Tag: life

Something to Say

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The following essay was written for a Writing Contest hosted by Positive Writer entitled You are Enough.

http://positivewriter.com/writing-contest-you-are-enough/

I believe each one of us has something important to say.  Valuable ideas, opinions, and questions are always hovering at the forefront of our minds. The decision to keep these thoughts inside our head, say them out loud, or write them down is personal. But once we decide to engage in this process of writing, the freedom experienced far outweighs any prior apprehensions.

Whether typed on a personal tech device or handwritten in a journal, the simple act of writing words down gives them life. Suddenly we see them in a different light. Simple ideas once floating around in our head instantly become concrete-combinations of letters in black and white ready to be read over and over, edited and expanded.

Once words are given life, we have another choice to make. Will our words remain private or will we find an appropriate platform for sharing?  Some may remain unread until we are no longer living, leaving behind insights intended only for those closest to us.  Others we may choose to display freely for anyone to read.

My family recently received a wonderful gift of words. After the passing of my Aunt Pearl, numerous precious pages written in her own handwriting were discovered by her children. Did she consider herself a writer? No-yet her words, beautifully describing her life, her hopes and her dreams, provided comfort during a time of grief.

Certain words, however, need to be shared in the present. Not only for the writer’s benefit but also the unexpected help they may provide others. A strong likelihood exists that other people are coping with the same life challenges and fears, yet have not found the courage to give their thoughts life.  Your words may provide the encouragement they need.

I was extremely nervous about sharing my personal story concerning depression in written form.  Typing those confessions gave them a new sense of reality.  Once I took the next step and clicked the publish button, a flood of positive responses arrived. Others suddenly felt free to tell their personal stories, and their powerful words provided the realization that I was not alone in my struggles.

What happens when we choose courage and allow our words to make a positive contribution to this world?  We won’t know until we write. Don’t be afraid!  Your thoughts have great value. And once put into words, they help tell your story-the specific set of life experiences belonging only to you. No one else is exactly like you, and someone out there needs to hear your words, your insights, your story! Get busy writing!

Something important needs to be said which only you can say!

A Single Snapshot

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I continue to be amazed how one photo has the power to bring such a flood of emotions.  Just when I think my heart is ok, one picture of my sweet friend Marie-and I’m crying.  See earlier blog post:   Face to Face with Child Abuse: Personal Reflections of a Teacher

A sweet teacher friend recognized Marie in an online adoption video and shared the link.  I had to watch it, of course.  Hearing how the social worker described her-listening as Marie answered questions about her favorite things-all I could think was, “I know the answer!”  Like an impatient student raising their hand, shouting, “Pick me! Pick me! Oh, and here’s some additional info you didn’t even ask for.”

I was struck by the social workers comment, “She deserves a family.”  I completely agree.  She’s not the only one.  While looking at this link, I saw pages and pages of other children-all with a story-all without a family.  And then my questions started all over again.  How does this happen?  Why does this happen so often?  What do we do to help?

My initial reaction was to shout inside my head, “I don’t have any answers!”  But when I took a step back and calmed my emotions, the following things came into focus:

  • Amazing people who have chosen to be foster parents.
  • Others who have adopted or are considering adoption.
  • People like myself-looking for ways to be an advocate and friend.

No, these positives won’t wipe away all the heartache.  They are however, small steps in the right direction.  When a child who has been neglected, abused, and deserted is able to experience love, acceptance, and security-the healing process begins.  I continue to witness this in my sweet friend.

There is still so much to do.  I don’t want to become complacent in searching for ways to advocate for my friend.  It’s also important for me to recognize the children right in front of me everyday who are facing the same kind of sadness and heartache.  Yes, it feels like an impossible, daunting task.  Today I was reminded of my role and responsibility-and for that reminder I’m thankful.

I was also reminded of the impact this one child has had on my heart.  No amount of my tears can cover the suffering she has endured, but seeing her smile gives me hope.

“And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.”  Galatians 6:9

 

As We Go

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This past Friday was a rainy, inside recess kind of day.  My last class of the day is 2nd grade.  So I made a last minute change of plans and decided to teach them a game, Instrument Bingo.  Fairly certain they would at least be familiar with the concept of Bingo, I began to explain this particular version.

Bingo cards are made up of musical instrument pictures, each one also identified by written names.  Many types of instruments, representing all parts of the world, are shown on the cards.  Students listen to recordings of the instruments being played and a voice also tells them the name.  It’s a win, win kinda game.

I wanted this to be a fun learning activity-reminding them I did not expect them to already know all these instruments, and we would be learning them as we played the game. One sweet girl raised her hand, “You mean, we will all learn together as we go.”  Yes!  That is exactly what we will be doing!

That one statement from an innocent 2nd grader holds much wisdom.  As I wrote it down on my “positives” list, I began to think about all the ways it applies to life. Being a spouse, parent, and teacher are perfect examples.  Often our focus is on the big event-a wedding, birth of a baby, college graduation, our first teaching job-culminating in our suddenly taking on those identities.

