal is going to be successful in life, and make things better for those with whom she comes in contact. Of that I have no doubt.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Neil Armstrong
Neil Armstrong passed away Saturday. He is one of the few people in this world I think would give me chills to meet. Being the first man on the moon, the first person EVER in the history of the world to step on another body in our solar system... that puts him in the realm of historical figures who will be remembered for hundreds of years.
He's with the likes of Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, Christopher Columbus, Leonardo Da Vinci, Michaelangelo... And yet he was a quiet, unassuming, humble man in our midst for years, never grandstanding over his accomplishment.
I remember watching Apollo 11 land on the moon, and Armstrong stepping out of the Eagle (the lunar landing module) and saying his famous words, "That's one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind."
True words.
I witnessed that step on our black and white TV in my parents' bedroom on Prophet Drive. The film was grainy, but it was history in the making and we avidly, almost reverently, watched that history unfold right in front of our eyes.
Neil Armstrong was a Purdue graduate, one of many, many aeronautical engineering students who went on to become astronauts for NASA. As a result, Purdue has been dubbed "the home of the astronauts." Neil Armstrong returned to West Lafayette many, many times, sometimes several times a year, and was a beloved member of the Purdue family.
After he returned from the moon, Neil Armstrong came back to Purdue to give a speech in Elliot Hall about his mission. My mother pulled me out of school so I could attend (that is the only time in my life she did something like that!) I remember sitting there, raptly listening to him talk. Young as I was (7th grade, I think), I knew I was in the presence of a true figure of history. What an opportunity to be there! I will never, ever forget that afternoon.
There is a building on campus that bears his name, the Neil Armstrong building. It actually houses a full-sized replica of the Eagle in the foyer, suspended in the air overhead. He came back for the building's dedication a few years ago- one of those many times he came back to Purdue. Outside of it is a statue of him as a student, and since news of his death was announced, people have been dropping off flowers by it. A lovely tribute to a great man.
Near the statue on the sidewalk outside the building are replications of the footprints he and his fellow moon-walker, Buzz Aldrin, left on the moon. I took my students there once and we had a grand time trying to match our footprints and stride to his. The footprints are far apart - indicative of the moon's lesser gravitational pull, thus allowing the astronauts to make leaping steps.
Clear skies, sir. I hope that where you are now, you are getting a real tour of the galaxy and beyond.
He's with the likes of Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, Christopher Columbus, Leonardo Da Vinci, Michaelangelo... And yet he was a quiet, unassuming, humble man in our midst for years, never grandstanding over his accomplishment.
I remember watching Apollo 11 land on the moon, and Armstrong stepping out of the Eagle (the lunar landing module) and saying his famous words, "That's one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind."
True words.
I witnessed that step on our black and white TV in my parents' bedroom on Prophet Drive. The film was grainy, but it was history in the making and we avidly, almost reverently, watched that history unfold right in front of our eyes.
Neil Armstrong was a Purdue graduate, one of many, many aeronautical engineering students who went on to become astronauts for NASA. As a result, Purdue has been dubbed "the home of the astronauts." Neil Armstrong returned to West Lafayette many, many times, sometimes several times a year, and was a beloved member of the Purdue family.
After he returned from the moon, Neil Armstrong came back to Purdue to give a speech in Elliot Hall about his mission. My mother pulled me out of school so I could attend (that is the only time in my life she did something like that!) I remember sitting there, raptly listening to him talk. Young as I was (7th grade, I think), I knew I was in the presence of a true figure of history. What an opportunity to be there! I will never, ever forget that afternoon.
There is a building on campus that bears his name, the Neil Armstrong building. It actually houses a full-sized replica of the Eagle in the foyer, suspended in the air overhead. He came back for the building's dedication a few years ago- one of those many times he came back to Purdue. Outside of it is a statue of him as a student, and since news of his death was announced, people have been dropping off flowers by it. A lovely tribute to a great man.
Clear skies, sir. I hope that where you are now, you are getting a real tour of the galaxy and beyond.
Visiting the Spanish Branch
One of the things I miss most about my calling as Stake Relief Society president is that I don't get to travel much to the various units in the stake anymore. So, when we were asked by President Horton to speak in the Spanish Branch, I jumped at the chance - that's one of my favorite places to go! I may not be able to understand much Spanish, but I can (and do) feel the Spirit there. Big time.
Craig was asked to speak about (surprise!!) patriarchal blessings; I was asked to speak on whatever I wanted. When I pressed President Horton for specifics, he told me that most branch members were fairly new and needed basics. Hmmmm..
I settled on the topic of faith, prayed about it, and got to work.
I never write out my talks and read them - I simply outline them and then speak, using the outline as a guide. But knowing I would have a translator, I wrote out the entire talk. That way the translator could also read along as he or she stood with me at the podium.
I also thought it might be a good idea to use simpler words for the translator and shorter sentences, or at least sentences that easily broke into parts so I could pause and let the translator speak. That worked well.
All in all, it was a lovely Sacrament meeting, and Brother Higareda invited us to come the next Fast Sunday. They have a pitch-in lunch afterward, and President Horton advised us to come. "After eating real Mexican food at these lunches, I never go out to a restaurant for Mexican food anymore. Not after having the real deal here, and it is GOOD.' I think we're going to take Brother Higareda up on his invitation!
Here's the text of my talk:
And this is Brother Higareda's note: Gracias por sus discursos les invitamo el Domingo de ayuno para comer todos aqui en la capilla despues de las reuniones.
Craig was asked to speak about (surprise!!) patriarchal blessings; I was asked to speak on whatever I wanted. When I pressed President Horton for specifics, he told me that most branch members were fairly new and needed basics. Hmmmm..
I settled on the topic of faith, prayed about it, and got to work.
I never write out my talks and read them - I simply outline them and then speak, using the outline as a guide. But knowing I would have a translator, I wrote out the entire talk. That way the translator could also read along as he or she stood with me at the podium.
I also thought it might be a good idea to use simpler words for the translator and shorter sentences, or at least sentences that easily broke into parts so I could pause and let the translator speak. That worked well.
All in all, it was a lovely Sacrament meeting, and Brother Higareda invited us to come the next Fast Sunday. They have a pitch-in lunch afterward, and President Horton advised us to come. "After eating real Mexican food at these lunches, I never go out to a restaurant for Mexican food anymore. Not after having the real deal here, and it is GOOD.' I think we're going to take Brother Higareda up on his invitation!
Here's the text of my talk:
Faith
Buenos tardes, hermanos y hermamas. Me amo Lynn Isenbarger and no habla espanol.
