Astonishingly Beautiful, Frequently Thrilling

Lately I've been thinking about the attitude that Midwesterners have about the quality of life they project.  I'm talking about those moments when people respond to a question about how things are going by saying, 'Can't complain.'  What they really mean is 'I'm doing well' but they can't SAY it.  Or they don't allow such great heights to get to them.  Usually I imagine that older men say this when they are sitting around at a general store playing checkers...except where would that be these days? 

In the past, I've found myself amused and exasperated by it.  This week I found myself guilty of it.

I haven't come to a very brilliant discovery about anything, but I am going to choose to express the affirmative words when someone asks about my life.  I'm going to quit aligning my daily thoughts with the 'so so'.  I think in life that so much of what we express about ourselves anyway really has to come from thoughtful awareness of our own internal pace.  

When people don't live in the 'Can't complain' genre of thinking, they show that they are alive. 

Pete and Repeat Got Into a Boat....

About once a week, a song comes into my mind and won't leave.  I hear it when I'm drying my hair, when I'm driving, when I'm teaching, while grading, and in any conversation in the day. 

Lots of people have songs stuck in their heads.  Sometimes I'll just stop class and hear about other songs trailing around in the room.  It's usually a good mix.  The weirdest week was when it was 'Like a G6' by Far East Movement.  Over and over again.  It was really disconnected to hear the word 'slizzard' in my mind while answering an 8th grader's question about Manifest Destiny.  But it wouldn't leave.  

Last week I was endlessly hearing 'Every Teardrop is a Waterfall' by Coldplay. 
THIS week, it is always, always this....

Two Things

The beautiful city where I am often lost

First, I finally bought a GPS.  This was something I did after getting lost for the 3rd time this week in Minneapolis.  Yesterday I once again got to know both sides of the East and West Bank (and people in pre-game festivities by the TCF Stadium) before finding my way through construction to my destination. 


I was an hour late for a meeting at Augsburg College, (don't worry, it was 3 hours long) and had to have lots of winding conversations about construction with people I only sort of know.   Lots of people are very kind about this.  Everyone thinks that if they explain things to me in great detail, these things will stick with me.  Unfortunately, this is not so.  People also talk very passionately about the one ways in Minneapolis, but the truth is that I get how to manage the one ways, and they don't stress me out.  I am always lost long before that. 


When I admit this, some people truly do look uncomfortable, which becomes funny to me.  I tell myself not to laugh outloud.  They look bewildered...what do you with someone THAT directionally challenged?  (We usually stick to the talk about the one ways.)


I can never remember if the streets are east and west and the avenues are north and south, or vice versa.  Two different people I know who live in Minneapolis explained this to me again this week.  That's what it is.

Thoughts about the Last 10 Years

Yesterday, like many other people, I thought about 9/11.  This year I thought about it a lot.  It weighed on me, and wouldn't go away, even when I turned off the television.  Every year since 2001 there has has been some strong awareness of the day, but this year was different. I think that finally I really, really got it.

Because so much emphasis has been put on wherever we were when the towers fell, the entire story of it has a direct and lasting impact in the context of our lives.  I could understand that the connection to Pearl Harbor is because it was a direct attack on our unsuspecting country.  The big difference for me was that the insanity of it felt more real than ever before. 

When I learned about the World Trade Center, I was not an adult.  I was a very impressionable teenager, sitting in a classroom in high school.  I didn't even know what the World Trade Center was until the morning that we were watching everything fall apart in Manhattan.  Though now I would look at this as a launching place for learning, in 2001, I felt embarrassed that I hadn't even had awareness about the Twin Towers.   That whole day made me wonder about the thousands of other things I didn't know about the world.  

Thoughts on the Craft of Teaching

It's nice to look forward to going to your job everyday.  I really like being a teacher, and even when it's the first week of school, I've realized that these people, this way of life, this approach to being in the world...I LIKE it. 

Some days it really doesn't feel like that is the paramount thought, but in review of the classic intensity of the very first week of school, it's a good sign that I can still say that.  The first week of school is WEIRD.   I feel like I'm teaching ever growing 6th graders instead of 7th graders because they're still learning how to even walk into a classroom and be ready. 

Articulate Honesty from People Half My Age

Today was the first day of school. 

