{MOMent} hello to 2021

Currently listening to: "Super Smash Bros; Minecraft version" 

Here I sit at the computer. Coffee to my right. Snow just fell in my view. Boys playing a few minutes of games after helping me make breakfast. 

It's. Nice. 

OH, wait, the youngest is arguing now. Cool. 

I haven't written in several months for several reasons. I would read articles over a "hot topic" or issue that our country is facing. I would sit for a few days reflecting on my thoughts and by the time I had them organized and ready to type up a blog, the issue at hand would change. 

Now, I don't write for my readers. I write for myself. But what's the point of writing my opinion when I already sorted it out. I mean, yes it's good to have my thoughts out there to later have (a history)..... but time was also an issue.  

I don't feel like I have a lot of time. But that's an excuse.

So here's a cliff notes version of my thoughts for the last quarter of 2020:
Love people. 

This last year I had people declare that they no longer wanted a friendship with me. Love people. 
This year we have met new neighbors. Love people. 
This last year I started teaching after a pandemic. Love people. 
This year my children tested me daily. Love people. 
This last year we had an election. Love people. 
This year we had to deal as a country with a rapid virus. Love people. 
This last year we had to keep digging through racial tension and murder. Love people. 
This year my husband "lost" a job and started a new job. Love people. 
This last year I started my graduate program. Love people. 

The past 5 years I have come up with a word to reflect on for the year. Like a resolution. Some years I had monthly goals or others would be more over arching ideas.  2020's word was BLOOM.   I went back and read my entry to why the word, bloom.  Little did I know when writing it what the year would hold. 

I do feel like I bloomed. I grew. I created roots in areas of desire. I was watered and pour into by some very lovely....needed people.  I also discovered that I am an "8" on the enneagram.  (So, disregard my previous post a while back about me being a one.... not true!!)  With this discovery, I feel like I really flourished into who I am and why I do the things I do. It all just came together like a beautiful puzzle for the year of 2020. 

Here we are. 
Hello 2021. You are approaching quickly. 
I don't feel ready (do I ever).  

I honestly don't know what word to use this year.  I have toyed with the idea of: strength, rooted, gentle, endurance, deep.  

But what I think I landed on is.... MOMents. That's not a typo. As a mom, we take moments very seriously. Our time is more valuable than gold. I often criticize myself for wasting moments with my children, or not taking time to cool my jets and be more gentle with my words (I have to volumes.... normal and mom).  

I not only want this year to be about me, mom, and my transformation to continue to challenge myself and be better. But I want 2021 to be how I handle the day to day. Minute to minute. Moment to MOMent.  

~ 2021 ~
* use the planner Jeremiah bought me for Christmas
* write down daily moments of joy (in said planner)
* have more devoted moments with my creator
* take more healthy moments (drink more water, watch macros, move more)

* graduate with my masters in library science (will be accomplished moment by moment) 
* take a moment when needed (without feeling guilty)

* be in the moment when around other people (teaching, friends, children, spouse, etc...)

Teaching in 2020

 I've been pretty quiet as far as writing. Finishing up some grad work. Spending time with family. Stirring the pot on facebook... you know, just relaxing. 

Soooo many hot topics and people lately. It must be something in the water. 
In case you need to know.... put the mask on, you choose joy, love all people, don't burn things down, and watch out for kids.  

A coworker friend decided to post short little daily videos of her teaching journey this year, to look back on and reflect. What a wonderful idea!

Here is my journey.......

I started my 9th year of teaching, and my third semester of grad school, this week. Of those 9 years, 7 have been with middle school students divided at 3 districts in 2 states. Last year, and currently, I have been at a local high school. I teach Pre-Algebra and Algebra 1, with a few co-taught classes. 

Covid has been a topic that has never left conversation. It's here. I wrote these two post back in March and April, and it's so odd or weird to look back at them. "I Miss My Students"  and "I Tried to Stay Calm" 

But as I was reading previous post, what brought tears to my eyes (which is a big deal for I am not much of one to cry) and also brought joy to my heart, was reading the letter I wrote to myself a little over two years ago, called "Dear Future Self, Don't give up on teaching."

I wrote to myself the following words: 

So, future self, teaching is a hard job. There will always be paper work, hateful emails, not enough time, money or resources. There will be tears of joy, frustration, sadness and confusion. My heart will swell with love and break - sometimes at the same time. These kiddos are not mine by DNA standards but I will call them my own. I did not become a teacher for an easy life. I become a world changer. 