Intro: I love to come visit with you. I have ALWAYS felt the Spirit, and felt it strongly, in your midst. Even when I could not understand a word. :) The Spirit still testified of the truth of the words I heard, whether it was in Sacrament meeting or Relief Society.
Intro: I love to come visit with you. I have ALWAYS felt the Spirit, and felt it strongly, in your midst. Even when I could not understand a word. :) The Spirit still testified of the truth of the words I heard, whether it was in Sacrament meeting or Relief Society.
Isaiah 11:6 The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.
Matthew 18:3 And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven
Clearly, the Lord wants us to look at the examples of our children when it come to their faith in God.
Children’s Hymn, Faith
“Faith is knowing the Lord will hear my prayers every time I pray.”
When you think of all those on earth, you may wonder, “How does He hear us all? How can He do that? How is that possible?”
I don’t know; that does not matter to me. But I DO know that he hears me. And that is what matters. That I know, and that I show my faith in Him.
Have you ever heard a child pray? Or speak of God? Recently we lost our beloved dog, Zeus. Our grandchildren loved Zeus. He was gentle with them even when they accidentally pulled his ears or stepped on his paws.
After he died, we were all sad. Actually, I cried a lot for a long time. :) Our grandson, Braden, who was three, came for a visit shortly after we lost Zeus. Noticing that he wasn’t greeted by the dog when he walked in the house, he said sadly, “Zeus died.” His parents were a bit embarrassed and worried that Braden’s comment might make me cry again. (It didn’t. I was glad he remembered Zeus.)
And then Braden smiled and said, “Zeus is in heaven and Jesus is throwing balls for him to catch.”
That is the faith of a child. That his doggy friend, Zeus, is in heaven, and that the Savior loves Zeus enough to play a game of catch with him!
And I think Braden is absolutely right.
Another story about the faith of a child. When our daughter, Lisa, was seven, she was fascinated by insects. She liked to catch them, look at them, and then let them go.
She was out in the field near our house bug hunting one summer morning. After an hour, she came home one happy little girl. And she told me this. “I was looking for a certain bug but I could not find it. I looked everywhere! So, I kneeled down in the field and prayed. When I opened my eyes, right there on the ground in front of me was that bug!” And she skipped off to do something else.
I said a prayer then and there, thankful that the Lord answered the prayers of a seven year old girl who simply wanted to find an insect. He cares so much about each and every one of us, that even the simplest prayers are important to Him.
Brothers and sisters, I, too, have had my prayers answered. Some in big ways and some in small ways. Sometimes I have felt wrapped in His love when he answered my prayers.
How can I not believe? How can I not have faith?
So, pray for bugs. Or in other words, do not hesitate to have faith and ask Him for what you need. To pour your heart out to Him. To cry with Him or laugh with Him.
Another scripture, one to all of us, and not just little children.
Proverbs 3:5: Trust in the Lord with all thine heart.
He will be there for you. He will answer your prayers. He will console and comfort you.
He lives and He is real.
In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen
And this is Brother Higareda's note: Gracias por sus discursos les invitamo el Domingo de ayuno para comer todos aqui en la capilla despues de las reuniones.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Mom and Lisa Connolly
A lovely photo of my mom and Lisa Connolly taken last Saturday at Jenny Connolly's wedding reception.
Will Move Fast for Carrots
When I arrived at the barn tonight, none of the horses were visible. They were all out in the far west pasture and out of sight.
Not wanting to hike all that way out to them, I whistled for Abby, and then unlatched the green gate and stepped into the pasture to wait for her arrival. The trough had overflowed and there was quite a bit of mud on the ground. I was figuring out a way to negotiate it when I looked up and realized that all five horses, not just Abby, were thundering my way! They'd heard that whistle and come running, hoping for a treat!
Now, I don't mind being surrounded by horses at all, but when five are stampeding your way with food on their minds, it's a good idea to be wary. I put my hand out and said, "Whoa" and Hokey and Trouble, who were in the lead, slid to a halt and sidled up to me, poking their noses out, searching for a treat.
Diablo, the herd alpha came in behind them, and that started some ear pinning and milling about. I thought it best to get out of the middle of that, so I slipped back through the gate, barely beating Trouble who thought he should accompany me.
Of course, then their heads were stretching over the gate, hoping, hoping, hoping for a nibble.
Abby always gets the first, the last, and the best treats. She knows it, and so do the other horses. She was behind them, standing by the trough, watching me intently. As soon as I stepped in her direction, she began nickering softly - my favorite sound that she makes.
She got two big carrots and then I gave everybody a sugar cube. (Hokey cracks me up - he does not know how to take a treat from your palm. He makes clumsy, sloppy, lipping motions trying to grab the snack!)
Not wanting to hike all that way out to them, I whistled for Abby, and then unlatched the green gate and stepped into the pasture to wait for her arrival. The trough had overflowed and there was quite a bit of mud on the ground. I was figuring out a way to negotiate it when I looked up and realized that all five horses, not just Abby, were thundering my way! They'd heard that whistle and come running, hoping for a treat!
Now, I don't mind being surrounded by horses at all, but when five are stampeding your way with food on their minds, it's a good idea to be wary. I put my hand out and said, "Whoa" and Hokey and Trouble, who were in the lead, slid to a halt and sidled up to me, poking their noses out, searching for a treat.
Diablo, the herd alpha came in behind them, and that started some ear pinning and milling about. I thought it best to get out of the middle of that, so I slipped back through the gate, barely beating Trouble who thought he should accompany me.
Of course, then their heads were stretching over the gate, hoping, hoping, hoping for a nibble.
Abby always gets the first, the last, and the best treats. She knows it, and so do the other horses. She was behind them, standing by the trough, watching me intently. As soon as I stepped in her direction, she began nickering softly - my favorite sound that she makes.
She got two big carrots and then I gave everybody a sugar cube. (Hokey cracks me up - he does not know how to take a treat from your palm. He makes clumsy, sloppy, lipping motions trying to grab the snack!)
A long draught from the tank before heading back out into the field for the evening.
From the left: Hokey, Trouble, Diablo, Abby, and Mason.
Test Prep in August
We may have only finished the second week of school, but already teachers are thinking about next spring's ISTEP tests, some with a tongue in cheek humor. Friday, the teacher of our profoundly handicapped classroom shared with me how she was "preparing" for the ISTEP.
