SoL Challenge Day #13

The five things I would share with guests at Leigh Anne's Favorites Party -


1. Aroma's dark roast coffee and vanilla creamer. I miss living near Omaha for a few reasons. The zoo, the bookstores, Ted & Wally's. Mostly though, I miss Aroma's coffee and baked goods. Nothing makes me feel quite as settled and ready to write as the smell of freshly brewed coffee and caffeine setting sail in my veins. 

2. Books of poems. Poems have always been the best writing prompts for me. I love being able to look at the language and ideas woven together in ways I would have never considered. 

3. Huck, or any dog really. This is my puppy nephew, and I have spent a good portion of spring break determining the pros and cons of getting my own pup. There is so much joy in this little guy's heart. It's infectious, and it is impossible to not feel more childlike and joyful with him around. 

4. Dark chocolate, especially the kind with sea salt in it. Mmm. 

5. A brand new Moleskine. Most of mine have been given as gifts. There is something that feels so academic and collegiate to me about writing in one.

SoL Challenge Day #12

There is something so lovely about a deck covered in snow.

Netflix documentaries playing one after another.

Coffee, scrambled eggs, biscuits, and homemade jam.

Pinterest on one screen in search of healthier food options for tomorrow.

Student drafts on the other screen, 

slowly making headway. 

It's hard to focus with this goober next to me. 

SoL Challenge Day #11

Whittlespeak

I am twenty-five years old and still stumbling over
the mudwasps working something furious in my throat,
trying to form fists that are both heavy and light
enough to fit around their straight shooter smiles.

I haven’t quite gotten a handle on it all yet. 

But I can weave whittlespeak timbre
over sun-spilled porches,
stitch leftover lines into novelties,
and bend the sky beneath
all of the whitespace I’ve
ever written into existence.

My fists will never stop buzzing banjos,
and my voice will never stop searching
for any shape of consistency.

SoL Challenge Day #10

Spring break is here. Big exhale. 

On my drive home today I started to think to the last chunk of the year, and what I can do over my week away to make the remainder of the year more enjoyable for myself and my students. I'm sure I will add to this as the week progresses, but this is a start:

1. Eat lunch, for goodness sake. A real one.

My stomach rumbled at me as I walked out of school. I had packed yogurt and an apple for the third day in a row. A handful of students had stayed after school in my classroom today to watch spoken word poetry, and I could not focus or keep a conversation going at all. I need to fuel my body with real food every single day. 

2. Stagger due dates for longer pieces of writing. 

There was a stretch of two weeks last month where I gave feedback until 10:00 every single night. I felt grouchy and sleepy when I woke up, which was only moderately cured by my second cup of coffee.

3. Carve out time to work out.

I am a happier and more energetic human when I've spent time running the trails or treadmill. The past few weeks I have not prioritized this.

4. Trust yourself to change the plan.

Some of the best lessons I've taught this year happened when I felt comfortable enough to shift away from the original plan. I'm getting better at reading the room and adjusting, and I need to trust myself more with this.

5. Spend more time with colleagues.

I work with pretty awesome people, and I want to actually get to know them past brief hallway exchanges. This one will be easy if I treat it as a daily goal instead of a long-term goal.

Tonight though, my only goal is to sleep for eight hours and have a glass of wine. Yay!

SoL Challenge Day #9

"On the first day of school, you are their teacher. Not me. This classroom is yours. Not mine. I hope I'm not scaring you too much."

I sat in Denise's classroom, tugging at the hem of my "teacher dress" and tried to look calm and receptive. I immediately appreciated her personality. She was loud, which meant I didn't have to be. She was also direct, which meant I could ask her questions and expect an honest answer. However, her proclamation of my place in the classroom sent my introvert sirens blazing.

Two days later I started student teaching. My voice shook as I read straight from the syllabus I had poured hours into. Fish-eyed freshmen tugged at and adjusted their own outfits, their eyes darting from the clock to one another.

Oof. This was brutal. Everything felt forced. Everything felt mechanical.

With my mentor teacher out of the room, she had given me space to work through this. With each week, my robotic movements became more fluid and my flat lined voice warmed. I learned their names and they learned my expectations.

The weeks went by, and Denise encouraged and comforted me as I navigated the sort of classroom experiences that can truly only be experienced to understand. She was honest, and in her honesty I was able to reflect and grow.

I know I owe her another letter soon, and that this doesn't even begin to break ice on the foundation she helped me set, but I carry our conversations with me and think about them often.

She reminds me that when I feel my fear of failure begin to bubble up, that it when it is most important to throw myself into whatever endeavor holds promise for growth.

SoL Challenge Day #8

My creative writing class was a scene from a horror film today.

Actually, several scenes. My students started writing short stories this week, and while they were given many different directions to potentially take their pieces, many of them chose the horror genre.

I was tentative about this at first. This is not a genre I am well-versed in, and I am studying each night to come prepared with valuable advice for them.

I met with several students individually today to conference about their pieces, and as each story was outlined, a bank of memory unhinged in my brain. The first student's piece reminded me of the suicide forest in Japan that I'd read about in a Buzzfeed article a few years back. The second piece brought back memories of watching news reports on the Elizabeth Smart case. The third piece echoed local lore of the Council Bluffs Black Angel.

My students dove into these real life examples of their own stories. They were reading articles out of their own volition. Several had found interviews with victims of strange and horrible crimes.

More than anything though, I finally saw a spark move through the room.

Sections of writing were being shared without prompting.

Voices had a sense of urgency and ownership.

I moved from raised hand to raised hand feeling energized and excited to listen and guide.

As they filed out of the room at the end of the period, I turned to one of my students and said, "That is what writing can feel like."

She grinned and said, "I think I am actually going to work on it tonight!"

My heart grew two sizes. This. This is what teaching can feel like.

SoL Challenge Day #7

For those days that my brain is a pile of mush, but I still try to make conversation with the people I love after work.

Flashlights

You keep sneaking flashlights 

into the crooks of my shoulders,

watching the shadows dance as
I try to regale the events of my day.

And I know we're in the habit of trading
lights for postcard phrases
but today my thoughts are dice that keep
landing in the corners of my voice.

You smile and slip two more lights around my waist,
kiss my nose

and forgive me,
saying some days you run out of yourself too.