I just finished day two as a teacher during a pandemic.
I have survived. 

No. 
I have thrived in my first two days of teaching. It went surprisingly well. 

Most teachers don't care for the first awkward day. Syllabus, trying to get to know students, mispronouncing names (always me). My passion is to teach, not talk about drills and procedures and rules and..... 

But we did it. I taught all of my blocks in a mask. And you know what, the kids listened and participated in masks. And when we were done, they cleaned and allowed for staff to take their temps. They responded to different transitions, like being walked to lunch and not having water fountains (the school did provide water bottles). They joked and laughed. 

I did not hear any one complain or fuss in the slightest. We are talking about high school kiddos here. Yes, it might be early in the year. But I am hopeful. They wanted to be back, and I did too.

The year might not be ideal. There are going to be bumps along the way. But, I am not going to give up. We might not have all of the technology in place (finally going 1:1 and should get chromebooks soon!). We might not get to do group activities, or even sit in groups. We might not have all of the same traditional high school events. We might not have all of the answers. 

But what we do have, is each other.

These are my kids. And I am their teacher. 

Here is a picture of my classroom a few days prior to reopening. Take note that the dates still says March 13, 2020....

 

Here I am, mask up, ready to greet these kiddos.
A great friend got me my spiral necklace for my birthday! <3

I tried reading diverse books

We all have a story. 

Part of my story....three years ago, if you asked me, I would not say I was a reader. Fast forward, I am now working on my master's degree to become a media specialist/librarian with an emphasis on being culturally relevant and using books to build bridges.  

This is a list of my favorite young adult literature, including some non-fiction and from a variety of backgrounds. 

 
Jason Reynolds IS one of my favorite authors, hands down.
Also check out, Long Way Down, The Boy in the Black Suit, and When I was the Greatest

I can't rave enough about this book! Thank you Angie Thomas for creating this!
(Also a movie, but I have not seen it)

I had a student who didn't talk much in class, but after I read this book (that he suggested) we started to talk history. It really helped me have a better understanding of MLK, the movement, and his murder.

A fiction tribute to Dr. King. 

This was a wonderful non-fiction, insightful, to a situation that is close to home. Education. 

Written in verse, and just a terrific read. 

It's been a couple of years since reading this, still makes the list! 


If you don't know where to begin, start here. A collection of 14 diverse short stories.

 
The above two books are about journeys away from home (Hispanic focused)

I LOVED these two books! Malala is an inspirational young lady and Refugee follows the stories of 3 teenagers and their journeys during war and dictatorship. 

I know I didn't really say much or give a clear synopsis of the above books.  Awesome, wonderful, terrific, can't put down, page turner, call to action, are all words I would use to describe them. These books really shaped me. If you are looking for something a little more adult, without doubt, please check out Just Mercy (also a movie!). 

And if you are looking for some more kid friendly selections, this list would be a great place to start: https://www.sittercity.com/parents/childrens-books-to-educate-about-racism?fbclid=IwAR0kRaas4SAHMroroGsJB-KXwvewyo0XiyQ3a6-K7ZSgAf3rTQr_DophL_k

These books are stories. Some true, some from imagination. But they represent truth. 

Our (the world even) narrative must change. Our hearts must change. Pick up a book. If reading a diverse book is the only thing you change this year, well it's a start. Thank you. 

Then. 
Talk to people.
Ask Questions. 
AND
LISTEN.
Smile at people. 

We all have a story. 

I tried Chalking

When we moved our family back "home" after a short 11 months in a different state, we had purchased a massive chalkboard. Which was great, we had some big surfaces in our dinning room that could use it. 

I wanted to use it as a creative outlet, a place to express monthly celebrations. So here are some of my designs, the images are iffy... my walls are gray.  But I am learning. I am having fun. I am creating. 

I tried viewing good cop videos

If you have been on facebook lately you will be experiencing what is called tension. Racial tension. Political tension. Freedom tension. 

There are lots of things flooding social media. Government corruption, systematic oppression, democrat vs republic, left vs right, black lives or all lives. It is a lot to take in. Protest, peaceful turned riot. Peaceful, disturbed by a "force". 

When social media starts saturating my feed with conflicting views, I start asking more questions. 

