SoL Challenge Day #31

It's the last day!

I'm excited that I managed to write every single day, and I'm hoping that I can keep up the habit in the coming months.

For my final day, I wanted to share a moment that is still echoing inside of me.

My creative writing students spent a great deal of time this past week reading and listening to poetry. We looked at different poetic elements and forms, but mostly, we responded to how the poetry impacted or didn't impacted us. 

I created a Sweet 16 Poetry Bracket on one of my walls, and the students searched for poems that they felt belonged on that bracket. 

Today we listened to first two contending poems: "OCD" by Neil Hilborn and "I'm Sorry" by FreeQuency. One, obviously, deals with OCD. The other deal with the way our society speaks about rape. Both poems are intense, and both poems have the power to make an audience uncomfortable.

After having the students respond to the poem in writing, I took a seat on my stool in the front of the room and asked them to listen carefully to me.

"Raw and incredible writing is not always appropriate for the general classroom. It requires a great deal of respect, reflection, and maturity. With that said, my classroom should not be a place that crosses your personal boundaries. If you feel the poems we read today cross your personal boundaries, I will redraw mine for this classroom. Send me an email or talk to me after class if topics like this are too much for you."

I went on for a few more minutes, but then asked them to share their responses to either of the poems with their table partners. 

I noticed one boy, who is usually rather outspoken, silent and staring blankly at his paper. 

I pulled him aside as students filed out for their next class.

"Was that second video too much for you? I do not want you to feel uncomfortable in here."

"Not at all. It's just... it's sobering. I'd never really thought about it. I just didn't know what to say."

Sobering. Poetry can be sobering.

In that moment, I was reminded of my own high school self discovering poetry that angled my view of the world. Anis Mojgani. Buddy Wakefield. George Watsky. Sarah Kay.

Sometimes the lines need time to turn and settle in us.

The words need us to be patient. To wait. To let them linger and echo in us as we grow.

My heart aches. This is why I write. This is why I read. This is why I teach.

SoL Challenge Day #30

Subjective grading
gives me much anxiety.
I wait for complaints.

In addition to getting better at staggering due dates for my own grading sanity, I realized today that this foresight has other benefits.

I crumble a bit inside when students don't feel I've graded them fairly. I go through the rubric with them. I give feedback on drafts. We look at enough examples to understand the product without stifling their creativity. Their final grade is explained. Yet, it seems, with each assignment there are one or two students who don't feel they were graded fairly.

I handed back two larger writing assignments today. After watching one student crumble up his paper without reading the comments and another mutter anger under her breath, I felt entirely deflated.

So much time put into each assignment.

My willingness to discuss any grades after class was not taken up on, and I fought frustration with my students and myself the entire way home.

Tonight I will work through another rubric and try to eliminate as much potential for subjectivity as I can.

Tomorrow, I will try again.

SoL Challenge Day #29

The first time a student had a panic attack in my classroom, I was a student teacher.

It was the second day of class, and I noticed her as my mentor teacher was handing out papers.

She had bustled in a few moments after the bell rang, quickly dropped her stuff and tears immediately sprang from her eyes. I walked over to her and asked her if she wanted to go to the hallway. She readily agreed and followed me out.

Once in the hallway, we just sat there. After a few minutes of breathing, she explained that she'd fallen on the arm that she would soon have surgery on. Panic ensued, but eventually subsided.

It happened to me for the second time yesterday.

She was the last speaker of the day, and the class waited patiently for her to come in from practicing in the hallway.

One minute passed.

Two minutes.

Three.

To the hallway I went.

I propped open the door to a study room outside of my classroom, and she was heaving with sobs.

Oh man.

Cue camp counselor mode.

"Can you sit on the ground with me?"

She nodded.

"Okay. I want you to breathe in when I do. I'll count for you. One...two....three. Let it out."

Several jagged breaths escape.

I smiled. "One more time."

Her breathing evened.

In the few minutes before the bell we discussed her speech, her nerves, and I told her all of my favorite dad jokes I'd heard on Jimmy Fallon the night before. She left, seemingly calm, with her best friend on her arm.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Everything will be fine.

