Hope Is...

"Hope" is the thing with feathers-

That perches in the soul-

And sings the tune without the words-

And never stops-at all-

And sweetest-in the Gale-is heard-

And sore must be the storm-

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm-

I've heard it in the chilliest land-

And on the strangest Sea-

Yet-never-in Extremity,

It asked a crumb-of me.

(Emily Dickinson)

That was one of the only poems I have ever memorized in my life and sometimes it comes to me in random moments. I imagine that little bird called "Hope" singing away, regardless of the circumstances. It's so easy to discount that bird's song, but I think it is such an important thing to feed. After love, I think hope is the most important force in the world.

In a recent episode of This is Us, a dinner party after the death of a loved one goes awry. To comfort Rebecca, Miguel tells a story about making wine. He said good wine is difficult to produce. It doesn't come every year, even when winemakers take precautions or work as hard as they possibly can to protect their crops. Sometimes, they toil away for no reward, but they keep doing it year after year though, hoping for a better outcome. It doesn't always come, but sometimes it does and it is amazing. It may have been a corny or overly-dramatic metaphor, but it rings true.

There are so many things in our worlds that we can't control. Things don't turn out right. We get sick or injured or depressed. Our car breaks down. We hate our jobs. There's a leak in the house. Someone we love dies. Those are dark holes. Those moments of darkness make it very hard easy to hear a constantly repeating soundtrack that say, "Why is this happening to me?" or "Why does everything go wrong?" or "Things will never get better." Try to listen for Hope. That bird's song can be faint, but it never stops at all.

The Most Important Language in My Classroom

This year, there are a lot of languages spoken in my classroom. I have 25 students who speak Spanish at home and come to me to improve their English. I have 3 that only spoke Arabic until just last year. One speaks Tagalog (which sounds so cool!). Then, I have English speakers that come in each day to learn French and Spanish and Italian and German. I think about language and the way languages work every single day.

            Here’s a hard truth, though. It doesn’t matter what language or words I use. No matter how many times I repeat an grammar rule or tell my students that "really" is, in fact, not spelled with an "i", my kids will not all be learning languages. Throughout my life, I have heard about different learning languages and different personality types and growth mindsets for students. All of these things are important to know and understand. To me, though, none of them are as important as the most important language in my classroom: the language of love.

I know, that sounds incredibly corny, but it is true! It doesn’t matter what words I use to communicate to these kids if those words don’t show that I care about them.  Kids that feel cared for will work harder for you. That is a tested truth. The only problem is that, like any language, love languages aren’t necessarily universal. I could greet each student exactly the same way every day and present every lesson the same and respond to every question and concern identically, and I would only reach a portion of the students. That’s why I learn my students’ love languages every year.  Let me give you some examples.

Students that respond to words of affirmation are always the easiest to reach. “Wow, that is such a thoughtful answer”, “I really love the effort you put into this project today”, or even “I love your new backpack” are so impactful. I try to hand out affirmation as much as possible in my first few weeks of school in order to get an understanding of which students really light up. I keep those students in mind and remember to never be skimpy on compliments whenever I notice something positive.

For some students, words aren’t enough. So, next comes my “gifts” kiddos. I’m not talking about spending money on actually buying them gifts all the time. All I do is hand out “Bee Cards” (They were “Panther Paws” in my last school) when I see a student follow or exceed expectations. Even though it is just a slip of paper, that “gift” really means something to some students. While the slips of paper can be saved up to buy actual prizes, sometimes the paper is enough. For example, I have one student this year who has already collected over 50 of them without spending them. I asked him last week if he was saving for something special and he said, “Not really. I just like to have them as a reminder of how good I’m doing.” His love language is definitely gifts.

I have found that, in middle school, the portion of my students that use physical touch as their love language are usually repressing that need. It is a shame, since a hug can have so many benefits, but I am able to reach these kids in less affectionate ways too. I love giving high fives anytime a student answers a question or does something responsible. So many kids try to act like they are too cool for that, but grin like crazy when I put my hand up. I can picture one girl I have this year now, so eager to do well so she can get a high-five. In my first year of teaching, a boy made up a special handshake for us that we used every day to greet one another.

The next love language is “acts of service.” These take a bit more time and attention. I have made efforts to go to basketball games or concerts or soccer games or school plays to support students. I have fixed broken lanyards when I saw the need. In these instances, with tough students, I often have to ask a lot of questions in order to identify what needs they have, but acts of service are often the most appreciated of all the love languages.