Yes, those events are important and grant us that particular role or position in name, but time and experience are required for actual transformation.  And that’s what true learning is-transformation.  I need to remember this when feeling frustrated or disappointed with myself concerning my life responsibilities.

My goal should be learning from my own mistakes as well as from others who have more experience.  Followed by a willingness to share what I learn with those who may have just begun their journey down a similar path.  Always making sure to remember-we are all just learning together as we go.

 

As I Go

I am not the same wife I was

On my wedding day

I am not the same mom I was

On my first child’s birth day

So many people, places, events

Influenced who I am today

So many words, prayers, tears

Helped to light my way

 

As I continue walking along

This path we know as life

Will my desires be persistent

To become a better mom and wife

Should I choose to recognize

I am not alone in my strife

Transformation through lessons learned

Will prove worthy of sacrifice

List the Positives

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Yesterday I vowed to keep a list of positives throughout the day today in hopes of helping my mood and focus.  Well…I have a list.  It took me until lunch time to actually start writing anything down, but by the end of the day my list covered both sides of a post-it note.

  •  Cooler weather
  •  Students positive responses to having a choice between whiteboards and popsicle  sticks for writing or constructing their rhythmic patterns.
  •  Hearing, “I got it right!”
  •  Receiving three books from students off of my book fair list.
  •  Unplanned, improvised “singing” of one of those books.
  •  A student who has severe anxiety, always sits alone and doesn’t speak to me,  accepted a music stamp on his hand when leaving class today.

Was it a perfect day?  No-there’s no such thing.  But was it a good day?  Yes.  And even though I may not be able to use my mood as an indicator for the success of the day, I can look back on my list and be reminded of the things that were good.  Funny thing is, almost all the items are things over which I have little or no control.

So what do I have control over?  Continuing to look for the positive.  My responses to the people and situations I encounter.  Loving my family, friends, and students.

Any guesses which book I sang today?  It was super fun!

books

 

Popsicle Sticks & Clouds

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Time for confession-I am struggling this week.  Low days, fighting back tears, just the general blahs.  It will pass, I’m sure.  When this happens, thankfully I’ve learned to recognize it and say it out loud.  If it lasts longer than a week, there’s a need to talk with a trusted friend or family member.

All that to say-I found myself searching for the positive on my drive home from school today.  The sun was shining, the sky a beautiful blue with perfect, fluffy, floating clouds. Besides blue being my favorite color, I’ve always been fascinated with the sky and its inhabitants.  Seeing one like this today most definitely helped my mood.

clouds2

Once my attitude began to change, I remembered kindergarten class from earlier today.  We’ve been learning about rhythmic patterns while going on our adventures with Freddie the Frog.  Today was review time and students were creating patterns on the Smart Board.  Their ability to not only create a pattern but also read it out loud was a pleasant surprise.

Each of them was eager to give it a try-all twenty of them-at the same time.  Suddenly I remembered the popsicle stick basket. First and second graders had used them the day before to create patterns on the carpet. I hadn’t planned on using them with kindergarten just yet.

Change of plans!  I asked the kiddos to move to our circle and gave each a hand full of popsicle sticks-rhythmic patterns began to appear everywhere!  Once we cleaned up, I asked students to brainstorm ways they could do this activity at home if they didn’t have popsicle sticks.  Crayons!  Pencils!  Markers!  Legos!  And on and on and on…one mentioned writing down their patterns.  Impressive!

Encouraged by the success of my kindergartners, I decided to attempt the activity I had asked them to try at home.  Here are my results.

Goal for tomorrow-begin my day looking for the positive.  Will I be successful?  I don’t know.  But hopefully I will remember that the simplest things can change my day for the better-even popsicle sticks and clouds.

Lessons Learned

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Returned from a long weekend workshop to a not-so-great report from one of my classes…a fifth grade class.  You know, the ones who are supposed to be my leaders.  If there was any class to be concerned about, this would not have been the one I’d pick.  I was disappointed to say the least.  So the first day back started with a heart to heart chat.

While expressing my sadness over their actions and some missing candy, I knew the tears were going to start-mine, not theirs.  A few of them did join in after a few minutes.  My purpose in confronting the students was not to make them feel bad.  It was about giving them a chance to make a good choice and be honest about what happened while I was gone.

We all make poor choices sometimes.  All of us-no exceptions.  And even though it’s difficult, admitting those mistakes brings growth and freedom.  My students had the chance to make things right, and I’m proud to say almost all of them rose to the challenge.

Reading their apology notes later in the day, I once again found myself getting choked up.  There were sweet assurances of their love and appreciation-covered in hearts and music notes, of course.  For some, the realization and acknowledgement they had not fulfilled leadership roles.  But the one that touched me the most-“I’m so sorry that I made you feel sad.”  Wow.

Just as with my own children, I work hard to get my students to think about how their behaviors affect other people.  Or how they would feel being on the receiving end of an unkind word or action.  Today I learned that I must keep teaching those lessons.  They really do listen!  And when given the chance-make the right choice.  A choice with the power to encourage this teacher to keep teaching.