SoL Challenge Day #28

Things I've noticed since beginning this challenge:

1. It is so challenging to write substantively for myself when I am giving tons of feedback on student writing. It's like my brain is rationing my ability to put words onto a page.

2. Writing through difficult days has made me better at navigating them as they are happening so there isn't quite so much emotional aftermath. I try to be a reflective thinker in general, but writing through the mess requires more from me, and gives me more in return.

3. I miss getting the amount of feedback on my writing that I did in college, but this process has encouraged me to start submitting my work to different places.

My brain is mush. There are more papers to respond to, but I am happy to do it. 

SoL Challenge day #27

Today's golden moments:

• Introducing a poetry unit to my creative writing class. I hesitate to say unit because I try to incorporate poetry into everything, but the "official" introduction could not have gone better.

• I had my last observation of the year today! I think it went well, but I'm also just excited to almost have my full licensure. Woo!

• A student who has been agonizing over her speech for the past week absolutely nailed it today. She received an ovation from her peers, and left beaming with pride. 

I hope you all had a delightful start to your week as well!

SoL Challenge Day #26

Today I crave

whitespace,
dried mangoes,
daisies,
and naps.

It's time for the
crawlspace in my
chest to be emptied
of this heavy winter.

Slice of Life Challenge Day #25

I hear his voice best when I'm driving,

off key proclamations of love and sorrow

one eyebrow cocked 

rearview laughter blurring with the miles.

 

Slice of Life Challenge Day #24

In a few minutes I will be heading to Des Moines to sing and dance to one of my favorite bands with my favorite people. I will be singing The Lumineers the entire way there and back.

My heart is full, but my gas tank is empty.

Enjoy your weekend, folks!

SoL Challenge Day #23

When the internet goes out during the last period of the day, and all the writing the students have done is stored in Google Docs, a quick decision must be made.

After the principal delivered the message, I gave them a choice.

1. You can work on your speech if you do not need the internet.

Or

2. You can read.

Books were quickly retrieved out of backpacks and the classroom noise died down within moments.

My students dove into their adventures for one beautiful and technology free hour.

No internet? No problem.

SoL Challenge Day #22

I had two good moments today for every bad moment yesterday.

My favorite moment came at the end of the day when two students came into my room to waste time between school and practice. 

Both of these girls finished All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven two days ago, and have been anxiously waiting for me to finish as well.

"Have you finished yet?"

"Not yet. I will though. I promise!"

"Well... where are you in it? What can we talk about?"

I thought for a moment. I'm a few chapters in, but I keep flipping back to the epigraph by Ernest Hemingway.

"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places." 

When I looked up, they were giving each other a baffled version of side eye. 

"I didn't see that part."

"Me either. That's actually really cool. Who is Ernest Hemingway?"

Be still, my beating heart.

I listened and prompted as they unpacked his quote and asked Siri a slew of questions about Hemingway.

I drove home smiling, and was reminded of the beauty in this daily writing challenge.

Yesterday was hard. Today was easier. Thank you for lifting me up on the bad days so that I can look forward to the better ones.

SoL Challenge Day #21

Today I am left with more questions than conclusions about this profession.

I felt that film of anxiety that I thought I'd shed over break creep back over me.

It happens when I give students time to write and revise, and neither of those things really happen to the extent that I wish they would.

It happens when the student that I thought I had finally gotten to a good place with in terms of respect rolls her eyes in response to a direction.

It happens when the aide in my classroom whispers that she saw a student snap a photo of me.

I am not just trying to learn how to respond to these moments, but I'm trying to learn how to respond to them in a way that makes sense with who I am as a person.

It is exhausting.

But, when tomorrow arrives, I will have had those experiences.

My teacher reflexes will be one more step toward cat-like.

 

SoL Challenge Day #20

For the past two weeks, my sophomores have been creating speeches about what it means to be a learner versus someone who plays the game of school.

I poured hours into this assignment, and was so excited to see what they would do with it.

While a few students hooked into it, so many students were creating carbon copy speeches of my example.