No one I know, students and teachers alike, slept very well.  Even though I wasn't nervous for the day, it still felt like I just dozed.  It just comes with the beginning of September, I think.  I spent the day living out a new schedule with new students and wondering the whole time why it felt like I blinked and we were back again.  My students felt it too.  How do I know?  They told me.

I just finished reading a whole pile of papers that start out with 'Dear Miss Christians...'  I made my 8th graders write me a letter.  And I am struck by how honest my students are and how well written these letters were.  I think because we know each other we could interact like we did today.  I asked them to tell me anything about themselves.  I told them I look at them differently than I did last year.  They are more poised and pulled together, and I am going to hold them to higher standards.  And then I gave them time to write. 

Common Things

The soundtrack for this blog post, and my day in general. 

Crack of dawn beauty while driving with Mom

I did a lot of driving today, and driving is good time for thinking.  You stare off into the distance and think about the things that rest in the back of your mind, and every once in a while you pass a car and wonder about them a little bit too.  Where are they going?  What music are they listening to?  Are they happy to be together?  Then you go back to wondering about your own life.  Putting things in their place.  Talking to the people in the car, or just NOT talking and enjoying what it feels like to be together in the quiet.

When we were driving, I thought about...surprise...teaching.  There is a lot of that lately.  I'd say this year has been marked by prepping for school in so many uncommon and stretching ways.  But in the end it's really very simple.  You choose to be a dependable and thoughtful adult in students' lives and show up every day and talk about the world with them and it comes together.  Without fail.  Every year.  And that's it, in the end.  

There is nothing else for me besides that tomorrow.  And the actual plan I have for the day.

Tonight I can honestly say that the first day of school is no longer scary.  I don't have to remind myself to breathe anymore.  But the weight has shifted from heart palpitations to other matters.  I spent a lot of time this summer thinking about education.  I didn't plan to, but the why of it all came together in my conversations and in the times of silence.  I asked myself how I was different now that I've done this for a few (quick!!) years, and what kind of teacher I want to be in the future.     

I think one of the nicest thoughts of all is that, no matter what new things come along, there are some things that are tried and true about education because people are people and they are still learning.  I know I still like being a teacher.  I still like middle school.  I still like to talk about history.  Conveniently, I do teach middle school history.  And people continue to be interesting and humbling and very real.

Since it's no longer my first or second (or third or fourth) year,  I could remind myself very easily today that probably the most real moment I will have tomorrow will not be in the big ideas.  Instead, in this surprising world, it will probably be when someone knows for sure how to open their locker for the next few hours in between class because they asked about it and we figured it out together.  Or when some new student smiles back at me even though I can tell that they are scared that they will be tardy.  The world slowing down to meet people where they are.  That's real. 

Humanity shows up for the first day of school too.  I have learned now to welcome that before anything else.   

So that's tomorrow.

But today.  Today was good too.  Driving, hanging out with my parents, and some space to think.  We went to Iowa.    

Another classic Abby, Paul, and Jessica pictures

Going to Iowa for the Labor Day parade is one of those timeless things in my life that of course really has changed with time.  It's not always the same, but the structure is still there.  There's a parade and then lunch and then lots of time with family.  Everyone knows each other in small towns, and in this place I quickly become 'Bruce's daughter' or 'Evelyn's granddaughter' before anything else. 

What was unusual today was a visit to a one room schoolhouse.  I did not expect this, but it happens to be a formal historical marker for the state of Iowa literally a few hundred feet away from the house where my grandma now lives.  I went to this schoolhouse with a few aunts and uncles, and my cousin Michelle's little boy, Gavin.

He just started kindergarten, and school is brand new and thrilling and also old hat for him all at once.  Any shred of apprehension I had about my own teaching life melted completely when I sat with him for the afternoon and talked about school.  (We also played with stuffed animals and ran around a little.)   

Five year olds have an awesome view of the world.  Here's what I picked up from him in our conversation. 

What always happens when we try to get
pictures with all 3 of them.

• He loves his teacher and thinks she can do no wrong.  (That's kindergarten for you...I won't be banking on that with 7th and 8th grade).
• Tomorrow will be his 10th day in school.
• He wants to be a paleontologist who studies dinosaurs when he grows up.  He learned this from a game on Caillou, but sometimes he learns things from himself too.
• The teeter totter is still a little scary and he can't go all the way up yet. 
• Hot lunch is better than cold lunch, and spaghetti is the best one so far.  Chocolate milk comes once a week if you're willing to pay an extra dime.
• He hopes he never has to go to the principal's office, not even in 15th grade.
• I asked him what happens when kids shout out an answer and don't raise their hand.  He stared at me blankly.  I truly don't think he has seen much of that in his 10 days in school.  You RAISE YOUR HAND in kindergarten.  I even tried explaining it to him in a different way.  Still, no.  You just raise your hand.  Right?  (Right.)
• He can name every kid in his class.  And they're all friends. 