"Lynn," she said with her hands on her hips, "I have a student in diapers who is a third grader and has to take the test. The child cannot even talk or understand what is said to him. But I still have to give him the modified ISTEP."
And then she got a twinkle in her eye.
"But you know what I'm going to do? If he has to take it, then he's going to be ready. For the question that asks them to identify a political figure, I'm going to park his wheelchair in front of a picture of the president. And when he babbles, 'bababababa' as he does sometimes, I'm going to count that as saying 'Barak Obama.' Think that'll fly??"
And we both burst into giggles.
"Lynn," she said with her hands on her hips, "I have a student in diapers who is a third grader and has to take the test. The child cannot even talk or understand what is said to him. But I still have to give him the modified ISTEP."
And then she got a twinkle in her eye.
"But you know what I'm going to do? If he has to take it, then he's going to be ready. For the question that asks them to identify a political figure, I'm going to park his wheelchair in front of a picture of the president. And when he babbles, 'bababababa' as he does sometimes, I'm going to count that as saying 'Barak Obama.' Think that'll fly??"
And we both burst into giggles.
Friday Night Lights!
It's that time again - Friday night football games with Craig!
We follow the West Side football team, Craig's alma mater and where he was a football player himself. I go along mostly to the away games - I enjoy the drive with Craig and a chance to chat, finding little cafes in the middle of nowhere for a bite of dinner, and then pleasant fall evenings sitting in the bleachers. Craig cheers, groans, or tells me what's happening; I cheer when everyone else does, console him when he groans (and we're going to be doing a lot of groaning this fall, I think), and people watch.
Last night was the first away game of the season - Lewis Cass Consolidated in Walton, a teeny hamlet in the middle of farmland between Logansport and Kokomo.
A view of the high school. I am not kidding in calling Walton a hamlet - I think the high school complex may be bigger than the town, or close to it! The high school is located on the west edge of Walton.
You know you're at a rural Indiana game when the farm fields come right up to the boundaries of the football field.
Bring on the Friday night lights!
We follow the West Side football team, Craig's alma mater and where he was a football player himself. I go along mostly to the away games - I enjoy the drive with Craig and a chance to chat, finding little cafes in the middle of nowhere for a bite of dinner, and then pleasant fall evenings sitting in the bleachers. Craig cheers, groans, or tells me what's happening; I cheer when everyone else does, console him when he groans (and we're going to be doing a lot of groaning this fall, I think), and people watch.
Last night was the first away game of the season - Lewis Cass Consolidated in Walton, a teeny hamlet in the middle of farmland between Logansport and Kokomo.
It was a beautiful August evening to sit out and enjoy football.
Bring on the Friday night lights!
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Only in a High Ability Class
Only in a high ability class do you get students who arrive on Monday with several sheets of paper clutched in their hands that they are anxious to show and discuss with you.
On those papers?
Math equations. Line after line after line of them.
The student's reason for doing them?
Looking for patterns in the equations and their answers.
And actually finding them.
So, naturally they have to share what they discovered!
Things that make you smile as a Gifted/Talented teacher.
On those papers?
Math equations. Line after line after line of them.
The student's reason for doing them?
Looking for patterns in the equations and their answers.
And actually finding them.
So, naturally they have to share what they discovered!
Things that make you smile as a Gifted/Talented teacher.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
A Mama's Hunch
I had a feeling that this...
...and this...
... might turn into this:
Just call it a mother's intuition.
Friday, August 17, 2012
A Tale of Two Temples
Today I went up to the Chicago temple with Craig to attend Jenny Connolly's wedding. It was a lovely day, spent in the peace of the temple and with people we care about while celebrating a very joyous, sacred event.
When I got home, I had an email from Armandeep Chana, the father of a student I have had in my class the past two years. The Chana family belongs to the Sikh religion, and very recently a gunman entered a Sikh temple in Wisconsin, shooting members who had come to worship God, killing some of them and wounding others.
I cannot help but compare the two events - one joyful and full of hope and love, the other hateful and filled with tragedy and violence. Both in places dedicated to God.
When I first met N's father, I felt a little unsure of how to interact with him. I did not want to do anything that might be considered offensive or forward by him - I didn't even know what religion he was except that it was not one with which I was familiar.
Armandeep has the long, full beard Sikh men wear along with a velvet turban on his head. He holds his arms folded together in a similar manner to how our Primary children fold their arms in reverence and he wears small, rounded gold wire-rimmed glasses. But I soon noticed that he smiled all the time, and spoke in a very gentle tone. For two years my association with this family was one of pleasure and growing friendship, and I came to respect the Sikh religion through the family's wonderful example. They are good people with good morals and an attitude of love towards their fellow man.
After the shooting at the Sikh temple, I wrote my former student a note, telling her I was sorry about what had happened and that I was praying for her, her family, and her community. Today I received the following email from her father. That gentle humanity the Sikhs have shines through in this letter, and I can even hear his voice as I read it.
I think tonight when I say my prayers I will thank my Heavenly Father that I have had the opportunity to get to know some members of the Sikh community and for the good they have brought to my life and to those around them.
When I got home, I had an email from Armandeep Chana, the father of a student I have had in my class the past two years. The Chana family belongs to the Sikh religion, and very recently a gunman entered a Sikh temple in Wisconsin, shooting members who had come to worship God, killing some of them and wounding others.
I cannot help but compare the two events - one joyful and full of hope and love, the other hateful and filled with tragedy and violence. Both in places dedicated to God.
When I first met N's father, I felt a little unsure of how to interact with him. I did not want to do anything that might be considered offensive or forward by him - I didn't even know what religion he was except that it was not one with which I was familiar.
Armandeep has the long, full beard Sikh men wear along with a velvet turban on his head. He holds his arms folded together in a similar manner to how our Primary children fold their arms in reverence and he wears small, rounded gold wire-rimmed glasses. But I soon noticed that he smiled all the time, and spoke in a very gentle tone. For two years my association with this family was one of pleasure and growing friendship, and I came to respect the Sikh religion through the family's wonderful example. They are good people with good morals and an attitude of love towards their fellow man.
After the shooting at the Sikh temple, I wrote my former student a note, telling her I was sorry about what had happened and that I was praying for her, her family, and her community. Today I received the following email from her father. That gentle humanity the Sikhs have shines through in this letter, and I can even hear his voice as I read it.
|
I think tonight when I say my prayers I will thank my Heavenly Father that I have had the opportunity to get to know some members of the Sikh community and for the good they have brought to my life and to those around them.
