Remembering Why…

"Capturing the moments, the stars..."

“Practice really listening to your [students]. Make eye contact. Hear between the lines. Do you really know what they are saying?”

from Konos Curriculum

I found this quote during the summer while preparing curriculum and lesson plans for the year.

Isn’t that a bit of a “duh” type of thing? I mused as I delightedly thought I was completely prepared for the year.

Months later, besieged by the amount of work yet to do and working with the limited material circumstances placed before me, I rediscovered the quote.

Am I listening to my students? My brain paused from it perpetual sprinting. Of course I am! Look at what I have to do and what’s not getting done and what I need and what I’m waiting on and how they’re still learning and we’re on schedule…

My focus began to shift back to the never ending to-do list, but the quote had cast a spell on me. A net sparkling with dew drops of what’s really important in life captured my attention.

“...really listening to your [students]…”

Be honest, self. Be cruelly honest. No excuses, self. See things as they really are. No shirking from the truth. You can always do better! Always improve! Now be honest. What about this? What is your consuming focus right now?

If you would happen to look out my window, you would see a wealth of evergreens dotted by a few brave deciduous trees almost complete in the colors of fall. Fallen leaves and pine needles scatter about, grasses are at their last peek of green – their healing from the heat of summer. Today the sky is blue, deeper than a baby blue, only a thin trail of clouds float across…October in Georgia, USA.

But what I see out my window is the quiet. The still.

Where is my focus? What is my focus?

How easy is it to become enveloped by the to-dos and the preparation and the planning. How quickly does my focus shift from being the teacher to being the planner. Am I the secretary of the boatload of students? Simply giving them their own to-do lists, material they need to accomplish those items, and saying, “Great! Now here’s the next thing to learn.”

Am I focused on holistic teaching?  

It covers more than topics and materials. More than lesson plans and curriculum.

Holistic teaching recognizes the individuality of the students sitting before you. It smiles at S’s methodical way of processing information which always includes a fountain of questions. It encourages H while she balances school, life, and illness. It becomes excited as K expresses her own excitement about the subject and the amazing improvement and her coming into her own. It praises J while he begins to learn a language and it attempts to pronounce the Mandarin he shares, “this is how you say…” It patiently listens to G as he shares everything he knows and tells M she can fix those detailed edits. It looks to makes connections with A and C, encouraging their individual writing styles and helping them showcase their humor in a structured format like writing. It patiently listens as each elementary student remembers the same person from their reading assignment, it looks the middle school students in the eyes and say “you can do better than this,” and it encourages those high schoolers struggling to balance their academics, work, and social life.

It looks for the soul of the child.

Where is my focus as a teacher?

I don’t know about you, but this fall I found myself consumed by the to-dos. My focus fastened on the “yet to dones.”

Refocus. Am I listening to my students? Do I see them. Am I seeing the whole student, not just the homework turned in and the “don’t lean back in your chair, please”?

About one month and a half remains in the semester. The year is almost gone. So fast! 

Refocus. The to-dos will be finished at some point. Life-important are the students in front of me. Am I listening to them?

Can I encourage you and, in the process, myself?

No matter what circumstances throw your way, whether you too are working week-by-week on lesson plans, or you are overwhelmed by tasks, or watch the to-do list growing faster than shrinking, or are focusing on one thing – getting to fall break, or are sorting through the responsibilities your employers hand to you, or are so busy you stopped writing everything down in your calendar, or balancing work and social life…no matter what…treasure the moments with your students. Listen to them.

Yes, education is important; it’s mind-growing and eye-opening.

But, oh, so much more so, is the soul of the child sitting before you watching your every move, hearing your every word.

Am I listening to my students?

  

And three years and I am learning why God let me teach.

Thanks for letting me learn along with you…

Ms. Schmidt

Perseverance

This summer, I somehow caught pneumonia … and I still have it. It’s been downgraded from full-blown “Oh honey, I’m afraid you’re far more ill than you realize,” and a ridiculous amount of drugs to “Your lungs look better but maybe you need steroids.” My pride in my general good health has also been downgraded. I’d never been that sick before, and it came so suddenly that it threw me for a loop, not just physically but psychologically as well. Normally, I pack out my schedule with trips and projects and social outings, but I quickly found myself unable to keep up with a normal routine. Between summer and now, I've gotten much better, but still deal with the cough and tiredness. As all teachers know, it’s hard to keep up the pace and do your best for the young scholars when you don’t feel well! In the first few weeks of school, some students were worried I was going to die from the pneumonia when they heard me cough, and one endearing child actually cried, which broke my heart. I promised them that I'm on the mend.

