Teaching
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Love Is
Love is speaking kindly to yourself when you put on a bathing suit. Love is giving yourself permission to sit and read, bake, or create when the to-do list is crushing your spirit. Love is reconnecting with a childhood friend who knew you when. Love is the laughter of littles as you read them a story. Love is seeing the person who needs help and helping. Love is the smell of blueberry pancakes on a Sunday morning. Love is the cat that rubs against your legs or sits beside you. Love is in the words, how was your day? Love is letting go of control. Love is gazing up at…
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Another Day In High School
They came back from lunch, sat at their desks and were fairly quiet for thirty-something seventeen-year-olds packed in a tiny room. The questions to the novel we read together were on the SmartBoard. My goal was to discuss the characters and themes. The students were quieter than normal, which falsely lead me to believe that they were really interested in our discussion. After all, this was a novel one boy had referred to as “a book I actually may buy.”
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My Mother’s Day Wish
I remember the moment I became a mom for the first time. The love that surged through me was like no other. That love grew with each child I cared for whether the child was mine or not. Children have a way of making me see the world with fresh eyes. Being around them forces my wandering mind to be in the moment and appreciate simple things like playing whiffle ball on a beautiful afternoon, jumping off a diving board, or choosing the perfect crayon from a box of sixty-four. Their curiosity, their enthusiasm, and their energy have a way of making me remember what’s truly important in life. When…
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The Superheroes of Society
Society Superheroes When I started fourth grade, I went to Reber Elementary in Vineland New Jersey. It was the fourth of five schools I attended from kindergarten to fifth grade. I remember the walk to school every morning. I’d meet my friend Ann Marie and walk with her to her Catholic school listening to her tales of her sisters and her friends at school; then I’d continue on to Reber where I knew no one. I remember arriving and standing in the cafeteria as they served breakfast counting the minutes until I could escape to the smaller quieter classroom. I didn’t have a single friend at Reber. I remember sitting in…
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The Boy Who Gave Me Hope
The boy who gave me hope He came to class most days looking like he’d just crawled out bed. I understood. My mornings began at 4:30 am. A seven am. school start time was early! I’d begin class, and he’d put his head down and sleep. My heart sank. A little voice told me to teach to the other thirty that listened. Still there he was not caring at all. I reached out to him. Nothing. I explained that there was make-up work to complete. Nothing. As the quarter continued his incompletes accumulated.
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The Dark Room
The room is empty, pitch black; I’m standing in the doorway trying to decide whether to walk in or shut the door and move on. I take a step. There’s a light switch. I turn it on, but it only illuminates as far as my next step. Curious, I continue knowing I could escape, run out slam the door and return to the comfort of what I know. Little by little, I make my way to the center of the room switching on more lights as I go, excitement stirs, I remember. It feels as though I’m standing in an abandoned amusement park watching as one ride after the other comes…
