Our new sunbeam came out of class with a couple of cut outs, one of Heavenly Father and Jesus and one of Joseph Smith praying in the woods. Greydon was making Heavenly Father and Jesus talk to Joseph Smith.
Heavenly Father: We have good news and bad news.
Joseph Smith: What's the good news?
Heavenly Father: We're glad you are here.
Joseph Smith: What's the bad news?
Heavenly Father: You're lost in a forest.
The Farce that I Call Reality
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Names
The counseling center asked us to submit some names of some students who might need a little help this Christmas. They act as a go between when services offer to help out during the holiday season. There is no way that they will have enough to help everyone though. I was sitting in front of my advisory class (homeroom) when I first read the email. My eyes instantly fell on Dakota.
Dakota came the other day dressed in shirt and tie. He is a seventh grader on the JV basketball team, so they dress up on game days. He came yesterday and asked to store his bag in my room again, but he wasn't dressed up this time. I always compliment nice outfits, so I asked why he didn't dress up this time. He shyly admitted that he only had one nice outfit and didn't want to be caught wearing the same thing twice. He had brought one piece of the outfit, but it hadn't been washed, so he left it in his bag.
We just got done having a school food drive, the food was to be donated during advisory. While talking about why it might be good to participate I asked my students to raise their hands if they knew anyone who had benefited from the food bank's services. I figure a few would raise their hand, I was humbled that about 3/4ths of them raised their hand. Dakota raised his hand, and accidentally said out loud that his family went there. He acted kind of embarrassed after he said it so I moved on. But my class got it. They didn't win, but they came in second in my hall, my little group of 20 or so impoverished 7th graders brought in 122 cans of food.
Josh
Next period I was helping Josh catch up on an old assignment. I hate "faking it", when we write letters, we actually write letters. So far we have written to parents (some sad awesome letters there), letters to administration, to active marines, this letter was supposed to be to a company of their choosing that they liked. Josh is a great student, does perfect on everything, so I was surprised when he was having such a huge block understanding this simple part of the directions. Choose a company, any company, try to find their address and write them any kind of letter. I kept tying to ask different questions about his habits and preferences trying to help him choose a company to look up online. I started to get it eventually, he had absolutely no concept of buying something. He couldn't choose his favorite brand of something because he didn't have anything. He couldn't imagine having a lot of money to spend on something to even fantasize, it was too outside of his reality. Eventually he chose Sony because a friend had just showed him a piece of Sony equipment that he had gotten. There wasn't another student right next to us and it was a conversational moment, I also wanted to get past his embarrassment. He's a smart kid and new I was figuring out his reality. So I just asked him. We have a good rapport already and he was very open. He said things were pretty rough. There are five kids at home, he is the second oldest. His mom is sick with diabetes and can't do much and last year his dad lost his job. They only ever shop at DI and he tries to block it all out, he says he tries not to think about it, it's more than he can handle. I talked about my own childhood. I understand being the kid without the brands and the labels. I understand shopping at the stores that you don't tell your friends about. When he heard me say that, you could see something relax. You could see him realize that he wasn't some freak. Hugs are a generally not such a good idea, so I settled for a shoulder pat, then sent another email to the counseling office.
Mat
During the next period I was working with Mat one on one for a minute. I already know that his dad died a few years ago and that he got taken away from his mom because she is an addict. He was given to his older sister who frequently breaks down and tells him how sorry she is she can't do better for him, which just makes him feel worse. They live with her boyfriend in another family's house because they can't afford a place to stay. Shocker he has anger management issues and some piercings. He had a knew black eye, we talked about that for a minute.
I sent another email.
Aleisha sits near my desk.
Aleisha is changing her name right now, she wants to be called Kiersten.... I'm guessing it has something to do with her dad dying last year... I sent another email.