             My pneumonia is small compared to what many others walk through, from heartaches to financial woes to trials to actual serious life-threating illnesses like cancer. One of my colleagues, for example, continued to teach throughout rounds of chemotherapy, like the champ that she is. People like that floor me, especially on days when getting up with the alarm feels like scaling Everest. They come to school and love these crazy kids of out reserves they may not know they had. Even the youngest kids exemplify persistence in the face of their own Everests. One little scholar started out his academic career with a deep dread of writing, and used to psych himself up for it by chanting (in a high squeaky voice, no less): "Come on, self! You can do it, self! I believe in you!" 

              During college, my dad once sent me an email that I’ll never forget. I had been complaining about trying to keep up with work, classes, internships and extracurriculars. He listened nicely, adding some comments at the end of my rant like, “You can do it!” The next morning, he sent me this email:

“Darling Daughter,

Just remember: with harder subjects and problems you have to keep hurling yourself at it again and again. The “walls” around almost anything cannot withstand the constant battering of a determined mind. You take care of yourself now. Try to get good rest every night and take your vitamins. Always take vitamins!!  

Love,

Dad”

This is what I tell my students, and this is what I tell myself too, because we are human and we get tired. When I feel especially constricted by my humanity, I like to fall back on this truth:

Colossians 1:11-12 May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light.

May the wisdom of my dad and the eternal wisdom of our Lord encourage and lift you up during this new week of teaching!! Looking forward to sharing our amazing inheritance some day.

Love,

Miss K

101 Ways to Wear a Cardigan: Part II

We're back to cardigans, and this time, we mean business.

Lesson #2: Cardigans are like people. There are thin ones, there are thick ones. There are short ones, there are longs ones. But every one has a special place in the world. Some just need a little more spiffing up than others.

Specimen 1 (The Boyfriend Cardi): Why is it called the boyfriend cardigan, you might ask? No, it is not because it likes to cling to your backside. It is called a boyfriend cardigan because it is reminiscent of the cardigan your boyfriend might have offered you when you were cold during that high school football game. It has a more boyish cut in that it is longer (therefore, covering your rump), and the buttons start at the bottom and do not come all the way up. They generally stop a few inches below the bust line. Many boyfriend cardigans also have pockets. The boyfriend cardi is great when you want to dress down an outfit. It brings a bit of comfy-casual to the table. This cardigan is great for tunics, and other outfits where you are not in the mood to show off your hind curves. Boyfriend cardigans are also great for belting.

Specimen 2 (The Short Cardigan): This is the most common cardigan. For you fellow JCrew lovers out there, the Jackie Cardigan is one fine example of a short cardigan. The short cardigan goes better with dresses and tighter fitting pants because it stops right about where the curve of your bum begins. These are not typically the best for belting, unless you are belting underneath the cardigan.

Specimen 3 (The Textured or Patterned Cardigan): As mentioned before, some cardigans are thicker or have unique textures and/or patterns to them. *Also see Specimen 3 from 101 Ways... Part I. Thicker cardigans are great for warmer, outer layering, but generally not best when wanting to do extensive layering. Make sure that whatever you wear under it is thinner, or you might get the wadded up Michelin Man effect. When choosing your cardigan as the interest piece of your ensemble, make sure that you tone it down with more subtle pieces, and do not overwhelm it with too many flashy additions. Make sure your outfit has balance to it. Or if you do heap on the glam, make sure you have the attitude to work it.

Lesson #3: Sometimes it is overkill to accessorize your cardigan, but sometimes, it is just the fix you need. 

Specimen 1 (w/ Skinny Belt): If an outfit has all the right elements, but is a bit too boxy in the waist area, try reigning it in with a skinny belt. It should be snug, but not too tight. The muffin top look is bad enough at the hips, there's no need to bring in that effect at the waist. *Also, this is an example of the Medium Length or Mom Cardigan. It stops about mid-butt. It's a no frills, basic cardigan that usually begs to be accessorized. 

Specimen 2 (w/ Chunky Belt): Sometimes a skinny belt gets lost or overpowered in an outfit. If you need a more stand-out piece, or you're just not getting the shape you wanted, try a chunky belt. 

Specimen 3 (Belt Under Cardigan): When you need that little extra something-something, but it doesn't look quite right worn over your cardigan, try wearing it under your cardigan. *Also see Specimen 3 from Lesson #2 above.

Specimen 3 (Fancy Buttons): If you're tired of your old cardigan, and want to give it a fresh look, yank off those buttons and add your own. Craft stores are full of adorable buttons just looking for a home.

Lesson #4: Cardigans have other functions besides giving you the right shape.

Specimen 1 (The Tone-Down): If you are like me, and you love florals, fun patterns, and bright colors, you may need a couple more conservative cardigans to tone down the crazy, and restore order to the universe. 

Specimen 2 (The Middle Man): Every so often, an outfit needs an additional layer of warmth, or perhaps an extra dash of color. Once again, the cardigan is given the chance to fulfill its telos as the greatest layering piece of all time. 

