I’m Blaming the Aliens

Posted on by stilllearning2b

 

I woke up this morning, on my last official day of spring break, to more cold rain and an empty Kindle battery. I was feeling lazy and wanted to enjoy my coffee, so I clicked on the TV. Surprisingly, there is a dearth of programming at 5:00 a.m. on a Friday morning. As I scrolled through my options, I found myself drawn to Super Nanny, a show where struggling parents call on a professional nanny for help and advice.

In this particular episode, a newly divorced mom was having a very difficult time with her six (!!!) children. Her face radiated pain and fear as she revealed the events of the past 18 months: divorce, the death of the family nanny and the loss of the home to foreclosure. I felt tears start to slide down my face as I watched.

I’ve never been much of a crier (well, since I outgrew my temper tantrum stage). I’m not a sucker for sappy movies nor am I drawn to “chick lit.” I’m not hormonal and I don’t have a biological clock ticking (I knew from my late teens that I didn’t want kids and I’ve never wavered in that decision).

So, why the tears? Although I could not relate to the challenges of raising six kids as a single parent (much respect!), I could relate to the series of losses that the family faced. But understanding and empathy is one thing and tears in my coffee is another.

The truth is that, since my divorce, tears come easily. I have become the person that cries from commercials or greeting cards. I am now that woman whose eyes well up when watching a family at the park or a passage in a book.

I’m sure it has something to do with my acceptance of my vulnerability and my willingness to let go of the strong facade I wear so well.

But I’m blaming the aliens.

From the Fugue

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I’m just now rejoining the land of the living. I was among the zombies for the past couple days. No, not in a fun way like when Brock and I were extras in a movie about the walking dead, but in a ‘my body has been taken over by pathogens’ kind of way. Not so fun. Especially because it’s my spring break. I’m trying to resist the urge to pout and stomp my feet.  It helps that pouting and stomping requires more energy than I currently possess.

We usually try to go camping each spring break, but Brock’s work schedule did not allow for this year (again, not pouting or stomping). I realized a few years ago that it is very important for me to get out of town for a least a couple days each spring break. If I don’t, I find myself getting grumpy upon hearing the stories of lavish vacations when school resumes. I don’t need the long or elaborate trips (okay, want maybe, but not need), just a short jaunt to a new location with a new (or no) routine.

This year, I decided to go to Asheville and stay at Peaceful Quest Retreats, which is owned by a fellow blogger:) It was a great decision. I love Asheville and I haven’t been in many years (with my ex). I enjoyed puttering around the shops, watching the crowds, eating an awesome veggie bowl at Laughing Seed Cafe and touring the art museum.

basketballs as grapes? love you, Asheville:)
basketballs as grapes? love you, Asheville:)

I forgot about my increasing headache as soon as I pulled into the parking spot at Peaceful Quest Retreats. The name is apt; the setting is absolutely magical. And the company that evening was too:) It was a great night and I was looking forward to more.

don't you just want to sit in those chairs?
don’t you just want to sit in those chairs?

Unfortunately, my resident pathogens had other plans. I awoke the next morning with a sore throat and body aches. I pretended they didn’t didn’t exist long enough to tour the property and visit the arboretum. The latter was one of the nicest I have ever seen and I really want to see both in the summer when all of the trees have leafed out.

I think he's asking for the leaves to appear!
I think he’s asking for the leaves to appear!

I then made the difficult decision to cut my visit short so that I could drive before my fever took full hold and so that I could get to the doctor first thing Monday morning. Sigh. Stupid bacteria.

But I’m not pouting or stomping.

I had a great (although waaay too short) trip. I met new friends and saw new sights. I slept for 18 hours and saw some very bad TV which reminded me why I prefer books. The antibiotics are working and I am slowly winning the war against the invading hordes.  I took advantage of my low energy today to tackle my tedious to-do list for spring break (including finally updating my blog’s look!). I hope that there is an overlap of good weather and wellness over the next few days so that I can get outside and enjoy the hikes and the gardens that I adore. But, even if that is not to be, I’m not pouting or stomping because I still have these precious days to slow down and take a breath. And that’s worth a smile.

