Since all my current LIA students hate me, and I have to apologize to them tomorrow and admit my weaknesses, I've decided to prepare myself to face the enemy by reflecting on my three highlights from the week.
HIGHLIGHT 1:
One day, when spouting off announcements rapid fire to my tenth grade class of Latinos in Action, Paty, who has no filter, blurts out "Ms. Davis, why aren't you married?" I had been writing my Twitter name up on the board and she said she noticed the 'Ms' instead of 'Mrs.' At that point, Debora declared, "Oh We've got to do something about that. We need to set you up with someone" and then Michael suggested, 'Hey I've got this mentor, and he is fineeee.'" Tenth graders setting you up is a clear sign that you have reached the age of desperation.
HIGHLIGHT 2:
In my Honors English classes, we are working feverishly on helping the students write effective commentary. To do that, we've been analyzing some poetry and short stories. First up for dissection was Emily Dickinson's poem "Because I could not stop for death." Students filed into class with a pleadingly confused look on their face after struggling with the poem for homework. I decided to pause our agenda for a few moments and explain the poem, it's imagery and symbolism. After I was done explicating it, the students were nodding their heads as the beauty finally clicked for them. But one student, Bryson, decided that he was "going to start viewing all of life as poetry." He said, 'oh that guy is wearing a red shirt? Obviously he has latent frustrations and feels intense anger, etc." The next day, we discussed how the pumpkins in the story "Yours" by Mary Robison represent death and the way the different characters cope with it. All the students were shocked at how I could draw meaning from that image. So Bryson raises his hand and says, "So does the daycare mean something deeper to? What does it represent?" I struggled to stifle my laugh; he was trying so hard to understand how images could have a figurative meaning that he was worried the character's volunteering at a daycare was really a metaphor. The English teacher in me loved it and was laughing so hard on the inside.
HIGHLIGHT 3:
This is a paradoxical highlight because initially it will not sound positive. The LIA classes hosted a "Battle of the LIA classes" this past Saturday, which was phenomenal and almost completely student-run. We had dinner, a brain teaser competition, a lengthy obstacle course, and then heated basketball and soccer games. But, occasionally there were a few moments of down time. During one of those periods, Michael was playing with my SmartBoard and said "This is the coolest. I want one to watch HD Porn." To which all the students laughed, some awkwardly. Obviously I could not let that comment stand without any feedback. Thus, I motioned for Michael to come sit and chat with me about that comment. From there, I started explaining to him that I had research pornography when dating someone who had once been addicted to it. I then proceeded to teach him about oxytocin and the problems that causes when it bonds you with the pornography, how porn is a coping mechanism, how it rewires the brain, how it affects relationships, and other important facts. At one point, I had to stop and give a few instructions to everyone in the room and Michael said "Oh no. I was actually really enjoying this conversation; I don't want it to be over." Eventually, I got to where I said that every man and most women will see 'pornography' at some point in their life especially since it's so pervasive in advertising, on TV, on Internet sites, and all facets of our lives. However, it is their choice to continue to pursue it and see it out for self-gratification. Then, I explained why I cared when people made flippant comments about pornography as if it should be accepted by society as a undeniable fact that all boys will choose to watch it. He walked away knowing a lot more about how it hurts millions of lives.
Why is having a conversation about pornography a highlight? Michael is an interesting, rough kid and I don't believe he will change because of this conversation. But I was grateful that I could explain the WHY and not just yell out a reprimand in response to his comment. I hope it will be more effective. Unfortunately for him, I am ever the teacher and seize even awkward teaching moments.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Sunday, November 2, 2014
#beingbearaware
When one teacher, one school speech pathologist, and two nurses have Fall Break, they escape to Montana in search of their mountain men. In the end, they visit Glacier National Park, sans the men. And here is the result...
It was the middle of October and we HAD to get this trip in because my National Parks Pass expired at the end of the month and I wanted to convince myself that I am outdoorsy and that I put my pass to use. [How unfortunate that we never actually had to show it anywhere].