At the Temple with Good Friends
I took a personal day today and headed up to the Chicago temple with Craig for Jenny Connolly's wedding. I detest Chicago traffic, but for a dear friend's daughter I will face my fears and brave that traffic.
My four closest Lafayette friends were there, all of them part of our dinner group.
Loni Gibb, me, Bryn Seymour, and Lisa Connolly (mother of the bride.)
Lisa is one of my very dearest friends.
I admire and respect her - she is like my friend Zina when it comes to being Christ-like. Lisa will do anything and everything for you if you need something. Her coffee cakes are famous and I've been lucky enough to receive several! Lisa has an amazing high school athletic story (which Craig insists should be made into a movie someday) and was an All-American volleyball player for BYU. Her life is devoted to the gospel and her family.
I call Bryn "My Leige."
Loni is Craig's secretary in addition to being my friend. She is a great organizer - need a bridal or baby shower? She knows how to throw the BEST parties! And she cooks all kinds of delicious meals, appetizers, desserts... Unlike me who gave up most cooking several years ago. (I can cook if I have to, I just don't want to anymore.)
It's good to be with friends when celebrating one of their children's temple marriage.
Jenny and her new husband, Christian Hanselmann, come out of the temple as husband and wife to greet their family and friends. I think Jenny was feeling a little sheepish at being the center of attention as we all applauded. I love how she is bending to the side as she walks out!
Her niece, Carly, squirted out of the crowd and came running up for a hug. It was a touching moment.
Aren't they a lovely couple? Jenny is beautiful inside and out.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Turn the Other Cheek
Today, for the first time in my teaching career, a parent used the f-bomb when yelling at me. (I've calmed unhappy parents down before, but being yelled at is new as well.)
Never mind that I don't teach his daughter and don't know him. Nor did I do anything other than help with dismissal today during a rainstorm, and get his daughter safely to his truck. I was a warm body standing there and he directed his fury at me. And was he ever livid.
Apparently since his daughter had to be in the rain, Hershey and TSC are negligent and he claims he will sue. (She was standing under a brick overhang out of the rain.)
He pulled that truck up next to me where I was standing, rolled his window down, leaned over, and began yelling. His eyes actually seemed to pop out and his face was red and contorted with rage.
I had heard of this man, and knew he had anger issues. "A soft answer turneth away wrath," so I simply said in response that I would give the message to the office. This did not pacify him and he continued shouting, and dropped that ugly word. I'll admit, I felt a flare of anger then.
I bit my tongue and repeated that I would tell the office and then backed away from the curb. He pulled out with a squeal of tires and accelerated through the parking lot - certainly not thinking about the other parents, children, and teachers also in the lot.
I relayed the message to the office as I'd said I would when my duty shift was over. The father had already called them twice demanding to speak with the principal. She was still outside, in the rain, getting kids onto their buses.
Linda spoke to me afterward and we documented the encounter. She made it clear that the man was unstable as well as a bully, and that she would support me should I file a police report (she even volunteered to sit with me and wait for the police to arrive.) I declined, but did make sure she had a copy of my written report of what had occurred.
I am still unsettled over the incident. I am trying to forgive that man, but it is a struggle at the moment. Craig reminded me of the Anti-Lehi-Nephis in the Book of Mormon, a people who were changed from being warlike to pacifists by the gospel of Jesus Christ - to the extent that they would lay down their lives rather than pick up their weapons again. And, many did lose their lives as a result.
I am not quite in their league, nor was today's incident nearly the scope of theirs, but I can learn from their example. No matter how upset or angry I am, the gospel teaches me to turn the other cheek, act kindly, and to be a peacemaker.
I'm not there yet, but I'm working on it tonight.
Never mind that I don't teach his daughter and don't know him. Nor did I do anything other than help with dismissal today during a rainstorm, and get his daughter safely to his truck. I was a warm body standing there and he directed his fury at me. And was he ever livid.
Apparently since his daughter had to be in the rain, Hershey and TSC are negligent and he claims he will sue. (She was standing under a brick overhang out of the rain.)
He pulled that truck up next to me where I was standing, rolled his window down, leaned over, and began yelling. His eyes actually seemed to pop out and his face was red and contorted with rage.
I had heard of this man, and knew he had anger issues. "A soft answer turneth away wrath," so I simply said in response that I would give the message to the office. This did not pacify him and he continued shouting, and dropped that ugly word. I'll admit, I felt a flare of anger then.
I bit my tongue and repeated that I would tell the office and then backed away from the curb. He pulled out with a squeal of tires and accelerated through the parking lot - certainly not thinking about the other parents, children, and teachers also in the lot.
I relayed the message to the office as I'd said I would when my duty shift was over. The father had already called them twice demanding to speak with the principal. She was still outside, in the rain, getting kids onto their buses.
Linda spoke to me afterward and we documented the encounter. She made it clear that the man was unstable as well as a bully, and that she would support me should I file a police report (she even volunteered to sit with me and wait for the police to arrive.) I declined, but did make sure she had a copy of my written report of what had occurred.
I am still unsettled over the incident. I am trying to forgive that man, but it is a struggle at the moment. Craig reminded me of the Anti-Lehi-Nephis in the Book of Mormon, a people who were changed from being warlike to pacifists by the gospel of Jesus Christ - to the extent that they would lay down their lives rather than pick up their weapons again. And, many did lose their lives as a result.
I am not quite in their league, nor was today's incident nearly the scope of theirs, but I can learn from their example. No matter how upset or angry I am, the gospel teaches me to turn the other cheek, act kindly, and to be a peacemaker.
I'm not there yet, but I'm working on it tonight.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
A Five Minute Day
We just finished the second day of school, and already there are two 4th grade boys I am concerned about. Both seem disconnected from school and do not appear to want to put effort into their work. I had the brother of one of them, and he, too, had the same disconnect. For two years I struggled to help him find school to be an enjoyable place, but he continued doing only what he was interested in and skating by in others. (His mom just told me he deliberately failed Advanced Math last year at the middle school so he could be placed in a general math class. His reasoning? He wouldn't have to work so hard! Yikes!)
I am hopeful that his brother is different, but even though school has just begun, I am seeing similar behavior patterns.
At the end of the day, though, I overheard him talking to a friend as he packed his backpack, and what he said sounded promising.
"Wow! I can't believe it is time to go home. She made it feel like this day was five minutes long!"
I am crossing my fingers that we will have many more "five minute" days.
I am hopeful that his brother is different, but even though school has just begun, I am seeing similar behavior patterns.
At the end of the day, though, I overheard him talking to a friend as he packed his backpack, and what he said sounded promising.