Lately the thing that has been plaguing my mind is why the need to share good cop videos or pictures like: 

photo credit: https://images.app.goo.gl/w26iJeuSM9mvYpPg8

Why are we celebrating something that should be given? You celebrate surprises and miracles and accomplishments. Celebrating good cops... well, is that a miracle or an accomplishment? Or is that them doing what they are supposed to do, their job? 

Do doctors have videos every time they make the correct diagnoses? It's worth celebrating. 
Do teacher get a shout out for every kid that makes a light bulb discovery? It's also worth celebrating.

Doesn't the world just become better from people doing good? Shouldn't these cops be good on and off the camera? It's almost like a participation trophy... or is that just me?

There are good people who don't wear a uniform who do the same things; sit with people, play with kids, help each other.  Because good people make the world a better place.

Are we trying too hard to cover up the fact that we need to change a deep rooted corrupted system?

I am not condoning those who are starting riots and targeting cops. Please do not hear that I am in favor of violence. I am just questioning the motives and the push. By posting so many good cop videos and pictures, to me, is covering up and siding with the injustice of the matter. Hiding the truth.

I am thankful for good cops and systems that strive for justice. I am not trying to condemn those who want to share joy and happiness, I too, like to see the good nature of people. BUT in the moment, with the tension, is this the proper time to celebrate? 

Romans 12:9-21 is my absolute favorite. Just going to leave that right there. 

I tried to hide from the brokeness

Y'all. I am so tired. You know that feeling, where you look back at your day and see very little fruit but yet feel like you have gone non stop. That feeling, well, I am over it.

The other day I had the rare moment where the house was empty. My husband and brother-in-law were at work. My mom took the boys for and adventure. Alone. I honestly don't know the last time I have been truly alone. I had big plans to read (you are jealous of this life, I know).

But I couldn't focus on the pages of my book.

I wept. Just cried. I didn't even try to journal or anything. I texted a couple of friends asking for prayer (thank you). But I was just E.M.P.T.Y

Here's the deal - I don't feel like I have a voice.
Or the voice I have, isn't being heard.
Jealous of those who say the same thing, but have a name that travels.
A voice that isn't heard thanks to Facebook algorithms manipulating my voice to be apart of some formula for their own pleasure.
My voice, being muffled by squeaker wheels.

But who's listening? Does it matter?

I am motivated by truth and knowledge.
     Loyalty and love (favoring the underdog).
If you wish to push my buttons,
      simply land on hypocrisy and injustice.

Injustice, racism, cults, porn, sex-trafficking,
     all our words spoken this week.
Words from stories from my family, friends,
     and former students.

George Floyd
Ward Family
"R" - baby girl
Gideon

The names of those hurting.
     Broken by society, curiosity, and the world
Families that are grieving, weeping
     and asking to be heard.

I am asking for you all to listen
     to each other. Talk less.
I am asking we open homes, hearts, and minds
     sharing stories and listen.

People want to be heard.
     Wait. 

They will speak. Or listen differently to hear.
      I'm okay even though I am broken.

I. Miss. My. Students.

I miss MY students.
      My Kids.

I miss their laughter.
      Their smiles.

I miss their goofy questions.
       The serious ones too.

I miss their sarcasm and wit;
       Keeping the banter up.

I miss the moments they ask to talk to me.
       I miss listening.

I miss the 'lightbulb' moments, when it clicks and come together.
     I miss watching them try.

I miss the 'good morning Jones!'
     Seeing their excitement for the day.

I miss conversations about life;
      I miss their chess games, tik toks, guitar strings, books and drawings
      I miss hearing about track, FFA, graduation, dances, sports, pets, friends and family.

I miss encouraging a new generation,
     I miss their surprises.

I miss the path I was created for,
     I miss the reassurance.

I miss my coworkers, who are turning into friends.
      I miss friends.

I even miss....
      The absent parents
      The tough phone calls
      The non-motivated kid
      The kid asleep in class
      The cellphone being placed on my desk.... again
      The talks about not punching walls
      The conversations on proper hygiene
      The concerned counselor chats
      The student asking for a snack, for they are hungry
      The student out in the hall waiting for me.... because that's the safest place

I miss it all.
     I miss my kids.

I miss the good and the bad.
     I miss my kids.

Empty Classrooms = Empty Hearts