I was disappointed. We'd read through numerous articles that approached this topic from different angles. I'd created a Flipgrid response where several adults reflected on how the way they interacted with their high school education has impacted their adult life. I gave my own personal testimony, and we reflected in our journals every single day.

So, after giving a great deal of feedback, I tried again with a more straightforward approach.

I took an example paper from last trimester that looked a whole lot like so many of the papers I was seeing.

This group likes to critique, and they're pretty awesome at it.

"This falls flat at the end, like the writer just kind of gave up and repeated himself."

"The arguments feel generic. Actually, it looks kind of like my paper."

Small group conversations focused largely on these two ideas. I explained that while this paper technically meets the requirements of the assignment, the student isn't really taking advantage of this opportunity to reflect and to understand something about themselves. Therefore, it's not all that interesting to read.

Something seemed to shift, and when workshop time started, hands were up calling for my attention. I was worried that students would be asking me to create their papers for them after realizing that what they'd created needed quite a bit of work.

I really shouldn't assume. They keep surprising me. Their questions were direct and specific. They didn't need me to reiterate everything I'd explained minutes before. They were applying, and just needed guidance with specific aspects of their piece.

I am pooped, but pretty excited to see how these pieces of writing develop

.

SoL Challenge Day #19

Spring break is over, and I am sad.

Even though I spent a chunk of each day working on school related tasks, I still feel like I haven't done enough. That I haven't planned lessons that will be exciting enough. That I missed a whole array of things I could have been doing instead of relaxing.

However, I feel relaxed. I feel rested. I feel full from the laughter and conversations I was able to have with family and friends over the past week.

I will work for a while tonight, and try to come to a good place with my work and with myself.

Tomorrow, we start again.

SoL Challenge Day #18

I am learning a lot right now as a new teacher. Like, a lot. Every single day. My brain is saturated with information. 

Some things stay there. Some things are involuntarily swept away as new information comes barreling in. 

The things that stay though are shaping the edges of my teacher brain, and I've been thinking about one piece of advice in particular over the past few days.

"We have to respect teachers where they are at. We have to respect what they do well, even if we more prominently see their shortcomings. If we do not acknowledge and respect who they are right now, we will have very little impact on their potential growth."

This is paraphrased, but is the essence of what I heard many months ago. 

I feel like other teachers have given, and continue to, give me this grace. 

I hope that I give other teachers this same grace. 

SoL Challenge Day #17

I spent most of the morning and day today hiking Effigy Mounds with the science teacher in our building.

She's on the opposite side of the building and I hardly see her during the week, but I am so grateful for days like these when I get to explore nature and sort through some of my backed up teacher thoughts.

It is relieving to hear someone speak frankly and directly when I present them with my challenges, school related or otherwise.

I crave honesty and feedback regularly in my life, and I have found a wonderful marigold of a teacher who values growth through conversation in the same way that I do.

With spring break quickly coming to a close, I began to feel the anxiety of school return while I gave feedback on student work last night. I fell asleep still running possible lesson plans through my head.

As I verbalized all of the things I want to do in my classroom to her, she paused and said, "Well, then do it. Why can't you start some of those things next week?"

Good question. Fair question.

I'm a planner and a micromanager, and neither of those lend themselves to spontaneity in the classroom.

She's right though. I see opportunities for great learning experiences right now in my classroom, but I'm too nervous to act on them without a summer of careful thought and planning.

My plan this next week: Let it be messy.

I can let them explore and present them with challenges to which I do not have an answer.

With a little over two months left, I want to challenge myself in this way for my students.

I will revel in the stretch that I can feel happening as I write this. :)

SoL Challenge Day #16

Over halfway there!

Tonight...

I will finish giving feedback on my mythology students' myths.

I will start giving feedback on sophomore speeches.

I will start planning for next week.

I will get to the gym and hit the treadmill for thirty minutes.


Wish me luck!

SoL Challenge Day #15

I have kept a plant alive for almost nine months now.

This is a big deal, you guys. I received it as a present and, because I see this friend often, have managed to care enough for it to keep it mostly healthy. I've forgotten what kind of plant it even is.

Over the past two weeks though, it has started to wilt. Leaves have browned. I watered it faithfully, but nothing seemed to be helping.