Despite the drive from Utah to Montana being 10 hours, which thankfully was ONLY 10 hours and not longer due to Kristen's mad driving skills, we all decided it was worth it. Here's why...
or like this...
It was the middle of October and we HAD to get this trip in because my National Parks Pass expired at the end of the month and I wanted to convince myself that I am outdoorsy and that I put my pass to use. [How unfortunate that we never actually had to show it anywhere].
Despite the drive from Utah to Montana being 10 hours, which thankfully was ONLY 10 hours and not longer due to Kristen's mad driving skills, we all decided it was worth it. Here's why...
A lot of our 96 hours together were spent like this:
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| #nothinglikequantitytimeinacar |
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| and pouring chips into Kristen's mouth |
or like this...
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| Remember how it was the middle of October?...on the Canadian border? Yeah, bundling up wasn't an option. |
But look at the beauty we found...
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| Needless to say, we were quite excited about it! |
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| #nofilter #pureH20 |
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This is on the "Road to the Sun" that my parents made me promise not to drive on. What they don't know... |
That one time we decided to go on a hike because, after all, we were in a National Park...but Kristen had a slight panic attack since it was "Grizzly Bear" season. Apparently, she didn't trust us to operate the bear spray. As you can tell, we made it real far away from civilization on the 'hike.'
And then we ended the evening with some beautiful vistas...
The next day we figured we would go to Canada, aye?
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| Ironically, all of us were "faux" scared here, except for Kristen. Don't let looks fool you; she says she was petrified though her face says nothing but serenity. She swears this truly is her "freak-out scared" reaction. I think she looks like a model when paralyzed by the threat of Grizzlies. Maybe that's not a bad tactic? |
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| Heidi dutifully attempted to make noise to ward off the bears as we walked to ward off the bears. However, we quickly learned that wood on wood is not the most effective technique. |
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| Since our hike didn't last that long, what else do you do? Photo shoot! |
And then we ended the evening with some beautiful vistas...
The next day we figured we would go to Canada, aye?
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| First thing you do when you are in Canada? Celebrate that you got to use your passport! And lament that they didn't actually stamp it. #wefeltjipped |
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| Along the way, we also 'needed' to get out and 'shake it off' like Taylor Swift in an open field. Why do Americans hate Canada so? It was breathtakingly beautiful. Maybe it's the wind..   |
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| One pro of Canada was that it gave me my Sound of Music moment I've always dreamed of. |
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| In the middle of this lake is the divide between the US and Canada! |
Oh the "Power of Your Purse"
1. I love strong women.
2. I love an excuse to dress up.
3. I love Grand America's dinners.
Thus, I was destined to love the "Power of Your Purse" event last Thursday at the Grand America Hotel in downtown Salt Lake City. It was a celebration of the several hundred female leaders in Salt Lake who make up the Women's Leadership Council. As a branch of the United Way, they donate money with the specific intent that it will go toward helping education. To let these women see where their money goes, the event planners bring in three female students each year from the schools benefitting from this involvement.
By some fortuitous stroke of luck, Cottonwood High School is that school. When the Granite School District shut down the dysfunctional "Granite High School," Cottonwood subsumed a lot of the students from South Salt Lake, a lower SES neighborhood. Consequently, United Way now supports Cottonwood since they are interested in anyone who works with the South Salt Lake population.
Another lucky coincidence is that I teach the Leaders/Latinos In Action program at CHS, which is funded through United Way. All of this adds up to being asked to bring three of my girls to the event as panel members who would talk about their family backgrounds, their challenges, and their aspirations. Initially, I was not nervous at all because I was thinking this panel was all about them. And to an extent it was. But little did I realize that the moderator, which I was, played a big role in the success of the overall panel. When we got to the ballroom and I noticed just how many hundreds of seats there were, I started to feel nervous. Thankfully we were scheduled in the middle of the program, a program centered on female leaders who strive to empower more women. That topic was enough to get me pumped up. I think the panel was a success, especially since so many people sincerely congratulated us. The next day at work, one of the science teachers even showed me a text sent to him by one of the leading doctors in the area who said to congratulate us. If nothing else, it reminded me how much I love these girls and women who make a difference.