 A conversation with Gavin about something that he is so passionate about was a huge lift for me.  He talked and talked and talked, and we sat in this one room schoolhouse, and I remembered that school is a lot about giving people the time of day too.  

Gavin!

By far, the most bewildering moment for Gavin today was when my aunt asked me about school and Gavin heard my response.  He said, 'Why are you going to school tomorrow?'  I told him I was a teacher, and he said, 'A TEACHER??'  With some shock and alarm.  

Something clicked in his mind in a very obvious way because he gets what school is now.  It was so weird to see that recognition in his eyes when he shouted 'A TEACHER??'  I told him I don't teach kids who are 5, I teach kids who are 12, and he seemed to get that, and from then on out, it was the whole gamut of things.  (See above.)  Also, how did I do Show and Tell when I was in kindergarten (I told him), and when could we get chocolate milk?  We talked about why kids used ink in old schoolhouses, and where his grandpa went to school, and whether or not he's left-handed or right-handed.  

I do not envy the life of a country schoolteacher, but sitting in that old schoolhouse today was a breath of fresh air to me.  So was hanging out with my family.  A lovely older woman named Nadine came by and heard us talking and said, 'All of this in a little person who is so small and has so many thoughts!  Can you imagine teaching 30 of them?'  And I thought, 'Nadine, I've done that, literally, and it was tough.  NO thanks.  I'll stick with middle school.'   I was totally proud of Gavin, like he was my own child.  I found myself saying, 'I know, he's really articulate.  Ask him what he wants to be when he grows up.'  She did.   He doesn't think it's anything out of the ordinary, so he explained it again.  Her eyebrows rose again.
   

Old inspiration (Thanks, Nadine!)

Nadine...she actually went to school in a country schoolhouse.   She showed me a picture of herself in an old picture, and we talked about her life experiences.  She let me look through some books that gave instructions to teachers about how to teach.  The books were printed in 1901, and they were part of a correspondence course through a Normal School in Chicago.  CRAZY! 

What if you had to learn to teach in this way?   These books were inspiring.  And I took some pictures of them because I wanted to remember what the pages said.   How to teach in 1901, so said the chapter called 'Pedagogy and Methods'. 

I felt so much comfort in reading something from 110 years ago that could bring light to my own thoughts in teaching in this very modern world today.  How many men and women have bent over their own desks with this book throughout the decades, wondering about themselves as teachers too and finding the small thoughts in the daily grind to be homing devices for what is true at a core level?  These experiences have found their way to my teaching life again. 

Class of 2024!

I also felt very bolstered to see that people in 1901 told teachers to play and look at children as people to be treasured.  It encouraged teachers to always be learners and to think critically to understand and know.  So many things are so often cyclical!  Teaching does not escape this.  I find myself endeared to those timeless things, and grateful for this calling.   

My very favorite thing from this book is the smallest statement set in the footnotes.  It is supposedly something that comes from an English text on advice to schoolmasters, and it simply says,

"Light the magic lantern of common things."

Fatigue and Dual Thinking

I am in need of some kind of inspiration again about teaching because this has been a tiring and overwhelming week.  There is always a lot to do before students come, and I am no longer the perfectionist I once was about certain things in my classroom or in myself.  Even without crazy internal expectations, my mind is still humming. 


It's a little concerning to me that I feel this way before the kids even come, but the magic secret that I think we teachers sometimes forget is that the students are the very inspiring people we tend to subconsciously think of when we do our best work.  It's important and necessary to think big picture and come together as a staff and organize and prepare and build, but it's also important to be someone who exudes something good when teaching.  And you don't build that.  You just are someone, each and every day. 


Teaching is so layered, or at least there is a duality to everything we try to do.  Gentle yet strict, facts but also wonder for the world, human error alongside of standards.  Movements in history that cover centuries AND one person's life story.  Trying to be tactful in a classroom when sometimes the students just aren't.