Sleeping With the Anemone

Posted on by stilllearning2b

 

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I love teaching on a big-picture basis. I like nothing more than seeing the lightbulbs as students master a new concept. I love the challenge of devising new ways to present complicated information. I thrive on the messages from former students that they now understand and enjoy math. I enjoy “adopting” 120 new personalities every year and watching them grow and change throughout the year. Once they have been in my classroom, they will always be one of “my kids,” even after they have kids of their own (yes, I have been teaching that long!).

I love teaching on a big-picture basis, but I can have a tendency to get bogged down in the details of low pay, never-ending meetings and ever-changing legislation. This is never more true than in the spring, as we gear up for the standardized testing season. My eyes and brain blur as I analyze data and compile reports. My energy wans just as the students become ever more excited for spring break and the elusive call of summer vacation. By March, students and teachers can grow cranky with each other, much like a family at the end of a long road trip. Are we there yet?

Sometimes I can forget the big picture.

And, sometimes, a magical moment brings it all into focus again. This weekend was filled with those moments.

I chaperoned an overnight field trip with 200 7th graders to the Georgia Aquarium, billed as the world’s largest.

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The luggage of 200 teenagers!

We arrived at the aquarium Friday afternoon, just as the last of the general public was making their way to the exits. The aquarium atrium, which I had never seen without shoulder to shoulder crowds, stood empty and quiet.

Kinda feel like Night at the Museum! Luckily, all the life was safely behind glass:)
Kinda feel like Night at the Museum! Luckily, all the life was safely behind glass:)

As we were led by our guides on a behind the scenes tour, I watched the students’ faces. Seeing their excitement and curiosity was infectious.

The "wave maker" from the top of one of the tanks
The “wave maker” from the top of one of the tanks
The world's largest tank from above. You can see one of the whale sharks at the front of the picture.
The world’s largest tank from above. You can see one of the whale sharks at the front of the picture.
I love jellyfish, but only from a safe distance!
I love jellyfish, but only from a safe distance!

By 11:00 (waaay past my bedtime1), the girls and female chaperones made our way to the large tank viewing area to bed down for the night.

This was the view from my sleeping bag.
This was the view from my sleeping bag.

I found myself sleeping much like I imagine new parents do – listening for trouble and staying constantly on alert. Every time I do an overnight trip with students, I have much more respect for the huge responsibility carried by parents.

This trip, with its learning and exploration unencumbered by paperwork and testing, reminded me of the big picture. I teach because I love the enthusiasm and inquisitiveness that fuels learning. I teach because I want every child to reach their potential. I teach because I don’t want a lack of knowledge to ever hold someone back from their dreams. I teach to share my passions with the hope that my students will pass it on.

And sleeping with the fishes is pretty cool too:)

I'm used to sleeping with a pit bull, so a whale shark isn't too strange!
I’m used to sleeping with a pit bull, so a whale shark isn’t too strange!

Recalculating

Posted on by stilllearning2b

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Early April of 2010 was a strange time for me. My divorce had been finalized a few weeks before, I had given notice at my current school that I would not be returning the following year, I had just started falling for Brock and I was planning on moving to Seattle in June. I should have been in a panic.  The life I was living had an expiration date. I didn’t know how I would make money or where I was going to live come June. I should have been scared of the unknown, especially since I am a planner by nature. Surprisingly, I was only slightly uncomfortable with the amorphous nature of my future. I think I was so relieved to have survived the divorce that I felt like I could accomplish anything.

I had been applying to school jobs online in the Seattle area, but I needed to visit the city in person to complete the background check needed to get my teaching certification in Washington. My friend and coworker, Carissa, was in a similar situation. She was ready to leave Georgia and wanted to move to the NW to go to graduate school. Like me, she had vague plans but nothing solidified. We decided to move against the spring break migratory patterns and visit Seattle that April. We planned on a combination of sightseeing and job hunting/ school searching while we stayed with my dad and his wife.