Dakota came the other day dressed in shirt and tie. He is a seventh grader on the JV basketball team, so they dress up on game days. He came yesterday and asked to store his bag in my room again, but he wasn't dressed up this time. I always compliment nice outfits, so I asked why he didn't dress up this time. He shyly admitted that he only had one nice outfit and didn't want to be caught wearing the same thing twice. He had brought one piece of the outfit, but it hadn't been washed, so he left it in his bag.
We just got done having a school food drive, the food was to be donated during advisory. While talking about why it might be good to participate I asked my students to raise their hands if they knew anyone who had benefited from the food bank's services. I figure a few would raise their hand, I was humbled that about 3/4ths of them raised their hand. Dakota raised his hand, and accidentally said out loud that his family went there. He acted kind of embarrassed after he said it so I moved on. But my class got it. They didn't win, but they came in second in my hall, my little group of 20 or so impoverished 7th graders brought in 122 cans of food.
Josh
Next period I was helping Josh catch up on an old assignment. I hate "faking it", when we write letters, we actually write letters. So far we have written to parents (some sad awesome letters there), letters to administration, to active marines, this letter was supposed to be to a company of their choosing that they liked. Josh is a great student, does perfect on everything, so I was surprised when he was having such a huge block understanding this simple part of the directions. Choose a company, any company, try to find their address and write them any kind of letter. I kept tying to ask different questions about his habits and preferences trying to help him choose a company to look up online. I started to get it eventually, he had absolutely no concept of buying something. He couldn't choose his favorite brand of something because he didn't have anything. He couldn't imagine having a lot of money to spend on something to even fantasize, it was too outside of his reality. Eventually he chose Sony because a friend had just showed him a piece of Sony equipment that he had gotten. There wasn't another student right next to us and it was a conversational moment, I also wanted to get past his embarrassment. He's a smart kid and new I was figuring out his reality. So I just asked him. We have a good rapport already and he was very open. He said things were pretty rough. There are five kids at home, he is the second oldest. His mom is sick with diabetes and can't do much and last year his dad lost his job. They only ever shop at DI and he tries to block it all out, he says he tries not to think about it, it's more than he can handle. I talked about my own childhood. I understand being the kid without the brands and the labels. I understand shopping at the stores that you don't tell your friends about. When he heard me say that, you could see something relax. You could see him realize that he wasn't some freak. Hugs are a generally not such a good idea, so I settled for a shoulder pat, then sent another email to the counseling office.
Mat
During the next period I was working with Mat one on one for a minute. I already know that his dad died a few years ago and that he got taken away from his mom because she is an addict. He was given to his older sister who frequently breaks down and tells him how sorry she is she can't do better for him, which just makes him feel worse. They live with her boyfriend in another family's house because they can't afford a place to stay. Shocker he has anger management issues and some piercings. He had a knew black eye, we talked about that for a minute.
I sent another email.
Aleisha sits near my desk.
Aleisha is changing her name right now, she wants to be called Kiersten.... I'm guessing it has something to do with her dad dying last year... I sent another email.
Booyah
Seth
I'm not sure how to describe Seth. He has some definite rough edges. Last year he wrote the F word and a few other choice words on some papers that were posted in the room just to get a reaction. He has a shaved head, speaks kind of slow, probably lives in not so nice of a house if I had to guess, barely scrapes by in school most of the time, gets some special ed services, not exactly an over-achiever. After last year's incident I kept the class after the bell had rung and explained why I was so upset. Student's work had been defaced, many students had to look at really foul language, I felt disrespected, etc etc. I explained that I would like some one to admit to it, but no one did. I had a few people express who they thought it was privately. I spoke to two suspects the next day. My first choice was actually innocent so I had to apologize for being wrong later. When I told Seth his name was given to me I think his exact words were "I... can't.... deny that." I asked if he understood why I was disappointed, he quietly said yes, turned a dark red. I said "ok" and walked away. I could tell he got it, I didn't need to prove I was all bad and bossy by "punishing" him. The learning moment had already happened. We've had a great relationship ever since. He even took another one of my classes this year.
