This girl loves…a bad day gone good.

Words that inspire...

Words that inspire…

Do you ever have one of those days where you just want to be somewhere else?  You wake up and you just want to crawl back into bed.  You want to drink your tea and watch Netflix or curl up with that book you just started.

Today was one of those days.  That is until I got to school.

It started with Her Story.

She had turned it in early because she was going to be out of class for a few days.  I saw her over the weekend and she asked if I had read her story yet.  I told her I hadn’t had  chance, but that it was on my desk waiting for me.  She didn’t know of my migraine on Friday or the mound of papers sitting on my desk.  Then I saw her at school today and she asked again, “Have you read my story?”  I felt like the world’s worst teacher.  It was still sitting, unread, on my desk.  So I told her, “I have a free period next hour and I promise I’ll read it then.”  Had I known that this piece would change my entire outlook on the day and reconfirm why I love being a humanities teacher, I would have fought through the pain of my migraine and put this on the top of my “to-grade” pile.

I recall this student saying she had nothing to write about during language arts last week.  I asked her to look through her chart of ideas and try to find something.  After a few failed attempts, she asked if she could write about not being able to write.  Feeling that students need to take chances as writers I said, “You can try.”  And try she did.

Throughout her I-can’t-think-of-anything-to-write story, she wrote a piece full of dialogue, inner thinking, and precise details.  (These are all strategies we are currently emphasizing in class in order to write powerful personal narratives.)  My favorite parts included the dialogue between us, particularly the part when I told her she could try.  I like to think she included this because allowing her to try was what made this beautiful piece of writing come to light.  The imagery created was one that teachers dream about, “I try to think of something to write but my mind fees like a black hole swallowing every idea.”  Brilliant!

Then, to put a cherry on top of an already inspired morning, my students surprised me with their text-to-text connections between A Snicker of Magic and The Dot.  

Today was International Dot Day and my class celebrated by reading the book The Dot and completing an art project using pointillism.  In discussing the theme of the book, three of my boys said that they thought the book was trying to tell us what our shared-reading book was trying to tell us.  That, everyone has a talent.  Making these text-to-text connections shows their deeper thinking and understanding of the stories they are reading.  What more could a teacher ask for?

To round out the day, while having dinner with my youngest brother, I told him of today’s “highs”.  He said offhandedly, “It’s so interesting to see how your profession brings out your passions.  You became a teacher because you were told you’d be good at it and, through teaching, your passions have ignited.”  I’d say that’s a pretty fair assessment of today’s events.

I have known since the first day I set foot in my own classroom that I wanted to teach.  Today, and other days like today, reminded me why I still want to teach.  These are the days that keep me going.

 

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This girl loves…lightness of life.

Life

Life lightening.

Life has been trying lately.  The passing of my dog still sits at the forefront of my mind most of the time, sometimes hitting me so hard that I gasp for air.  I miss him wholly and completely.  His loss is palpable.

But, there’s hope.  There’s happiness.  There is a lightening of life.

Lightness has taken many different forms.

Some lightness I’ve found in children’s books like A Snicker of Magic.  Some in light-hearted fiction like From Notting Hill to New York…Actually.  And some in seriously beautiful literature like The Hundred-Foot Journey.   In each of these stories I’ve found lightness.  In Snicker, it was Felicity’s hopefulness.  In Notting Hill, it was Scarlett’s kindness.  And in Journey, it was Hassan’s passion.  With each book read I’ve noticed little pieces of my heart being returned to me.

And it’s not just the stories illuminating the darkness.  Oh no, it’s so much more.

It’s the lightness I’ve found in tending to my plants, watching their slow growth.  It’s in the air I breathe each day as I gaze out at my grassy lawn.  It’s in the drops of dew I lift from a newly ripened strawberry.

It’s the lightness I’ve found in cooking.  With each slice and garnish I’ve lighted my way.  And with each bite, I’ve savored the flavors as they’ve filled my mouth.

It’s the lightness I’ve found in yoga.  I’ve found my center, my breath, and my soul.  I’m learning to breathe into myself.  I’m learning to listen to my body more and my mind less.

It is interesting how light, once illuminated, spreads. I know that “happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban)

I’m learning to turn on the light.  For, it is this lightness that fulfills me.