I hope I have given you some handy ideas on how to spruce up your daily ensemble. We will be moving on, but if you have any questions or creative thoughts on the fine art of cardigan wearing, please pass them my way!

-Miss C

Community

Desperation begets community. That realization of "I cannot do this" followed by "but someone has; I wonder who?" The answer often saves my bacon. Newton made famous Bernard of Chartres idea that we are like dwarfs on the shoulders on giants, so that we can see more than they, and things at a greater distance, not by virtue of any sharpness of sight on our part, or any physical distinction, but because we are carried high and raised up by their giant size. Whenever I pass by the classroom poster with that quote on it, I picture what I must look like crawling to the top of my mentors' shoulders while handing my students a ladder to stand on mine. And, yes, some days my life as a teacher feels a bit like a bad circus act.

Last night, I had the opportunity to return to my alma mater for a homecoming roundtable discussion designed to allow students and alumni to dialogue about the best vocation ever. I had the honor to chair the panel comprised of four other colleagues who have taught in private or public education institutions across the country. It was a tremendous time of community building between the current students of the college and those of us who called it home for so many years. Each of us in the room had shared in the same traditions, a common core curriculum, and conversed with the same professors. It was such an encouragement to look back and see how in a few short years I went from being that anxious college student to a professional. As students asked questions about topics ranging from classroom management to the pros and cons of teaching in a public school, I kept thinking of how none of this is possible without community. Those who have come before modeling teacherhood and now here I am doing the same to a lesser extent for those just a few years my junior.

I remember sitting at my desk as an overwhelmed, first year teacher trying to write a syllabus, curriculum map, classroom procedures, and unit plans. And it was is in those moments I remembered a singularly important piece of advice I received from a professor, "when it comes to [lesson] planning, be a pirate: unapologetically beg, borrow, and steal." What I did not realize at the time was that this process is what builds community within the world of pedagogues. I used to be terrified to admit to anyone, much less my coworkers, that there are just some things I cannot do, do not know, or execute very badly; and I need help! After teaching for five years, I am proud to say that this tendency has been smashed to smithereens; and I am a much better person for it.

During the roundtable discussions, a student asked how teachers network. Within the business world, networking is primarily utilized to find new jobs, locate potential employees or promote a product in a new market. The process feels a bit like an elaborate hunt. You know the shape and size of your prized target and you do everything in your power to maneuver yourself to the perfect position for that introduction which will change your life. Bam! Target acquired, check that one off the list. Next! Juxtaposed to the hunter is the gatherer. The person more interested in the choice berries, many in variety, which can be found in common places; perhaps, less thrilling than the hunt, but the results are just as satisfying.  In the educational community, networking is your sanity. It enables you to find those people who have been doing your job a year or a score of years longer, who have a treasure trove of stories and wisdom to share. Wendell Berry writes in The Art of the Commonplace: The Agrarian Essays that, "a proper community, we should remember also, is a commonwealth: a place, a resource, an economy. It answers the needs, practical as well as social and spiritual, of its members―among them the need to need one another." Being committed to lifelong learning comes with it a commitment to learning from those we encounter and realizing that we cannot do life, much less education, well without them.

During the roundtable discussion, another student asked how teachers in a Christian school counteract the rampant spiritual apathy of  those students who have been raised in a Christian home, go to church on Sunday and attend a Christian school five days a week. I got to thinking what this looks like in my classroom. It seems that one of the most powerful ways to counteract apathetic Christianity is to model for students what it means to be a godly woman, passionate about living life. The things I share with my students often surprise them. It is not unusual for me to begin class with a story from the previous evening's dinner.  

My husband and I enjoy hosting interesting people at our home for dinner or if they live far away, we will meet halfway at a restaurant. We get so excited to just talk about big ideas and feel incredibly refreshed after stimulating conversation in a way that is different from almost any other time spent pursuing hobbies or activities. I am naturally an introvert and spent many years thinking that life was just a lot less messy when fewer people were involved. After living with my extremely extroverted husband, I have been converted to the opinion that quality time with quality people enriches life. In fact, I find myself learning so much more from people than books these days. I'm beginning to realize that intentional community is worth the effort. When I tell my students of fun dinner conversations, they ask me how I know so many cool people. It's fun to tell them that interesting people are all around, you just have to take the time to look for them and the effort to cultivate relationship. The same goes for teaching. Looking for those people who have "been there and done that" is worth the effort and enriches the process. It's part of standing on the shoulders of giants.

Meaningful community fills life with zest, sweetens our time here on earth, and points us towards those things which are most important. And as educators, community is certainly what keeps us sane. I hope that this blog becomes a place for us to network as teachers, share resources, ideas and encouragement; and that it helps us to see just a bit farther than those who came before us.

Blessings,

Mrs. Ting