Seth is certainly not a person who is comfortable in school, nor is he an over achiever. As I unlocked my door early the morning before Veteran's Day I was surprised to find him waiting outside my door. He asked if he could talk to me and brought in a big ol' backpack. He told me that it was the day before the Marine Corp's birthday and had thought it would be cool to put up a display in my room. (I'm getting really good at not acting shocked when it counts). He knew everything about the Corp, including their very early history including years and dates, I was amazed. His grandfather had been in the corp, his brother had just shipped off to the Middle East that month and he hoped to enlist as soon as he was old enough. He started pulling out all sorts of Corp issue uniforms, bags, equipment, boots. We worked together and made a pretty cool display on my back conference table. I printed off some signs that included some dates, some insignias, as well as a sign that said "display courtesy of..... and his full name." Throughout the rest of the day he brought in various people and showed off the display, I had never seen him be so out going and conversational once in the last two years. He did tons of work, and it had nothing to do with a grade.
I was flattered that he trusted me enough to know that I would respect his efforts, I don't think he has a very good relationship with more than a few teachers. I was also reminded how we all have our things that matter, and things that don't matter so much. It was a good day. I even think he smiled a couple of times, but just barely.
I'm not sure how to describe Seth. He has some definite rough edges. Last year he wrote the F word and a few other choice words on some papers that were posted in the room just to get a reaction. He has a shaved head, speaks kind of slow, probably lives in not so nice of a house if I had to guess, barely scrapes by in school most of the time, gets some special ed services, not exactly an over-achiever. After last year's incident I kept the class after the bell had rung and explained why I was so upset. Student's work had been defaced, many students had to look at really foul language, I felt disrespected, etc etc. I explained that I would like some one to admit to it, but no one did. I had a few people express who they thought it was privately. I spoke to two suspects the next day. My first choice was actually innocent so I had to apologize for being wrong later. When I told Seth his name was given to me I think his exact words were "I... can't.... deny that." I asked if he understood why I was disappointed, he quietly said yes, turned a dark red. I said "ok" and walked away. I could tell he got it, I didn't need to prove I was all bad and bossy by "punishing" him. The learning moment had already happened. We've had a great relationship ever since. He even took another one of my classes this year.
Seth is certainly not a person who is comfortable in school, nor is he an over achiever. As I unlocked my door early the morning before Veteran's Day I was surprised to find him waiting outside my door. He asked if he could talk to me and brought in a big ol' backpack. He told me that it was the day before the Marine Corp's birthday and had thought it would be cool to put up a display in my room. (I'm getting really good at not acting shocked when it counts). He knew everything about the Corp, including their very early history including years and dates, I was amazed. His grandfather had been in the corp, his brother had just shipped off to the Middle East that month and he hoped to enlist as soon as he was old enough. He started pulling out all sorts of Corp issue uniforms, bags, equipment, boots. We worked together and made a pretty cool display on my back conference table. I printed off some signs that included some dates, some insignias, as well as a sign that said "display courtesy of..... and his full name." Throughout the rest of the day he brought in various people and showed off the display, I had never seen him be so out going and conversational once in the last two years. He did tons of work, and it had nothing to do with a grade.
I was flattered that he trusted me enough to know that I would respect his efforts, I don't think he has a very good relationship with more than a few teachers. I was also reminded how we all have our things that matter, and things that don't matter so much. It was a good day. I even think he smiled a couple of times, but just barely.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Amy's Wedding Pics
OKOK I just realized that photobucket can't do a slideshow big enough to show all of the pics, the best ones aren't in here at all. Click on the link and go look at the full album for the ceremony with Elvis and her beautiful bridal pics.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Hamsters?
The other day Greydon played a song for me on the piano of his own composition, he's 3. He played it again later and it actually sounded pretty similar, I was pretty impressed. The lyrics went something like "the stars at dark bring dreams." Genius
Today while laying down for a nap we sang to each other. One of his songs was still about stars, and the moon, which wasn't glowing like the stars, because it was made of cheese, and then we went home... and when we both started giggling when he sang the line about the cage of hamsters.