Finally, there is “quality time.” As my own predominant love language, this should be the easiest for me to give, but in the chaos of a school day, it can often be forgotten. When 20 kids are yelling my name at once, giving one student one-on-one time can be difficult. I know from experience how much it means though. Some of my best experiences with my own teachers were when my computer teacher sat with me and helped me create something new in Photoshop or when my speech coach spent time listening to my speech over and over. It was when a teacher allowed me to come in during my lunch hour just to talk. Lots of my kids just need an ear that is actually listening without distraction.

I know my students will all be hearing new languages in my classroom every day this year. But I also hope they hear their own language. Their language of love.

When You Talk Too Much

For the first writing assignment for the year in my Writing and Grammar class, the students were assigned to write a paragraph about something they were good at with reasons to support this claim. Most students bragged that they were great soccer players, outstanding artists, or wonderful friends.  Then I got to a paper that started like this:

"I am really good at talking too much."

My first reaction was to think he did the assignment wrong. It was supposed to be positive. I continued to read. He explained how his mom constantly had to tell him to be quiet. He told how he raised in hand so that he could talk in every class. He even labeled himself the "speaker" for his younger brothers. While it wasn't necessarily a positive paragraph, it was a claim that he really believed was true and he had relevant evidence to back up his belief. He had been told his whole life he talked too much, and that had become a part of his identity. When asked to write about himself, this was his self-perception.

I ended up giving the student an A. His paragraph really struck a chord with me. How many times have I been told to be quiet by my parents? How many teachers told me to "give someone else a chance to talk"? How many times have I been excited and talked right over someone else? And I've definitely seen that glazed look in the eyes of all my friends at one point or another when I just forgot to quit. People in my life have always joked about it, but it always, always makes me feel terrible when someone brings attention to my talking.

Unfortunately for my friends and family, I can't stop talking. When something comes to mind, I just am dying to blurt it out immediately. So is this student. He talks and talks and talks. I realized reading his paragraph, that I had already lectured him a couple times about blurting out in class just in the very first  week. So, I took the next week to be purposeful about listening to him instead. While, at times, I knew he was just looking for a laugh from his peers, he also loved to contribute to what we were learning. He had all kinds of ideas and wanted to share them.

Today, I approached him. I said, "You know what? I talk a lot too." "Really?" he replied. "Yep. Everyone is always telling me that I talk too much. But sometimes it's good to tell your stories. I like to hear what you have to say. We talkers have to stick together."

I Like Me Better

There are people in our lives that we want to get to know more. They are interesting or funny or kind. We are attracted to their energy. Something much more rare and special, though, are those people who shine that energy back at us. Instead of just wanting to get to know them, we want them to get to know us. We open ourselves up without feeling uncomfortable or self-conscious. As the song goes, "I like me better when I'm with you." As Ross says in the episode of Friends that is coincidently on in front of me right now, "I love the person I am when I'm with you." We all deserve people like that; that not only make us feel important and beautiful and interesting, but whose presence actually pushes us to be better people. 

Finding these people is hard. I make it even more difficult for myself. I fall into category #1. I love lots of people. I want to get to know lots of people. I want to help people and do things with these people. But I always assume they wouldn't want to know me. I assume they are annoyed or irritated by my presence. To be fair, many, many people have been annoyed by me in my life. I can be overbearing and very loud. However, the sigh my sister responded with might have nothing to do with me, but with her stressful day. The lack of communication with a good friend may have more to do with her busy schedule than her feelings about me. 

This is starting to sound like a blog where I tell you I should be more positive and presume good intentions and open myself up, huh? That would follow the typical pattern of my posts. Here's the truth, though. I can't do that. I can try. I could tell myself to not take things to heart and be confident in myself. I could tell myself that every hour of every day. I still wouldn't. I would still feel like I was falling short. Here's the good news. I'm lucky enough to be a teacher of middle school students. And even though that is a dreaded age group for most, with those kids, I never have to guess feelings. 😂They will tell me when they hate me and tell me when they love me. They'll tell me when I'm being "lame" and when my dress looks pretty. And, when I'm teaching, I feel in my element. It is when I'm the most confident and least worried. In fact...I like me better when I'm with them.

6 more days until the first day of school!

Goals for A New Year

Tomorrow marks the first day for me as a teacher here in Arizona. While it will only be trainings all week, which will most likely be boring, I am so excited to get started. For those of you who don't know, I am teaching something completely new this year: English Language Development. I have worked with many students in my past four years of teaching that spoke another home language, but never before have I been given the task of specifically helping them develop their English language. I know my teaching practices as a reading teacher will serve me well in this new venture, but it is a new state with new standards and test, a new school with different expectations and procedures, and a very different demographic of students. While in some ways that is daunting, it is also incredibly exciting. I really can't wait. To mark this powerful new moment in my life, I , as always, made a list. There will be a learning curve. I won't get a lot right. I want my expectations to be realistic. This is what I want from this year:

1. I will learn something every day. Even if it is what doesn't work with a group of students or something new about a single student. If I walk home knowing something I didn't know coming into the day, I have accomplished something.