2. I love an excuse to dress up.
3. I love Grand America's dinners.
Thus, I was destined to love the "Power of Your Purse" event last Thursday at the Grand America Hotel in downtown Salt Lake City. It was a celebration of the several hundred female leaders in Salt Lake who make up the Women's Leadership Council. As a branch of the United Way, they donate money with the specific intent that it will go toward helping education. To let these women see where their money goes, the event planners bring in three female students each year from the schools benefitting from this involvement.
By some fortuitous stroke of luck, Cottonwood High School is that school. When the Granite School District shut down the dysfunctional "Granite High School," Cottonwood subsumed a lot of the students from South Salt Lake, a lower SES neighborhood. Consequently, United Way now supports Cottonwood since they are interested in anyone who works with the South Salt Lake population.
Another lucky coincidence is that I teach the Leaders/Latinos In Action program at CHS, which is funded through United Way. All of this adds up to being asked to bring three of my girls to the event as panel members who would talk about their family backgrounds, their challenges, and their aspirations. Initially, I was not nervous at all because I was thinking this panel was all about them. And to an extent it was. But little did I realize that the moderator, which I was, played a big role in the success of the overall panel. When we got to the ballroom and I noticed just how many hundreds of seats there were, I started to feel nervous. Thankfully we were scheduled in the middle of the program, a program centered on female leaders who strive to empower more women. That topic was enough to get me pumped up. I think the panel was a success, especially since so many people sincerely congratulated us. The next day at work, one of the science teachers even showed me a text sent to him by one of the leading doctors in the area who said to congratulate us. If nothing else, it reminded me how much I love these girls and women who make a difference.
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| Dipika from Nepal, Stephanie Pesantes who is the Latinos in Action President, myself, and Taylor Holding who is from the South Salt Lake neighborhood, an honors student, and here because they needed a white female for the audience. |
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| The awkward picture of me that a friend (who was in the audience without me realizing) took of me on the screens while moderating...and then posted on Facebook. |
10 Years in Utah and Still Discovering Hidden Treasures
Family, prepare yourself, because this is where we are going as soon as I can convince you to visit me in Utah. It will most likely take years, but eventually I will get you here...
Sunday, September 28, 2014
#womensmeeting
What do you look like when you go watch the Women's session of General Conference?
Why, you look like you just had a pedicure. #ilovegirlsnightsout
Angels Among Us
Can you have a profound experience and use lyrics from a country song to describe it? Probably not. But I'm going to anyways.
The legendary country group Alabama's song "Angels Among Us" says "Oh I believe there are angels among us, sent down to us from somewhere up above. They come to you and me in our darkest hours...to guide us with the light of love." These are the words that filled my mind tonight as I thought about the surprising way I felt during sacrament meeting just a few hours ago.
Why this occurred I have absolutely no clue. Let me set the stage to prove this was entirely unexpected. First, I wasn't enraptured with sacrament meeting like I should have been. I was fidgety; for some reason, I just could not sit still. It was so bad that I had to entertain myself on Instagram. Second, I was fasting about using my time more wisely. Basically, this is to say that I was not fasting about anything significant or related to what happened later. Plus, my emotions weren't intensely involved in my fast. Basically, I wasn't thinking I would have a significant spiritual experience. Third, I feel great about life. I'm content. I feel more joy and peace than I ever have. I don't really care about dating nor am I sad that I'm not dating someone. I am at peace. All of these show that I was thinking I would survive the meeting without being fully invested and go have a lazy evening at home. But here is what happened nonetheless...
