The Adventure Led Me Here

When I was in middle school, a librarian jokingly referred to me as the one who was “clogging up the library system” because of the massive amounts of books I checked out at once. I quickly became adept in figuring out the delicate balancing act of opening doors and walking across a parking while gripping a teetering pile of books. Many of my journals from elementary school are simply filled with lists of books that I enjoyed/letters I had written to fictional characters. Not only do I drink as much coffee as the Gilmore Girls, I also read like Rory. To this day, I still feel a shiver of anticipation when I glide through the library’s revolving doors and receive a new Scholastic book order. In my classroom, we read frequently. We adore soaking in beautiful words, talking about the characters or concepts, and making connections (kindergarteners LOVE making text-to-self connections!). One of my favorite things about reading aloud is that we not only develop a love for stories an

I was at the Dollar Tree on a Sunday afternoon buying the random assortment of items that can only be found in a teacher’s cart. These items included plastic salad tongs, stickers, cupcake liners, muffin tins, and clothespins. The line inched towards the back of the store, and there was a general grumble of impatience. The interactions customers had with the cashier were varied. Some people shoved their money at her, obviously in a hurry. Others responded with pleasantries and conversation. Exhaustion crept across the cashier’s face as she rapidly rang up purchases for a few customers who berated her for the length of the line. When it was the next customer’s turn, she greeted her with the automatic question, “How are you doing?” The customer smiled and responded with the expected answer of, “I’m doing well, thanks.” She stopped and returned the smile, telling her that her reply and smile were just what she needed on this chaotic afternoon. That simple exchange stu

The moments leading up the arrival of the campers is similar to the anticipation of waiting for Christmas morning. Excited chatter echoes as the yellow bus is spotted chugging along the dusty road. Welcome signs, each with the campers’ individual names, are waved in the air. As the bus doors open, the campers are called, one by one, each one receiving a cheer before running to his or her counselor.  Each counselor is responsible for one or two campers, allowing for attention that so many of these kiddos desperately crave. Royal Family Kids’ Camp is a week long experience nationwide for kids who are or have been a part of the foster care system. Activities abound from crawfish catching, fishing, swimming, boating, the gym (where I stealthily caught a Frisbee with my face), chapel, horseback riding, crafts, and more. My camper and I spent a lot of time the dress up area, putting on fashion shows and dressing up in princess gowns and tiaras for hours. One of the things my c

As I watched the yellow buses scuttle away for this last time this school year, I tried to pinpoint exactly what emotions I was feeling as my thoughts clouded together, gently blurring. While packing up my classroom, I sorted through piles of math games, books, and writing materials. So much growth and learning had occurred throughout the school year from multiplication and division to writing a full length essay. I had covered all of the standards and all assessments had been completed. These packed boxes, brimming with papers and books, however, did not present a whole, complete picture of what had been gained. Although I (hopefully!) taught my students many things, nothing in these boxes reflected what I, the teacher, had learned from a group of 24 third-graders. 1). Kindness I entered my classroom with the expectation to focus on cultivating a culture of kindness within the classroom. However, little did I realize that I myself would be learning so much about being kind from

                Silence and I have never been the best of friends.                 In the hypothetical event that the ability to incessantly ramble was an Olympic sport, I would win all of the gold medals in one unnecessarily long speech.                 I process information verbally, and I usually speak two volume levels above what is probably needed. If you’ve ever had the *privilege* of grocery shopping with me, you know that I provide an enthusiastic running commentary about each and every food item. In an effort to prove to someone that I could be quiet for an extended period of time, I tried to go as long as possible without talking.                 It was an agonizing ten minutes.                 I love conversations, connecting, the sharing of ideas. Growing up in a loud, boisterous family, there was always somebody singing, yodeling, supplying random animal noises, or chattering at any given moment. Silence or the absence of noise, was strange, uncomfortable, and sti

                2015 was like eating a bag of mystery flavored Skittles: I never quite knew what was going to happen next.                 An enigma, a paradox, 2015 was full of many moments both wonderful and challenging.                 It was a year of connection, a year of growth.                 The first few months passed in a flurry as I finished up grad school and my student teaching. I had the opportunity to complete one of the most meaningful projects of my educational experience that examined equity in the education system for CLD (Culturally and Linguistically Diverse) students. During my student teaching, I had the chance to learn from some amazing teachers not just about education, but also about life.                 Two particular conversations are etched in my mind. The first one occurred when I was asking a teacher how he would handle a situation that had just occurred in the classroom. His immediate response was, “The first thing I always remind myself when