I love snuggling nose to nose while we chat and sing.
Today while laying down for a nap we sang to each other. One of his songs was still about stars, and the moon, which wasn't glowing like the stars, because it was made of cheese, and then we went home... and when we both started giggling when he sang the line about the cage of hamsters.
I love snuggling nose to nose while we chat and sing.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Thank you
If you have ever created a single work I want to thank you for the likely unintentional yet none the less significant side effect of having increased my testimony as to the divinity of mankind by borrowing a sliver of omnipotence to present, to bring to the light, to hold aloft for all to see what was previously not there.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
And spin and spin, leg up and bow
I was jealous of my son tonight as he ran around and free danced to the wonderful music. He didn't know to be embarrassed or shy about the fact that he was in public. First a jazz singer and later a violinist inspired movement in everyone under 3 feet tall. When do we learn to be ashamed of ourselves? When do we start to assume we aren't good enough? How much energy do we waste deciding when to spin in circles to the music and when to sit on the side wall?\
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Neon greatness
I think all of us have potential for greatness. It is inborn, it bubbles inside all of us, kind of like radioactive foggy glowing neon super-Sprite, at least that's how I
picture it. Just like carbonation the pressure builds up when life shakes us around.
You've felt it right? When something cool moves us, or something bad shakes us, the pressure builds up and something has to give. We twist off our cap just a little, opening up, and you can hear the hiss, you can see it sometimes as the pressure whooshes out of us. How big the woosh is depends on how far we twist that cap off.
Some of us are better at opening ourselves, and some of us seem to always stay all bottled up. When the cap is opened up far enough that greatness sprays all over the place, if you are close to it you can't help but get it on you. We see photographs, hear songs, read moving words, watch films that change us, see an athlete make an amazing play, marvel at technological inventions, watch someone embrace another, laugh, or cry, all because someone opened up and let out a little of that greatness.
We all get shaken, we are human and existence moves us. Sometimes we just let the pressure die. We sit around, wasting the opportunity, and the bubbles fizz back out until something else shakes us back up. But I think more often we just let the fizz out a little at a time. We find ways to minimalize our humanity. We shout at the stranger driving too close to the yellow line like they have mortally offended us, we roll our eyes when someone different from us has the gall to invade our personal sphere, we put our efforts into existing, instead of living.
It's not all bad to let off a little neon super steam, it keeps us sane. We laugh with friends, play a video game like the result actually matters, worry about who is wearing red or who is wearing blue either in a football game or in the hood. And, often, we come up with funny one liners about life, text them to our buddies, facebook them for friends, read theirs as they do the same, as they slowly let that super neon greatness seep out a little at a time.
I just got done with a suggested break from Facebook. I don't think Facebook is evil. I think actually that it is one of those amazing moments of greatness that someone let out when they opened themselves up to it. It wasn't kept bottled up as some idea in a notebook or a computer lab. It wooshed out of somewhere.
I'm not sure how much super neon radioactive greatness I have in me. Most of us assume we don't have very much. But as life moves me, shakes me around and gets those bubbles all excited, pressure building... what would happen if I opened myself up a little more. What if I twisted that cap all of the way off instead of always coming up with little one liners for my Facebook friends.
I like Facebook, I like letting off a little steam. I like socializing with great people I've had the fortune to know throughout various times in my life. But I haven't painted for a long time now, I haven't been on any photo shoots lately, I have a half finished screenplay in a drawer, I have poorly written songs floating around in my brain, I have great ideas for huge lessons for my students... but I'm not sure I have enough foggy neon carbonation... so I might need to conserve here and there.
This probably makes little to no sense. I just don't want to exist, I don't want to "get through it". I want to wallow in sticky greatness. I want to be near it when others open themselves up and share themselves with the world. I don't want to get dusty on a shelf, letting my bubbles fizzle out. And I don't want to only open my cap a tiny bit at a time, always letting enough pressure out that I am never motivated to do something big.