Fast forward…the next morning at school (day after our little chat) one sweet student said, “My brother and I have something for you.”  An entire bag of candy to replace what had “disappeared” while I was away.  The amazing thing is their mom would have had no way of knowing what happened unless they went home and shared.  It may seem like a small gesture to some, but for me…the best gift I could have possibly received.

Here’s to teaching! The lessons we impart, but more importantly the ones we learn along the way.

Person First

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Sometimes my brain plays tricks on me

And the person in my head

Doesn’t match the reflection I see

My life has great worth, though not all believe

Yet from the time I was born

My mom reassured me

I shout out “Hello!” from inside my brain

Even though you can’t hear it

I’m shouting it, just the same

Who do you see when you look my way?

Will you take time to know me

Or will you just look away?

Do you ever think about what others see?

When they look your way

Are you fretful or free?

No matter our differences, I hope you’ll agree

We are all persons first

Always remember…Oh, please!

Parent/Child Circle

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Being both daughter and mom of a daughter creates a constant cycle of emotions and challenges.  As a daughter, I did not truly appreciate the actions of my mom until becoming a mom myself.  As a mom, I continually struggle with whether or not my parenting decisions were best for my children.  It’s an unending, mixed up, beautiful circle.

There were times I certainly drove my mom crazy and surely caused her many sleepless nights.  Thankfully she did not give up on me during my young adult years despite some poor choices on my part.  Somehow we both survived.  Although my children may not have supplied the same grief,  I have experienced the worry and sleepless nights.  Part of the job, I suppose.

In a recent conversation, my mom expressed some regret over some of her parenting choices-wishing she had talked more openly about certain subjects.  You know the ones-uncomfortable ones we tend to avoid.  Almost as if she thought my mistakes were her fault.  Naturally, I reassured her that she was a great mom and that I made my own choices.

Truthfully, there comes a time when each of us is responsible for our own actions.  My young adult choices were mine-good or bad, and I had to deal with their consequences. The older I become the more I understand how even those mistakes helped form this person I see in the mirror.  Yes, they brought guilt and sorrow, but also allowed me to encounter life-changing forgiveness and grace.  And that affects how I relate to the people in my life.

At first, I didn’t understand why my mom felt the way she did.  How could she possibly think my mistakes were her fault?  Then I began to reflect on my own parenting.  From that perspective, I began to understand.  Our children are part of us.  One of our greatest responsibilities.  And in some ways, part of our reflection.  We want to see the best parts of ourselves in those reflections.

As parents, we love, worry, pray, and provide-but still feel like we’re falling short.  Did we encourage enough?  Or too much?  Was our opinion expressed too strongly?  Or not strongly enough? Did we efficiently equip our children to make good decisions?  On the one hand feeling responsible for our children’s mistakes, on the other acknowledging our parents are not responsible for ours.  Certainly a contradiction of ideas.

Logical or not, this crazy cycle goes on and on.  Is this cause for concern?  Something we need to change?  I would argue no.  This is the parent/child circle.  You can’t be a parent without first being a child.  You can’t be a child without first having a parent.  Sounds simple, but it is beautifully complicated.  As a parent I would say it is worth the worry and sleepless nights.  And maybe if I stop to remember what it was like to be a child, I won’t be quite so hard on myself as a parent.

Going Home

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Growing up, giving directions to my house was always interesting.  It went something like this…”Drive past the Natural Steps sign and Moreland’s Grocery Store, go around a sharp curve, over a hill, then you’ll see a straight stretch of road.  Right at the end of the straight stretch, turn left onto Mahar Road.”  Mahar is my mom’s maiden name, hence the name of the road.

My husband likes to tell people that I grew up in a commune, but that is not the case. The quarter of a mile road,  lined with trees on both sides, dead ends into a wide-open valley.  My grandparent’s house was in the center, surrounded by several homes belonging to my aunts, uncles, and my parents.  Huge oaks, towering pines, and grassy fields provided plenty of room for kids to run and play.

That’s where I spent my childhood-riding bikes, digging in the dirt, playing kickball and basketball with my cousins.  And since my mom had six sisters and two brothers, there were always cousins around.  They say I made them listen to me practice piano and violin…well, maybe a few times.  But most of the time, we were outside.  Distinct memories include singing at the top of my lungs while riding bicycles, trying to fool my uncle with mud pies, and playing “King of the Mountain” on Grandma’s front porch.

Almost thirty-three years have passed since I lived on Mahar Road.  Even while typing I think surely that can’t be correct! Oh, but it is…despite the years gone by and having a family of my own, I still refer to this special place as home.  I’m thankful to have grown up there-carefree, no worries about safety, room to let our imaginations run wild.

Of course, things have changed since I was a child.  My grandparents are no longer living, cousins are all grown and many, just like me, have moved away.  That doesn’t matter.  Simply driving the route that leads to home causes any anxiety to melt away.  My brain slows down, my body relaxes, and while there I truly rest.  Sometimes I even feel like a kid again.

Thinking about my childhood reminds me that home is so much more than a house.  It’s the people, the places, the memories.  And sometimes…you just need to go home.