So, I poked around with it for a few minutes and when I pulled the plant out of its original plastic casing, I could not believe it.

The entire thing was roots. There was hardly a speck of dirt left underneath.

The darn thing was starving.

One trip to Target, and an hour later my plant was feasting in its new, larger, and dirt filled abode. Within three hours the entire plant seemed to have lifted.

I sort of roll my eyes when people compare students to plants. It's cliche, but the change that happened in mere hours after giving my plant nutrients reminded me of its truth.

I am responsible for the quality of the nutrients, information, my students receive.

Could they still grow with dry material presented to them in pretty uninteresting ways? Probably.

Will they thrive? Probably not.

My reward as a teacher is their growth as students and as people, and I want to see them flourish in both roles.

So, as I enter into the latter side of spring break tomorrow and begin planning for next week, I will hold this cliche close to my thoughts.

Next week I will provide them with good soil to grow and flourish in.

SoL Challenge Day #14

I finished up my errands around eleven this morning, and found myself driving through the neighborhoods around the University of Northern Iowa's campus.

Living a post-college life in my college town is this weird blend of familiarity and unfamiliarity.

This small area of town was an entire world to me for four years, and I'd learned nearly every square foot of it.

I pulled over on an off street and walked into the local campus coffee shop to treat myself for getting my errands done before noon, and smiled inwardly at the fervor of conversations between students.

Oh, academia. Paired with caffeine, you set people alight.

One pair discussed the social hierarchy of their dorm floor with gusto.

Another pair discussed an upcoming accounting exam with dread.

I love this. I miss this.

I felt my smile twist for a moment and then fall.

I can recognize my faults as a, basically, first year teacher. Most of them I've at least improved upon, but allowing my enthusiasm for writing and reading to overcome the stress and pressure I feel to look basically put together has been challenging.

I do love what I am teaching. It's difficult to get out of my head enough during a class period to allow that joy to spring forth.

I'm forming habits right now though, and I'm grateful for this reminder to make joy in teaching a priority.

These thoughts are only partially formed right now, but I think they're important to keep sorting through.

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.

SoL Challenge Day #6

Today I took a personal day, my first one of the year.

I almost didn't. I felt guilty as I wrote the lesson plans on Friday, and as I locked my classroom door on the way out.

I'm glad I did though.

I woke up at 9, made coffee, and watched John Oliver.

My lunch consisted of chocolate chip muffin batter and more coffee.

After a trip to the grocery store, I sat down and went through my lesson plans, responded to student emails, and took a nap with the windows open.

Tonight I am showered, groomed, and on my way to get curry with close friends.

I feel calm, collected, and ready for tomorrow.

SoL Challenge Day #5

 On Thursday night I couldn't sleep. My thoughts were spinning, and I finally gave up and called the one person who I knew would be awake.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey sweetheart, what's up?"

My dad is nocturnal, and is most awake around 11:00 at night. We went through our usual topics of school, church, and their plans for summer. As we neared the end of the conversation, he let out a sigh and said, "Well, dear. I think Reggie is in her last few days."

I sat up in my bed and waited for him to finish listing the new ailments my childhood dog had started to display. Difficulty lifting her head. Walking into walls. Inability to find her way out of the laundry room.

I lifted the blanket to my eyes as tears flowed freely. I got her when I was nine. My mother had given my father a nearly impossible to meet list of requirements before we went to the pet store. I'm pretty sure my dad found the only dog in the tristate area that met that list.

I picked her up and she immediately snuggled her head between my collarbone and neck.

Oof. I was smitten. How can anyone say no to that image?

My mom couldn't. We took her home and I gained a goofy and rambunctious best friend.

I went home yesterday to say goodbye to her, in case she passes before Easter.

I held her to me, kissed her head, and reminded her of how much I love her.

So much of my childhood is interwoven with memories with her, and the ache inside of my feels stretched throughout my chest.

For now though, her sweet heart is still with us, and the snuggles from this weekend have filled my heart full.

SoL Challenge Day #4

In an effort to tell more stories, today I have written a poem.


My Grandfather

It was 1998, Nebraska, and Christmas.

