The Stapler lives!

Remember when I posted about my industrial strength staplers about three years ago? Mentioned in this post? A few friends said it was one of their favorites. So I thought I'd reshare the story for those who want a laugh. Because I know I need one these days. And let you all know, the staplers still live! In fact, they made a stapler shooter appearance just today. They still have the power and the force. And even better, I no longer shoot myself in the finger!

My Students

To make up for missing graduation, I held a barbecue for some of my seniors. I had to show them off as we had one last big fling before they move on to new stages of their lives.

Easton hanging out with the ladies (they are all so beautiful!)
















The boys trying oh so hard to be cool (or is that me trying to be cool?)
















A bunch of the crew. Man, I love these kids!

On Being a Teacher

Today my 10th year of teaching came to a close. In the past ten years, I have taught more than a thousand students. It's hard to believe I have been teaching that long. I still feel like I am a young 22 year old teacher just starting out. Instead I am an old veteran, no longer wearing rose colored glasses. The past ten years have been a fun and sometimes wild ride. Some years have been challenging, bringing struggles at every turn. Other years have been absolutely wonderful, bringing me joy. Most years are a combination of each.

Teaching is more than a job to me. Each year, over one hundred students enter my classroom. Some will delight me, some will annoy me, and some will challenge me. But each year, those children become like family to me. Each year, some students will ask me if I will miss them, while others will ask me if I will be glad they are gone. The truth is, I always miss my students. That last day of school each year is bitter sweet. While I am glad the year is over for many reasons (a big one that I get to be a mom full time for a few months), I am so sad my students are moving on. Students don't realize the way many teachers see their students. When those kids enter my classroom, they become mine. They become my students and I care about them deeply. Not only do I care about their academic success, but I care about them individually. I worry about them through the year. That doesn't stop when they leave my classroom. They take a piece of me with them when they leave.

It's true. My students really take a piece of me with them when they leave. I often find myself wondering how they are doing, what they are doing, how life is treating them. One of my greatest joys is when I run into a former student and they run up and say hi, ask about me, and tell me about their lives. I get sad when a former student acts like they don't know or remember me, because usually, I remember them.

Today I said goodbye to one of my favorite classes of eighth grade. Out of the ten classes I have taught, this group rates up among my top three favorite classes ever. Tonight, my favorite group of students ever graduated from high school. Out of that top three, this group rates #1.

The graduating group came to me 5 years ago. I didn't yet have children, but I had finally found some peace in my infertility. I had the peace that some how, some day, I would have kids. In the meantime, while I waited, I threw myself into teaching. This group of students came in and we immediately bonded. I saw so much beauty, promise, and hope in this class. Part way through the year, I noticed these students didn't see the same beauty in themselves. So I did an activity to help them see their own beauty. And that activity bonded us like no other. From then on, these students were my children and I was their adopted mom.

Our closeness didn't end at the end of that year. Many were student aides for me the next year. Many come to my house or my classroom to visit. It's not unusual, especially in the summer, for a group of them to show up at my door with a pizza, raid my fridge for drinks, and sit around and chat for awhile. They showed up just last week, wanting one last reunion before they graduated. They have played many, many pranks on me over the years. I've tried to get them back, but they always win.

Tonight they graduated. I wanted more than anything to be there with them. I planned and planned on being there. And then Mark had to work tonight. And then Easton got sick. And it rained (ceremony is supposed to be outside). And Camden is a 3 year old who doesn't sit well. And the graduation is during dinner time. With all those things combining, I knew it would be patently unfair to my children to drag them to the graduation with all those factors in play. I am so sad I cannot be there tonight. I have been torn all night, rethinking the decision to stay home, and coming to the conclusion again that it is best for my children to stay home.

I am so sad to see these students leave - both the group from this year and my graduating seniors. Our school does a fun tradition every year when the students leave. The teachers and staff get the noisiest things we can find. This year it was bull horns, whistles, and clapping hands. We get out there with our noise makers and make as much noise as we can while the students load on the buses. Then, before the buses leave, all the bus drivers lay on their horns and don't let go. You have more than 20 buses with horns blaring and an entire junior high staff making tons of noise. It's a huge, raucous, fun time. Then one by one, the buses pull out. Each year this tradition brings me so much joy because it's such a fun send off. But each year I find myself with tears in my eyes as another group of students leave. This year, tears rolled down my face. I am losing two of my favorite classes ever. While I am so excited for them and their futures, I am so sad to see them go.

My hope is the future will be kind to them. May they find joy and peace in the journey of their lives. May they carry the knowledge that this teacher, this one person, will always love and care about them. May they always find a soft place to land.

For my students of this year, carry on your educational journey. Make wise choices. Live life to the fullest.

To my graduating students - Kyle (Matt), Jeff, Megan, Britli, Brittany, Justin, and too many others to name - you carry my heart with you. I love you as much as I do my own kids. Don't forget to invite me to all those mission farewells, weddings, baby showers, and everything else. Life gets harder as an adult, but so much more rewarding. I hope you find more happiness and joy than you can ever imagine.

It's back to school for me!

And not just to my classroom to teach. I am actually going back to school as a student again. Although I have been teaching English for nine years and have a minor in it, I am not considered highly qualified under the No Child Left Behind act. So I am taking a few more college courses in English to get a major equivalent in English (which will get me highly qualified). After that, I plan on taking a few more classes to have a double major on paper.

Even though I teach English, I've been a bit nervous about taking a class. I haven't played the role of a student in quite a while. I'm not used to writing papers, taking tests, studying, reading assigned material. I'm used to having students do that for me! It will be an adventure.

As I went to sign up for my first class, I had a list of three choices. I need classes that work with Mark's school schedule, my work, and Camden, so my list consisted of three online classes. I told Mark I would really like the first two choices, but that I was really hoping the third class wouldn't happen since it is British literature and I'm not super fond of that. As luck would have it, guess which class is the only one I could take? Yup, British lit. And it got better from there. I then told Mark that I could handle it as long as it wasn't lit from the Middle Ages. Later that night, I looked up my book for the class. Guess what? Yup, it was British lit from the Middle Ages. My worst English nightmare.

Luckily, after looking around and playing with it, I found a class that was a little better. It's still British lit, but the more modern kind. I'm jumping in with both feet this week. Anybody out there a lover of British lit? I may be coming to you for help.

Do I really look that old?

Apparently I must look really old. As you may remember, I teach junior high. And I just recently turned 31. So today a mother comes it to talk to me about her son's grade. As we're talking, my computer screen saver comes on. Of course my screen saver is pictures of Camden so I can see his cute face all day long. The mother looks at the screen saver and then says to me, "Is that your grandson?"

What the freak? Do I really look that old? I think I need to start saving for some plastic surgery so I don't look so ancient!