2. I will share my love of reading...and writing...and speaking. I may not be a reading teacher anymore, but I can't think of a better way to learn English than by reading. I learn new words all the time when reading books. I know not all of my kids will love reading like I do. In fact, it will be an incredibly frustrating enterprise for many of them. I think attitude goes a long way. If I am just honest about my love for all of these things, students may see potential for the same love with practice.

3.I will have an organization system. While many amazing teachers are very disorganized, I learned in the past few years how less stressful a school year can be if you do the work of really thinking things through up-front.

3. I will give students the opportunity and the encouragement to participate. I think this is incredibly important when learning a language. I know Spanish in theory fairly well, but I am not fluent because I never actually talk to people in that language. When I am given the opportunity, I always feel as if everyone is judging what I say. So, it is my goal to make sure the environment is safe and encouraging for everyone to talk without judgement.

4. I will be open to feedback. I think one of the best ways to get better is to ask others with more experience. As I learned early on from speech competitions, it is difficult to take negative feedback, but if we utilize the criticism and understand it is not a personal attack, we can get better. I also think it's important to ask students how they feel things are going. I don't have to take all advice, but I need to listen to all of it.

I am so excited to start this new adventure and will keep you all up to date on the things I learn along the way!

Taking Up Space

A few days ago, I was lying on the couch, my body stretched up so I took up the entire length of it. I was so relaxed. Then, my sister walked into the living room and I immediately sat up. "Sorry," I said; an automatic reaction. She wrinkled her forehead and asked, "Sorry for what? Existing?" I replied, "No, taking up space."

Obviously I meant I was sorry for taking up the entire couch. Practically, I was just trying to be polite, but as I said it, I thought, "Damn, she's right. Taking up space IS existing. I just apologized for existing."

I continued to think for the rest of the evening about how I often I do just that. I mean, how often do you say, "I'm sorry to bother you"? I say it A LOT. Even when I'm just talking about important work-related things to a coworker, which shouldn't "bother" them at all. I am always concerned about encroaching on other people's time and space. I actually feel stressed when I'm standing in the way of someone else at the grocery store, even though I have just as much of a right to stop and think about what I'm buying as they do. I know I'm not the only one who apologizes for a messy house. Everyone does that. I barely walk into someone else's house without hearing it. Unless it's so bad that a guest can't sit down, I promise our clutter isn't hurting other people in any way. My sister can find another spot to sit. People can wait for me to make a decision. If my friends and family are annoyed by answering a text, they probably aren't good people to have in my life.

By taking up less space; by talking quieter or reaching out less, I really am trying to "exist" less in a way. I need to think of myself less as a burden and more as an asset to my environment. It is such a hard thing to me. I apologize too much. You could argue that this is a result of a mid-western upbringing. You could say it is the conditioning of women in our society. Both are probably true. But the heart of it is this. I have to believe I am worth enough to take up your time and space. I am important enough to be seen and to be heard.

You Belong

Imagine you are in a room full of people, but no one is looking at you. No one is talking to you. You are physically uncomfortable, wishing you were in your bed or at least somewhere familiar. You've been there, right? I think we all have. That out-of-place feeling is something everyone has to go through in life. Discomfort isn't always a bad thing. What is important is that we all find our reprieve. We all need to be able to "go home."

I personally believe a sense of belonging is just as important to our well-being as food or shelter. I'm very serious about this. The feeling of not belonging is like starving. Your physical body may look no different, but your mind shrivels up. In my previous classroom, some of my students needed nourishment in the form of food, but ALL of them needed nourishment in the form of belonging. It is a top priority for me to know my students names. I greet them each day. I ask them questions. I tell them I missed them when they are gone. I don't care if they enjoy my class. I care that they feel seen and their presence is acknowledged.

This doesn't change when we grow up. Most people I know, unfortunately, dislike their jobs and the number one complaint I hear is that they feel unappreciated or like they don't belong in that job. It isn't about phony "team-building." It's about genuine connections and feeling like contributions are valid.

As I have just moved to a new city, it is very easy for me to fall into the category of "not-belonging." My environment is new, but "going home" isn't about a physical place. On my trip down here, I stopped in my home town. That house used to be my safe place. That school used to feel like home. Now, they are just buildings. We make our home in places we feel belonging and I know I will eventually find where I belong here. I still have family that has always made me feel wanted. I have friends that, although not near me, show me I belong when they answer my texts or phone calls. We can all belong somewhere. If you are feeling unwanted or unseen, keep looking around that crowded room. You will find your home. You belong.