Those are my thoughts, weird philosophical nonsensical neon super Sprite thoughts about my time off of Facebook. I'll still be around... but maybe a little less.
Fizz on...
picture it. Just like carbonation the pressure builds up when life shakes us around.
You've felt it right? When something cool moves us, or something bad shakes us, the pressure builds up and something has to give. We twist off our cap just a little, opening up, and you can hear the hiss, you can see it sometimes as the pressure whooshes out of us. How big the woosh is depends on how far we twist that cap off.
Some of us are better at opening ourselves, and some of us seem to always stay all bottled up. When the cap is opened up far enough that greatness sprays all over the place, if you are close to it you can't help but get it on you. We see photographs, hear songs, read moving words, watch films that change us, see an athlete make an amazing play, marvel at technological inventions, watch someone embrace another, laugh, or cry, all because someone opened up and let out a little of that greatness.
We all get shaken, we are human and existence moves us. Sometimes we just let the pressure die. We sit around, wasting the opportunity, and the bubbles fizz back out until something else shakes us back up. But I think more often we just let the fizz out a little at a time. We find ways to minimalize our humanity. We shout at the stranger driving too close to the yellow line like they have mortally offended us, we roll our eyes when someone different from us has the gall to invade our personal sphere, we put our efforts into existing, instead of living.
It's not all bad to let off a little neon super steam, it keeps us sane. We laugh with friends, play a video game like the result actually matters, worry about who is wearing red or who is wearing blue either in a football game or in the hood. And, often, we come up with funny one liners about life, text them to our buddies, facebook them for friends, read theirs as they do the same, as they slowly let that super neon greatness seep out a little at a time.
I just got done with a suggested break from Facebook. I don't think Facebook is evil. I think actually that it is one of those amazing moments of greatness that someone let out when they opened themselves up to it. It wasn't kept bottled up as some idea in a notebook or a computer lab. It wooshed out of somewhere.
I'm not sure how much super neon radioactive greatness I have in me. Most of us assume we don't have very much. But as life moves me, shakes me around and gets those bubbles all excited, pressure building... what would happen if I opened myself up a little more. What if I twisted that cap all of the way off instead of always coming up with little one liners for my Facebook friends.
I like Facebook, I like letting off a little steam. I like socializing with great people I've had the fortune to know throughout various times in my life. But I haven't painted for a long time now, I haven't been on any photo shoots lately, I have a half finished screenplay in a drawer, I have poorly written songs floating around in my brain, I have great ideas for huge lessons for my students... but I'm not sure I have enough foggy neon carbonation... so I might need to conserve here and there.
This probably makes little to no sense. I just don't want to exist, I don't want to "get through it". I want to wallow in sticky greatness. I want to be near it when others open themselves up and share themselves with the world. I don't want to get dusty on a shelf, letting my bubbles fizzle out. And I don't want to only open my cap a tiny bit at a time, always letting enough pressure out that I am never motivated to do something big.
Those are my thoughts, weird philosophical nonsensical neon super Sprite thoughts about my time off of Facebook. I'll still be around... but maybe a little less.
Fizz on...
Compartments
The other day I was driving to work. I commute for 45 minutes or so. Typically I ride with Matt a few days per week, but on the day in question we had different schedules after school. I got on the freeway and almost instantly got into a traffic jam. I quickly texted Matt and suggested he choose a different route. While I was starting to grouse in my head about the horrible painful mind numbing slow pace we were traveling Matt texted back. He was going a different way as per my suggestion but had heard on the radio what had happened to cause the traffic jam. It's hard to continue to grouse, or huff or puff about driving somewhere slow when you find out a man got hit by a dump truck. A construction worker who was picking up those barrier barrels after the night's work on the road got ran into. He was listed in serious condition. I got to work not even that late and everything was fine... for me.