Today, during sacrament meeting, a young woman spoke as her "unofficial farewell" before she leaves for the MTC and then Brazil this week. However, because of the unique circumstances with Stake Conference two weeks ago, followed by the Ogden Temple dedication, and General Conference this next weekend, our ward had to squeeze in Fast Sunday along with this girl's talk/testimony. When she finished, the congregation was invited to share their testimonies. At the very end of the meeting, a few of this soon-to-be missionary's family members shared their thoughts. Then, her sweet grandmother stood up. After struggling to walk up to the pulpit, she introduced herself, emphasizing her middle name and then turning around and pointing to her granddaughter still on the stage, who shared the grandmother's middle name, and said "this is a great day to be a grandmother."
All of the sudden I burst into tears. Which surprised me. I felt the spirit so strongly [I'm still tearing up as I type], which led to the tears. But the second feeling was confusion. Why in the world was I crying? What was happening to me? I wasn't even listening whole-heartedly to the testimonies because I was so antsy and hungry. There was absolutely no reason for me to have an emotional reaction to what was said. But the strong, warm feeling of love persisted. As I tried to figure out why I would be feeling that way, Grandma Davis came to my mind. Suddenly I just somehow knew that she was there with me and that she cares about me. I knew that the grandmother's words were a hidden message from Grandma Davis to me personally. "Britney, it IS a good day to be a grandmother." For the rest of the meeting, I felt her love so purely and strongly. Actually, I couldn't stop the tears and had to run out to the bathroom to get tissues. I don't totally understand what happened as I was balling while this grandmother talked, but I just knew that although my grandmother passed away several years ago, she is aware of me. She loves me and she is looking out for me. I knew in that moment that she was proud of me and going to help me get married and receive the desired blessings of my heart.
It's remarkable how thin the veil is. Despite this being a seemingly strange, far-fetched story, it was real for me. Although there was no tangible evidence of my grandma in that room, I know without doubt that she was with me and is personally watching over me. For me, it was a miraculous tender mercy. How grateful I am for Christ's sacrifice, that He was willing to die and be resurrected. Because of that, my grandma still lives. She can speak to me and show me that she is involved in my life, that she is one of those "angels among us, sent down to [me] from somewhere up above...[who comes to] me in [my] darkest hour...to guide [me] with the light of love."
The legendary country group Alabama's song "Angels Among Us" says "Oh I believe there are angels among us, sent down to us from somewhere up above. They come to you and me in our darkest hours...to guide us with the light of love." These are the words that filled my mind tonight as I thought about the surprising way I felt during sacrament meeting just a few hours ago.
Why this occurred I have absolutely no clue. Let me set the stage to prove this was entirely unexpected. First, I wasn't enraptured with sacrament meeting like I should have been. I was fidgety; for some reason, I just could not sit still. It was so bad that I had to entertain myself on Instagram. Second, I was fasting about using my time more wisely. Basically, this is to say that I was not fasting about anything significant or related to what happened later. Plus, my emotions weren't intensely involved in my fast. Basically, I wasn't thinking I would have a significant spiritual experience. Third, I feel great about life. I'm content. I feel more joy and peace than I ever have. I don't really care about dating nor am I sad that I'm not dating someone. I am at peace. All of these show that I was thinking I would survive the meeting without being fully invested and go have a lazy evening at home. But here is what happened nonetheless...
Today, during sacrament meeting, a young woman spoke as her "unofficial farewell" before she leaves for the MTC and then Brazil this week. However, because of the unique circumstances with Stake Conference two weeks ago, followed by the Ogden Temple dedication, and General Conference this next weekend, our ward had to squeeze in Fast Sunday along with this girl's talk/testimony. When she finished, the congregation was invited to share their testimonies. At the very end of the meeting, a few of this soon-to-be missionary's family members shared their thoughts. Then, her sweet grandmother stood up. After struggling to walk up to the pulpit, she introduced herself, emphasizing her middle name and then turning around and pointing to her granddaughter still on the stage, who shared the grandmother's middle name, and said "this is a great day to be a grandmother."
