Tragedy

In the past few days there has been a lot of processing. I see faces on the news of the victims. There are arguments on social media over the best solution to the problem. And at the end of the day 50 innocent people lost their lives and we all go to bed a little less secure.

I am a 24 years old and yet in the past decade I need more than one hand to count the tragedies. Growing up, our parents could talk about Columbine as this horrible event.  But what will I talk about with my kids? A movie theater in Colorado? A marathon in Boston? A school called Sandy Hook? These are all within a decade alone. A staggering increase compared to decades before us where we heard of casualties on the battlefields of war. I do not mean to diminish the lives of soldiers who have died defending our freedom. They deserve our unending gratitude.  But at least then you went to bed safe at night knowing they gave the ultimate sacrifice to protect us.  What happens now? I may sleep at night but now fear what may happen each day as I move about this cruel and intolerant world.

My heart aches for my students that are growing up in this world.  To live in fear of tragedy and violence is no way to live, but to walk without concern is to be desensitized to the violence. This cannot be the norm.  This can never be just what happens. We must raise our children with more than tolerance.  We must create a culture of acceptance, trust, and the unwillingness to allow the status quo to go unchanged.  

Check out: Love, Teach Blog: Tolerance is Not Enough – A Letter to My Former Students

How do you explain these events to the little ones in desks across from us? How does a teacher cope with her own shock all while comforting a child?  In elementary school, I know students cannot fully process the seemingly endless tragedies that are occurring.  They do not know or understand the underlying issues of race, religion, and sexuality. They cannot quantify the loss of life.  But, I believe we are kidding ourselves to think that they will grow up a generation unaffected.  We are shaped by even those forces we cannot fully understand.

Tragedy has, once again, pulled us apart.  We must listen to the voices that offer sympathy and support. Reach out for the hands that fight to bring us together. March behind the leaders that will create the change we need to stop these senseless losses of life and acts of hate.  We are responsible for building a better tomorrow. It simply cannot wait.

Life’s Better When You’re Laughing

Laughing keeps you young. Perhaps the lack of laughing is the #1 cause of aging.  Hang out with a kid for an afternoon and stay conscious of how often they laugh. You may be surprised.

Keeping my sense of humor with teaching helps to keep me sane and happy. Recently my students have said some laugh-worthy things that are worth quoting.

-D: What does the +10 on the Pokemon card stand for?
-Me: I’m not sure.
D: Miss A, I have another question.
(Of course, I’m fully anticipating more questions about the Pokemon card in his hand.)
D: What’s sex?

Set the scene: I have just come back to the classroom at noon after a half day in-service. During this time my students had a sub.  Within seconds of crossing through the threshold, at least 5 students have come up to me and are talking simultaneously.
Boy: Can I go to the nurse? I think I had a stroke. I haven’t been able to move my arm for a few days (arm hanging limply by his side for dramatic effect, obviously).
Girl: My leg hurts.
Me: Girl, how did I know there would be something wrong with you??
Girl: Actually there’s a list-I can’t jump, walk, skip…

The PTO had a spirit day for our groovy book fair theme.  Students dressed up for Hippie day. 8 year olds do not know what hippie’s are…..unless you’re E who went around informing the class as if they were so ignorant for not knowing.
-E: Don’t you know what a drum circle is??? That’s a hippie.

Last, but not least, second grade spellings. If you can read these words, you’re definitely a teacher.
Holupaynos
The Wolf did not blow down the 3 Little Pigs house omperpus.
In the original one the Wolf alckchuly meant to blow it down.
Not unuff room.

The Unexpected Poets

Writing has become very therapeutic. It has also become a thief of my sleep. When strong emotions hit, good or bad, they flow out of me through the tip of a pen, the click of a keyboard.  I can never just sit down and write. If I try, my mind goes blank. It’s when I don’t intend it that my best work comes out. (Usually this is well after bed time on a school night when I should be fast asleep.). In fact, I often write without knowing exactly how I’m feeling or where I’m going. It is only once I look back at what I’ve produced that I understand the inner workings of my mind.

I’ve been inspired by many writers. I am amazed by the work of Sarah Kay and other spoken word poets on the internet. I click on teacher blog after blog devouring the lives of complete strangers that seem to be so similar to my own.

There are days I think I would have liked to have taught creative writing with older students.  My own students are great and truly making incredible developments for 7 and 8 year olds, but no matter what, they will always be 7 and 8. Perhaps one day I will get my chance to try my talents with older students.

For now, I’m enjoying developing my own skills and voice as a writer. I share what’s relevant in the classroom and with coworkers. And every so often those little brains truly amaze me.

Sad is black.

It sounds like a puppy crying.

It smells like dead bugs.

It tastes like smoke.

It looks like rain.

Sad feels like I am a ghost.

–

Sadness is white.

It sounds like a crying baby.

It tastes like rotten cheese.

It looks like a sad dog.

It smells like old food.

Sadness feels like a belly ache.

Believe it or not, these beautiful, profound works were written by my second grade poets. They were taught sensory poems from the formatting attached here.

Sensory Poem Outline

 

Pretty incredible after all ❤