"Wow! I can't believe it is time to go home. She made it feel like this day was five minutes long!"
I am crossing my fingers that we will have many more "five minute" days.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Patriarchal Blessings
I love Sunday afternoons - that's when we schedule patriarchal blessings. And we do them nearly every Sunday afternoon; only holiday weekends (Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas), Seminary graduation weekends (May), and visits from our out-of-state kids cause us to keep a Sunday afternoon open.
And we're busy - sometimes we are scheduled nine weeks out!
I play several roles in the process. I schedule the blessings and then make sure Craig has them on his calendar. I host them, too - he likes me there to meet and greet those who come to our door, and to sit with him while he visits with them for about twenty minutes. Sometimes I remain during the blessing, depending on the situation. (Other times I retreat to the bedroom and keep the phones quiet.)
I also make sure the house is clean (which can mean some frantic Saturday evenings) and I prepare the house on Sundays - I place chairs out for the blessing, adjust the blinds for privacy, put out a tissue box, and, depending on Craig's needs, adjust the temperature of our home so he is comfortable. (He has to stand wearing a suit for about twenty to twenty five minutes, so I give his comfort priority!)
Finally, I transcribe the blessings for him, a process that usually takes me an hour and a half. He did the transcribing up until this summer, but I am a much faster typist and he was having a hard time keeping up with the weekly transcriptions. President Connolly had authorized me to do so when he called Craig as patriarch, so I gladly took that over when he needed me.
Truly, we work as a team for the entire patriarchal blessing process, and I love what it brings into our home and our relationship.
I love the spiritual feeling our home has before, during, and after a blessing. No TV, no phones, quiet voices as we prepare, pray, and so on. Our home truly feels like a haven then.
I love the "feeling" people bring with them. They arrive in their Sunday best and use their best manners, and are sometimes just a bit nervous and even intimidated. We do our best to help them relax - we want their experience to be a positive, spiritual one. After all, it is a once in a lifetime experience!
All walks of life have come through our door: young and old, terminally ill, those who are grappling with tough issues, military veterans, converts, lifetime members, people who do not speak English... And they all bring that "feeling" with them. It is difficult to describe, but very, very real.
Craig records the blessings using three recorders - we've learned that back-up for the back-up is a good idea. Then, when the blessing is finished and the recipient has left, the next step is to transcribe the blessing.
To transcribe, I begin with a prayer. I then play the recording on its slowest setting and furiously type, trying to be accurate and keep up with Craig's voice. I pause it frequently, and at times replay a sentence to be sure I understood what was said. Often the transcribed blessings are four pages long, single spaced, and with very little punctuation. Craig prefers I leave the punctuation out - sometimes when he goes over the transcription he gets an impression on a typed thought, and it is very different from where I would've put the punctuation mark. And, it changes the meaning of what was said. I leave that job to him (even though, as a teacher, not punctuating can be a trial!)
Visually, to look at four pages single spaced with no punctuation and very little capitalization can make your eyes and head hurt. I go back through the transcribed blessing twice, playing the recording as I read and checking spelling, for words I transcribed incorrectly, etc. I move the mouse along the text while listening to the recording - that way I don't lose my place (much) and can follow along more easily with the recording.
I save two copies on the desktop and email Craig a copy as now it is his turn to work. Craig spends several more hours on the transcription, putting in punctuation and making absolutely sure it says what the Lord intended. All told, giving someone a patriarchal blessing from start to finish takes us at least five hours, and frequently more than that.
Patriarchal blessings are a wonderful thing to participate in on a weekly basis. It draws the two of us closer together as we work on this highly sacred work, and it is a privilege (and very humbling at times) to be a part of someone's patriarchal blessing experience.
And we're busy - sometimes we are scheduled nine weeks out!
I play several roles in the process. I schedule the blessings and then make sure Craig has them on his calendar. I host them, too - he likes me there to meet and greet those who come to our door, and to sit with him while he visits with them for about twenty minutes. Sometimes I remain during the blessing, depending on the situation. (Other times I retreat to the bedroom and keep the phones quiet.)
I also make sure the house is clean (which can mean some frantic Saturday evenings) and I prepare the house on Sundays - I place chairs out for the blessing, adjust the blinds for privacy, put out a tissue box, and, depending on Craig's needs, adjust the temperature of our home so he is comfortable. (He has to stand wearing a suit for about twenty to twenty five minutes, so I give his comfort priority!)
Finally, I transcribe the blessings for him, a process that usually takes me an hour and a half. He did the transcribing up until this summer, but I am a much faster typist and he was having a hard time keeping up with the weekly transcriptions. President Connolly had authorized me to do so when he called Craig as patriarch, so I gladly took that over when he needed me.
Truly, we work as a team for the entire patriarchal blessing process, and I love what it brings into our home and our relationship.
I love the spiritual feeling our home has before, during, and after a blessing. No TV, no phones, quiet voices as we prepare, pray, and so on. Our home truly feels like a haven then.
I love the "feeling" people bring with them. They arrive in their Sunday best and use their best manners, and are sometimes just a bit nervous and even intimidated. We do our best to help them relax - we want their experience to be a positive, spiritual one. After all, it is a once in a lifetime experience!
All walks of life have come through our door: young and old, terminally ill, those who are grappling with tough issues, military veterans, converts, lifetime members, people who do not speak English... And they all bring that "feeling" with them. It is difficult to describe, but very, very real.
Craig records the blessings using three recorders - we've learned that back-up for the back-up is a good idea. Then, when the blessing is finished and the recipient has left, the next step is to transcribe the blessing.
To transcribe, I begin with a prayer. I then play the recording on its slowest setting and furiously type, trying to be accurate and keep up with Craig's voice. I pause it frequently, and at times replay a sentence to be sure I understood what was said. Often the transcribed blessings are four pages long, single spaced, and with very little punctuation. Craig prefers I leave the punctuation out - sometimes when he goes over the transcription he gets an impression on a typed thought, and it is very different from where I would've put the punctuation mark. And, it changes the meaning of what was said. I leave that job to him (even though, as a teacher, not punctuating can be a trial!)
Visually, to look at four pages single spaced with no punctuation and very little capitalization can make your eyes and head hurt. I go back through the transcribed blessing twice, playing the recording as I read and checking spelling, for words I transcribed incorrectly, etc. I move the mouse along the text while listening to the recording - that way I don't lose my place (much) and can follow along more easily with the recording.