I’d lost a baby tooth on the drive over,
and I smiled up at you as big as I could
so you wouldn’t miss it.

You nodded and gave me a hug
that felt more like a handshake,
hands and arms tied to obligation.

I didn’t understand the hardening
that sometimes happens in men
who have seen more than they speak.

Men who don’t fit in their skin,
so they kick at the surface
when no one else is watching.

I sat close to your chair and
narrated my examination of the tooth.
Each lisped word meant for your ears.

I was seven and resilient,
wrapping my arms around a man who
didn’t love from the same place as I did.

SoL Challenge Day #3

Week one of third trimester down, and I pulled into my apartment complex and parked. With my Friday after school coffee in hand, I balanced my weekend work on my hip and opened my mailbox. A tiny blue envelope poked out from under the mountain of grocery advertisements. My mom's name was carefully printed in the upper left hand corner. I slipped it into my purse, and climbed the stairs quickly.

My mother is a fiercely intelligent and kind woman. The nature with which she approaches the world is one that I both admire and continually strive to embody myself.

She's also a teacher, and a pretty great one. Growing up, I would often find her sitting on the living room floor with individual student learning plans covering the carpet and humming the songs her preschoolers would memorize over their year together. Her excitement for her classroom is palpable. Chickens are hatched in an incubator each year. Pumpkin guts are explored. Children's stories, quite literally, come life.

Complaints rarely leave her lips, and the language she uses when she speaks of others always acknowledges that all people are trying to be better versions of themselves.

I think about her often as I am settling into my teacher self. I hear her words leave my mouth when I direct students to put their belongings away. Her tone and volume echo in my own.

My thoughts shift to her when I walk into a conversation that tears something or somebody down, rather than builds. Years of observing her tact guide me to excusing myself quietly and undetected.

I carry her heart in my own, and that's a pretty incredible card I was dealt.

Her card sits next to me now as I look forward to the weekend. She sends her love (and a Jimmy John's gift card).

I will call her soon and thank her, as always, for everything.

Slice of Life Challenge Day 2

"The witch in Hansel and Gretel was not strategic at all. Candy just builds fat. She should have managed a Planet Fitness or something and lured her meals in that way."

I stopped and turned toward the group in the back of my classroom with the look my students have become all too familiar with. One of baffled enjoyment guised in skepticism. They waited for my response, but it was the final period of the day and I didn't have a whole lot left in me. "That is a solid point. Carry on." The student smiled at me and continued creating her one-pager of growth versus fixed mindset.

Teaching four different preps is kind of brutal so far. I am in my second year of teaching, but in my first year with high schoolers in a rural school district. Each period changes, but my mindset hasn't changed its internal clock to match the pace of the bell. I'm sure this is in part because of a new schedule, and in part because I am planning and teaching new material each day.

Spring break, come quickly!

I am looking forward to rest, but mostly, I am looking forward to mastering this schedule.

I am growing more roots from which to pull energy, and that takes time.

I am looking forward to tomorrow and the conversations from the corners of my room that leave me a bit baffled and entirely content in the exhaustion.

Slice of Life Challenge Day 1

I've sat down and tried to write today three separate times.

Some days I just don't have a lot of polished language to put out into the world, but if I am going to take on this challenge, some knots will have to remain.

We started a new trimester yesterday, and while I look forward to a change of pace, there is something that has me feeling deflated.

Maybe it's the momentum I'd built vanishing overnight. Maybe it's Lent.

There's something about Lent that quiets parts of me. The fuss that stirs inside of me on a daily basis is forced to take a reprieve when I'm told, "For you are dust, and to dust you shall return."

Oh yeah, I'm human and fallible.

Some day I won't be here, and while it would be difficult to live in that thought, it's important to return to that thought at points. There is time to patient. There is time to be kind. There is time to love.

There is time to meditate on God's Word and the sacrifice Christ made on the cross for me.

In a period of time where I find myself flitting from moment to moment, I am grateful for the quiet and the reminder of my vocation as an educator.

So, may the quiet guide me toward patience, kindness, and love when my surroundings aren't easy.

Let my quiet navigate the loud.