We rented a car and plugged in my GPS, which I packed since I had only been to Seattle once as adult (I was visiting Seattle the previous summer when I received the text that my husband had left). Now, if you are familiar with Seattle, you know there is an area through downtown where the interstate splits into 17 levels (okay, so maybe it’s more like 3, but it feels like 17). As Carissa and I were traversing that area in order to get from the airport to my dad’s house, the GPS instructed us to take a left turn from the top level where there was no place to turn. We ignored its command since we hadn’t taken out the extra rental insurance. A few moments later, the device announced, in a voice that sounded like a robot raised in Australia, “Recalculating.”

It became a common utterance of the GPS over the next week as we traveled around unknown areas. We laughed every time we heard that word and it became the theme of our week. I’m not sure if it was due to the excessive cloud cover in Seattle in the spring, our wrong turns, or divine providence, but I have never heard my GPS recalculate so much before or since. Carissa and I never became annoyed at the machine, we actually laughed harder each time it needed to recalculate. It wasn’t worth getting upset about. We trusted the GPS to get us there even if it took a different path than expected.

It was fitting, as Carissa and I were both recalculating ourselves during that trip. We went into the week with grand plans of interviews (for both) and university tours (for her). The reality? We went whale watching, took the underground tour, did the wineries, saw Vagina Monologues, listened to live music, visited the Pike St. market and hiked the foothills of the Cascades (every trip peppered with “recalculating”. We only made one future-related stop and that was to submit the fingerprints and other information for the background check in order to teach in Washington. Now, Carissa really wanted to take a break from teaching and become a full-time student. She was only applying as a back-up. Me? I had no desire to go back to school; I was applying to be able to bring in a paycheck.

Except I made the decision at the last minute not to complete the process.

My entire life, I have played it safe. I have always been conservative with career choices and money. I only took very calculated risks and generally only when I was okay regardless of the outcome. I’ve never been impulsive. I’m not one to fly by the seat of my pants. I am a planner to the nth degree. I find comfort and security in lists and spreadsheets.

But that week, I recalculated. I made the decision to put aside the plans (and, yes, spreadsheets) of the previous 8 months. I decided to shelve my preparations for a move to Seattle. I still don’t really know why I did it and I still can’t believe that I did. I chose to follow my instinct that spring rather than approach the situation more rationally. So, after traveling 3000 miles from Atlanta to look for employment in the NW, I started looking for Georgia jobs while seated on my father’s couch. Nuts? Absolutely. But, strangely, I felt calm about the decision.

Within a few weeks, I had a job in Atlanta lined up for the fall and I located an apartment. It’s a decision that I’ve never regretted but I still can’t fully understand. Yes, I had started seeing Brock, but that relationship was very young and we had no idea that it was going to persist. Honestly, at that time, I would have said that my need to escape from the memories of Atlanta was stronger than my feelings for Brock. So, why did I stay? What was it in that moment that allowed me to trust the GPS of my gut rather than the itinerary mapped out in my brain? I don’t know but I’m glad I listened.

It’s easy for us to try to fully plan our route through life. But sometimes, our vision becomes clouded or we make a wrong turn or divine providence intervenes and we have to recalculate. Sometimes we get upset when that happens. We want to get back on the planned route and continue the planned journey. We might get irritated at having our preparations interrupted.Yet, we never really know where a path will lead. Every journey has an element of faith. Sometimes we simply have to trust that a decision is the right one for us in the moment.

As a planner, I struggle with staying calm when things unexpectedly change. But now, when they do, I think back to that spring, Carissa and I laughing in the car, and my instinct leading me the right way. There’s nothing wrong with recalculating. Even if you traveled a long way to do it.

Now, if I could only go whale watching in Atlanta:)