The traffic I am talking about was down by where I live, nowhere near where I teach. I didn't connect any dots at all when an email came from the counseling office asking for homework for a student (name withheld) whose father had been in an accident and was in the hospital. She didn't come to school the next couple of days.
I have to wonder if I am the only one who lives my love so compartmentalized. It will sound obvious to you that these two events are connected, but I didn't even think of making that connection at the time.
Two days ago, Friday, that same girl came to my room with her grandma, asking for homework for the next few days too. I had learned about the connection by now, and knew that her dad had died that morning.
I pulled up my Google calendar and let her know what had been covered and what would be next. But I stopped myself in the middle of explaining one of the assignments and said, "You know what, none of this is that important. Just take care of you." "If you need something to think about, go ahead and look over formulas and equations in Excel, but I'm gonna pretty much just give you an A when you get back."
I had a dad die of another student last year also. I've been teaching for five seconds and I've already had to develop a policy about what happens when your parent dies! It makes sense, I have hundreds of students at any given time, so of course, bad things are going to happen. I hope that I will not over compartmentalize my humanity. I hope that I can always say.. "You know what, just take care of you first."
The traffic I am talking about was down by where I live, nowhere near where I teach. I didn't connect any dots at all when an email came from the counseling office asking for homework for a student (name withheld) whose father had been in an accident and was in the hospital. She didn't come to school the next couple of days.
I have to wonder if I am the only one who lives my love so compartmentalized. It will sound obvious to you that these two events are connected, but I didn't even think of making that connection at the time.
Two days ago, Friday, that same girl came to my room with her grandma, asking for homework for the next few days too. I had learned about the connection by now, and knew that her dad had died that morning.
I pulled up my Google calendar and let her know what had been covered and what would be next. But I stopped myself in the middle of explaining one of the assignments and said, "You know what, none of this is that important. Just take care of you." "If you need something to think about, go ahead and look over formulas and equations in Excel, but I'm gonna pretty much just give you an A when you get back."
I had a dad die of another student last year also. I've been teaching for five seconds and I've already had to develop a policy about what happens when your parent dies! It makes sense, I have hundreds of students at any given time, so of course, bad things are going to happen. I hope that I will not over compartmentalize my humanity. I hope that I can always say.. "You know what, just take care of you first."
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Martin
I went down to the health teacher to ask a few questions. We determined since it was just his personal experience and he wasn't trying to exaggerate or entertain it was perfectly acceptable for Martin's personal PowerPoint to talk about his family member's cocaine addiction, his Grandfather being shot and killed and his cousin who was raped by the uncle, apparently she will be having the baby next month. Martin amazes me. He has the swagger of a banger, but he says he isn't. He admits that people in his family are, and that they have tried to recruit him. He is my fastest typist still. Even though he sits in the middle of a group of friends who are less than hard workers, he is always on track, a little behind sometimes, but not by much. I rearranged some of my seating charts last week. At the beginning of the year I let the kids first choose their own seats and give them a chance to be successful next to their buddies and friends. Most of everyone is doing great, but a few tweaks seemed like a good idea. I tried to avoid completely re-doing all of the charts, making everyone miserable, just wanted to move a few people enough to let them know I think they could do better. I made sure to let them know my thoughts on the matter as I shifted this person and that. I only had one corner of guys in one class I completely rearranged, and I made sure to leave them close enough to a friend that they could chat now and again. I left one girl where she was but moved away the boy she was flirting with so they both could get more done. They admitted begrudgingly that I had a point. I didn't move Martin, he is the best thing that group of friends could have. He keeps them informed and is a great example. But I just found out he is moving on the 20th. He is going to move in with his sister because her kids are not doing very well. They live on an Army base in Germany and the kids need more discipline. So Martin, the 9th grader, will be the solution apparently. I wish he could just have more time to concentrate on himself first, on just being a kid. He says he is going to join the army as soon as he can.
Good luck Martin, I'll be thinking of you.
Good luck Martin, I'll be thinking of you.
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