I save two copies on the desktop and email Craig a copy as now it is his turn to work. Craig spends several more hours on the transcription, putting in punctuation and making absolutely sure it says what the Lord intended. All told, giving someone a patriarchal blessing from start to finish takes us at least five hours, and frequently more than that.
Patriarchal blessings are a wonderful thing to participate in on a weekly basis. It draws the two of us closer together as we work on this highly sacred work, and it is a privilege (and very humbling at times) to be a part of someone's patriarchal blessing experience.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Meltdown!
I had a meltdown today. In my classroom. I was surprised, I was angry, I was dismayed, I was frustrated, I was overwhelmed... And so I lost it.
The meltdown was rooted in several years' worth of frustration with the state's continually making changes in what teachers are to teach, raising the bar without providing help or support, and at times making teachers wonder why they even bother to try.
I didn't shout or yell, nor did I stomp around. I simply stood still for a while, looking at my room, and then I started sniffling. I grabbed a tissue box, sat down at my desk, and I cried.
Just a few days ago, I'd left my classroom for the day in good shape, nearly ready for the start of school. When I returned this morning, boxes were stacked all over the desks, stacks of books were piled on tables, and it was a mess.
I can fix a mess. I'm pretty good at organizing and sorting. But it was what was IN those boxes that upset me so.
Despite the fact that every one of my students passed the ISTEP, and all but two of them received the highest score of Pass Plus, the state says I have to teach grade level reading.
My kiddos are NOT on grade level when they read! They're GIFTED. Many read and comprehend at the high school level, and a few assess at the college level!
But they now have reading books with text like this:
Instead of reading material (especially children's classics) that are on their level and are good literature to boot like this:
Look at the difference! Tom Sawyer, quality literature, versus a book that is a THIRD GRADE level and just drivel. (Why is a third grade leveled book in the 4th grade materials??)
But as I examined my new books, my heart sank even further. And then I got mad. Why do I need a set of books for 4th graders who are reading below grade level?
Those I could see if I had any ELL students, but I am starting my seventh year of teaching gifted students and I have not had one yet!
Since I teach a two year curriculum, I received two grades' worth of books. That's double the amount of books the other teachers received.
Which means I received a set of below-level books for my 5th graders. Again, why??
What a waste of money! And where was I going to store all those books? I have a tough time as it is storing the books I already have for my two year curriculum.
(And now I know why my friend, Kim, another GT teacher for TSC, called me earlier this week after she received her books. She, too, had flipped out over what was in her boxes and was upset at what a step down this new reading series represented for her students.)
I knew my principal was in the building, so I decided to talk to her. Linda was wonderful and very sympathetic to my plight. She had already given me permission to continue doing what I've been doing as long as I followed the scope and sequence of this new series.
She listened as I shared my frustration and reasons as to why I was so appalled at being told to use a reading series so far below my students' levels. Even better, she agreed with me that this series is not what my students need. Linda is going to find a place to store my books, while I've kept the kids' textbooks and the teacher's editions along with a few books that show the scope and sequence of the series.
The rest of the useless books are heading into storage Monday.
Good riddance.
The meltdown was rooted in several years' worth of frustration with the state's continually making changes in what teachers are to teach, raising the bar without providing help or support, and at times making teachers wonder why they even bother to try.
I didn't shout or yell, nor did I stomp around. I simply stood still for a while, looking at my room, and then I started sniffling. I grabbed a tissue box, sat down at my desk, and I cried.
Just a few days ago, I'd left my classroom for the day in good shape, nearly ready for the start of school. When I returned this morning, boxes were stacked all over the desks, stacks of books were piled on tables, and it was a mess.
I can fix a mess. I'm pretty good at organizing and sorting. But it was what was IN those boxes that upset me so.
Despite the fact that every one of my students passed the ISTEP, and all but two of them received the highest score of Pass Plus, the state says I have to teach grade level reading.
My kiddos are NOT on grade level when they read! They're GIFTED. Many read and comprehend at the high school level, and a few assess at the college level!
But they now have reading books with text like this:
But as I examined my new books, my heart sank even further. And then I got mad. Why do I need a set of books for 4th graders who are reading below grade level?
Or a set for English Language Learners?
Since I teach a two year curriculum, I received two grades' worth of books. That's double the amount of books the other teachers received.
What a waste of money! And where was I going to store all those books? I have a tough time as it is storing the books I already have for my two year curriculum.
(And now I know why my friend, Kim, another GT teacher for TSC, called me earlier this week after she received her books. She, too, had flipped out over what was in her boxes and was upset at what a step down this new reading series represented for her students.)
I knew my principal was in the building, so I decided to talk to her. Linda was wonderful and very sympathetic to my plight. She had already given me permission to continue doing what I've been doing as long as I followed the scope and sequence of this new series.
She listened as I shared my frustration and reasons as to why I was so appalled at being told to use a reading series so far below my students' levels. Even better, she agreed with me that this series is not what my students need. Linda is going to find a place to store my books, while I've kept the kids' textbooks and the teacher's editions along with a few books that show the scope and sequence of the series.
I was able to find room on some of the shelves for what I'd kept. (There are more books than it looks - I tucked books behind books!)
Good riddance.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
A "Grandteacher"??
Not sure if "grandteacher" is the term (in fact, I am SURE it isn't) but it came to mind when I saw this photo of a former student of mine from Illinois with her first child.
I still remember a note Jazzy gave me at the end of the school year. She wrote that she hoped I would always remember her. I didn't need a note for a reminder - I knew I would always remember Jasmine.
Jazzy is finishing up her teaching degree in elementary education. I am sure she will be a wonderful teacher - she's a wonderful gal. (Her mom is a teacher, too.)
And, as far as I know, Jazzy is the first of any of the kiddos I've taught to become a mother. It's kind of an odd feeling to think of her in that role - someone I knew as a ten or eleven year old actually parenting a child of their own!
I guess I'm a grandteacher!
Jazzy is finishing up her teaching degree in elementary education. I am sure she will be a wonderful teacher - she's a wonderful gal. (Her mom is a teacher, too.)
And, as far as I know, Jazzy is the first of any of the kiddos I've taught to become a mother. It's kind of an odd feeling to think of her in that role - someone I knew as a ten or eleven year old actually parenting a child of their own!
I guess I'm a grandteacher!
The Indianapolis Art Museum
Today, for one of her Twelve Months of Christmas gifts, I took my mother down to the Indianapolis Museum of Art. What a wonderful place to go! It's full of Renoirs, Turners, O'Keefes, a Norman Rockwell... lots and lots of beautiful art from famous artists. Plus, it's free!
We got lost a few times, but we're pretty good at figuring out maps. We got to see everything we wanted (although we did not see everything in the museum and would love to go back.)
Just as we were thinking about leaving, my mother asked if we could see the Star Gallery. We had no idea what it contained, but I am glad we went. As soon as I saw this sign, I knew.
The Google contest! A friend of mine is the art teacher of the girl who won the contest.
Here Mom sits in front of a gigantic Georgia O'Keefe. Isn't it beautiful? (And isn't her smile beautiful, too??)
Next up is another O'Keefe - a painting of a pelvic bone in the desert in an odd perspective. Very creepy, in my opinion.
Have I mentioned my mom's sense of humor? She insisted we take this next photo.
You know, the gal with the bionic hip standing next to the painting of the pelvis. Yep, what a photo op!
I was so excited to see this next painting and knew who it was by even though I'd never seen the painting before nor could I read the name plate.
A Norman Rockwell!! Wow!
Just as we were thinking about leaving, my mother asked if we could see the Star Gallery. We had no idea what it contained, but I am glad we went. As soon as I saw this sign, I knew.
I think hers is amazing - what a delightful picture! And she's only 13 or 14!
Nice to see a local, Tippecanoe School Corporation student win the state. It goes on to the national contest next.
A stop at Donaldson's Chocolates in Lebanon was the finishing touch on our trip and we nibbled much of the way home.
I love these activities with my mother - the "gift of time" I originally wanted to give her through these Twelve Months of Christmas gifts has turned out to be as much a gift for me as it is for her.
I love you, Mom!
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Chums
A former student, MP, and a current student, MK, came out to meet Abby this evening.
Instant pals!
Monday, August 6, 2012
Fasting for Braden
Braden has a severe milk allergy, to the extent that we have to bleach down counters and be very, very careful that no milk product has touched what he touches when he visits. We wash our hands and faces before we hug or kiss him, and Ashley and Kyle have become experts on keeping their home milk-free.
I do my best to cook milk-free when he is here. I still remember the way Braden's face lit up when he realized that everything for Christmas dinner was safe - he was so excited that he could pick and choose among the buffet table like everyone else!
Kyle has given Braden a blessing in the past and they know that someday Braden's allergies will pass and he will not have this problem. But when that will come to pass is a mystery and in the Lord's own time.
Braden begins preschool in a few weeks, and that presents a huge challenge for him, his parents, and for his teachers. So, Kyle and Ashley have invited the family to participate in a fast for Braden's allergy to leave and that he will be able to eat like everyone else. Of course, we are participating; in fact, Kyle told me that everyone in the family is.
Sarah texted earlier to say that JC and Trinity were doing well. Great Grandma, despite her need to eat (due to some health issues) is doing what she can to join in. (I discovered she thought it might be like Lent and be for an extended period of time, yet she was still willing!) It is good to see the family come together like this in Braden's time of need.
I visit teach a woman with a brain injury and often give her a ride to Church since she cannot drive. She's about my age and highly intelligent. But due to the injury, she speaks haltingly and has trouble following trains of thought. When you speak to her, she asks that you speak slowly and with only a few words per sentence. She is a beautiful person and, despite her disability, her personality and sweet spirit shine.
She comes to Church every Sunday, but since she cannot tolerate the stimulus of a crowded chapel (as it is, she wears dark glasses and headphones to minimize her sensory experience), the bishopric has a room for her with the sound piped in. I help her get settled and put a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door, and she attends Sacrament meeting that way. When it is over, I leave during the closing hymn and bring the car to the door so she can get outside and into the car before the halls and foyer fill with people. (She is also unsteady on her feet at times.)
Today when I picked her up, I mentioned we were fasting for Braden and invited her to join us and remember Braden in her prayers. She smiled and said she would.
And then I think I witnessed a miracle.
When I went to get her after Sacrament meeting had ended, she said, "I have been thinking about your grandson and I have some ideas." And this lady then TALKED the entire way back to her home. She gave me insightful ideas on ways Kyle and Ashey could work with the school's teachers, dieticians, families, etc. to help Braden. She had even thought about what he could do when a child brought in birthday cupcakes and how that could be handled.
There was very little hesitation or stumbling in her speech and she was very focused and coherent in what she shared. She did not need any quiet breaks to minimize the stimulus overload, either.
A tear slid down my cheek as I listened. I was overwhelmed that she had taken the time and mental energy to come up with these ideas, and I also suspected I was witnessing a miracle from the Lord on her behalf so she could serve me as well as my family. And when I thanked her, she said, "Sisters serve each other" and smiled.
I called Kyle on my way back to Church and shared the experience with him. And we talked later that evening on Google Talk, where Braden piped up and said, "Thank you for fasting for me." I also learned that Addie turned down the snack in nursery because she was fasting for her brother!
And now we wait on the Lord for His blessing. Whether it be now or at a future time is unknown; nonetheless, our family has had a beautiful experience together as we came together in fasting and prayer for Braden.
I do my best to cook milk-free when he is here. I still remember the way Braden's face lit up when he realized that everything for Christmas dinner was safe - he was so excited that he could pick and choose among the buffet table like everyone else!
Kyle has given Braden a blessing in the past and they know that someday Braden's allergies will pass and he will not have this problem. But when that will come to pass is a mystery and in the Lord's own time.
Braden begins preschool in a few weeks, and that presents a huge challenge for him, his parents, and for his teachers. So, Kyle and Ashley have invited the family to participate in a fast for Braden's allergy to leave and that he will be able to eat like everyone else. Of course, we are participating; in fact, Kyle told me that everyone in the family is.
Sarah texted earlier to say that JC and Trinity were doing well. Great Grandma, despite her need to eat (due to some health issues) is doing what she can to join in. (I discovered she thought it might be like Lent and be for an extended period of time, yet she was still willing!) It is good to see the family come together like this in Braden's time of need.
I visit teach a woman with a brain injury and often give her a ride to Church since she cannot drive. She's about my age and highly intelligent. But due to the injury, she speaks haltingly and has trouble following trains of thought. When you speak to her, she asks that you speak slowly and with only a few words per sentence. She is a beautiful person and, despite her disability, her personality and sweet spirit shine.
She comes to Church every Sunday, but since she cannot tolerate the stimulus of a crowded chapel (as it is, she wears dark glasses and headphones to minimize her sensory experience), the bishopric has a room for her with the sound piped in. I help her get settled and put a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door, and she attends Sacrament meeting that way. When it is over, I leave during the closing hymn and bring the car to the door so she can get outside and into the car before the halls and foyer fill with people. (She is also unsteady on her feet at times.)
Today when I picked her up, I mentioned we were fasting for Braden and invited her to join us and remember Braden in her prayers. She smiled and said she would.
And then I think I witnessed a miracle.
When I went to get her after Sacrament meeting had ended, she said, "I have been thinking about your grandson and I have some ideas." And this lady then TALKED the entire way back to her home. She gave me insightful ideas on ways Kyle and Ashey could work with the school's teachers, dieticians, families, etc. to help Braden. She had even thought about what he could do when a child brought in birthday cupcakes and how that could be handled.
There was very little hesitation or stumbling in her speech and she was very focused and coherent in what she shared. She did not need any quiet breaks to minimize the stimulus overload, either.
A tear slid down my cheek as I listened. I was overwhelmed that she had taken the time and mental energy to come up with these ideas, and I also suspected I was witnessing a miracle from the Lord on her behalf so she could serve me as well as my family. And when I thanked her, she said, "Sisters serve each other" and smiled.
I called Kyle on my way back to Church and shared the experience with him. And we talked later that evening on Google Talk, where Braden piped up and said, "Thank you for fasting for me." I also learned that Addie turned down the snack in nursery because she was fasting for her brother!
And now we wait on the Lord for His blessing. Whether it be now or at a future time is unknown; nonetheless, our family has had a beautiful experience together as we came together in fasting and prayer for Braden.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Rural vs. Town
Today as I drove along the Wildcat, one of the overnight pink day lilies had thrust its way up by the roadside. The sight immediately took me back to when I used to deliver newspapers from my bicycle in Illinois. Many of the homes along my route had planted those in their flowerbeds, and to see them one day (they come up literally overnight) when just the previous day there had been none, was always a bit of a surprise.
I found myself tearing up as I drove. The memories of those flowers, and the association with paper routes, busy children's schedules, and a very, very good time of my life made me nostalgic and more than a bit sad.
And, since I was driving out in the hinterlands, I thought about teaching at Yankee Ridge, and how I only lived a mile and a half from school whereas my drive to Hershey is 11 miles. I began making some comparisons in my mind on teaching in a rural school versus one in town.
The drive to school:
Town: Short and sweet, with the grocery, Kmart, IGA, McDonalds, and the bank all between home and school. Plus, I could (and did) ride my bike to work!
Rural: A long drive, sometimes dicey in bad weather. But crossing the Wabash and Wildcat rivers twice a day is a treat, and the scenery is beautiful. Also, it gives me a chance to decompress and switch mental gears as I drive.
The Student Population:
Town: Very diverse, with at least 25% of my students African American. A larger number of Asian Americans as well. I love the different cultures that came into my classroom and what I learned from the kids. I especially miss the joie de vivre many of my black students had, and their deep, abiding faith in God. Income-wise, we had some of the wealthiest students in Urbana as well as some of the poorest. More than once I had homeless students come in mid-year and then leave a few short weeks later.
Rural: Little to no diversity. Our school has a high number of families from professional backgrounds or with connections to Purdue University. We have our share of farm kids and low-income kids, and they are a mixed bag - some of their families care about education deeply, others struggle so much in their personal lives it spills into school. But that is the exception rather the rule. My students have an unrealistic concept of African Americans - an "all are just like Martin Luther King" ideal.
The Political/Religious Climate
Town: Urbana is a very liberal town, and that attitude spills into the school. While faculty, staff, and students may have been religious, it was usually kept pretty private. Some of the adults I associated with were very vocal about their political views, to the point of putting down the opposite perspective while speaking because frequently they made the assumption that you, too, were on board with their views.
Rural: Religion is very much practiced among families in the area, and not being a church-attender is more the exception than the rule. I love what that brings into the classroom - a softer more considerate attitude than I sometimes saw in Urbana, from the kids as well as the adults. Politically the area is conservative, but that doesn't mean there are only Republicans. There is a fairly even amount of folks on both sides. Yet the political climate is less divisive and people measure their words a bit more carefully when speaking about their views.
Two very different schools and towns. Pros and cons to living/teaching in both.
And both are very dear to my heart.
I found myself tearing up as I drove. The memories of those flowers, and the association with paper routes, busy children's schedules, and a very, very good time of my life made me nostalgic and more than a bit sad.
And, since I was driving out in the hinterlands, I thought about teaching at Yankee Ridge, and how I only lived a mile and a half from school whereas my drive to Hershey is 11 miles. I began making some comparisons in my mind on teaching in a rural school versus one in town.
The drive to school:
Town: Short and sweet, with the grocery, Kmart, IGA, McDonalds, and the bank all between home and school. Plus, I could (and did) ride my bike to work!
Rural: A long drive, sometimes dicey in bad weather. But crossing the Wabash and Wildcat rivers twice a day is a treat, and the scenery is beautiful. Also, it gives me a chance to decompress and switch mental gears as I drive.
The Student Population:
Town: Very diverse, with at least 25% of my students African American. A larger number of Asian Americans as well. I love the different cultures that came into my classroom and what I learned from the kids. I especially miss the joie de vivre many of my black students had, and their deep, abiding faith in God. Income-wise, we had some of the wealthiest students in Urbana as well as some of the poorest. More than once I had homeless students come in mid-year and then leave a few short weeks later.
Rural: Little to no diversity. Our school has a high number of families from professional backgrounds or with connections to Purdue University. We have our share of farm kids and low-income kids, and they are a mixed bag - some of their families care about education deeply, others struggle so much in their personal lives it spills into school. But that is the exception rather the rule. My students have an unrealistic concept of African Americans - an "all are just like Martin Luther King" ideal.
The Political/Religious Climate
Town: Urbana is a very liberal town, and that attitude spills into the school. While faculty, staff, and students may have been religious, it was usually kept pretty private. Some of the adults I associated with were very vocal about their political views, to the point of putting down the opposite perspective while speaking because frequently they made the assumption that you, too, were on board with their views.
Rural: Religion is very much practiced among families in the area, and not being a church-attender is more the exception than the rule. I love what that brings into the classroom - a softer more considerate attitude than I sometimes saw in Urbana, from the kids as well as the adults. Politically the area is conservative, but that doesn't mean there are only Republicans. There is a fairly even amount of folks on both sides. Yet the political climate is less divisive and people measure their words a bit more carefully when speaking about their views.
Two very different schools and towns. Pros and cons to living/teaching in both.
And both are very dear to my heart.
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