All of the sudden I burst into tears. Which surprised me. I felt the spirit so strongly [I'm still tearing up as I type], which led to the tears. But the second feeling was confusion. Why in the world was I crying? What was happening to me? I wasn't even listening whole-heartedly to the testimonies because I was so antsy and hungry. There was absolutely no reason for me to have an emotional reaction to what was said. But the strong, warm feeling of love persisted. As I tried to figure out why I would be feeling that way, Grandma Davis came to my mind. Suddenly I just somehow knew that she was there with me and that she cares about me. I knew that the grandmother's words were a hidden message from Grandma Davis to me personally. "Britney, it IS a good day to be a grandmother." For the rest of the meeting, I felt her love so purely and strongly. Actually, I couldn't stop the tears and had to run out to the bathroom to get tissues. I don't totally understand what happened as I was balling while this grandmother talked, but I just knew that although my grandmother passed away several years ago, she is aware of me. She loves me and she is looking out for me. I knew in that moment that she was proud of me and going to help me get married and receive the desired blessings of my heart.
It's remarkable how thin the veil is. Despite this being a seemingly strange, far-fetched story, it was real for me. Although there was no tangible evidence of my grandma in that room, I know without doubt that she was with me and is personally watching over me. For me, it was a miraculous tender mercy. How grateful I am for Christ's sacrifice, that He was willing to die and be resurrected. Because of that, my grandma still lives. She can speak to me and show me that she is involved in my life, that she is one of those "angels among us, sent down to [me] from somewhere up above...[who comes to] me in [my] darkest hour...to guide [me] with the light of love."
Sunday, September 7, 2014
A Mother Heart
A few weeks ago, my friend Kristen sent me this text; "I made the same thing for dinner tonight that I made the last time you came over. Kaitlyn [Kristen's four-year-old daughter] was eating and said 'Remember when Britney was here and I played dolls with her? That was SO fun.' I said, 'You have a good memory.' Kaitlyn said, 'I will always remember her. She was so fun. I wish she were here.' She loves you."
This text filled my heart. Into my mind came the words from Julie B. Beck's talk entitled "A Mother Heart." She said, "In my experience I have seen that some of the truest mother hearts beat in the breasts of women who will not rear their own children in this life, but they know that 'all things must come to pass in their time' and that they 'are laying the foundation of a great work.' As they keep their covenants...Covenant-keeping women with mother hearts know that whether motherhood comes early or late; whether they are blessed with a 'quiver full' of children here in mortality or not; whether they are left to carry the responsibility of parenthood alone - in holy temples they are 'endowed with power from on high' and with that endowment they received the promised blessings and are 'persuaded of them, and embraced them.'"
Possibly my favorite line comes next, "Every girl and woman who makes and keeps sacred covenants can have a mother heart. There is no limit to what a woman with a mother heart can accomplish."
I have despaired in the past about not being married and having children of my own. I have looked around with jealous eyes at my sister and best friends who take glowing family pictures because I desperately want that for myself, and it's a righteous desire, right?
But when I got Kristen's text, I realized how peaceful and content I am right now with the influence I do have. I have been blessed to love my niece and nephew, Lisa's beautiful boys, Kristen's children, Laura's darling James, and my students year after year. As I sat there thinking about the love I am experiencing as I get to be a part of these lives, I did not feel slighted at all. My 'mother heart' is full. This renewed my commitment to 'mother' my LIA students this year. Here they are...here's hoping I can pray on their behalf and influence them for good.
This text filled my heart. Into my mind came the words from Julie B. Beck's talk entitled "A Mother Heart." She said, "In my experience I have seen that some of the truest mother hearts beat in the breasts of women who will not rear their own children in this life, but they know that 'all things must come to pass in their time' and that they 'are laying the foundation of a great work.' As they keep their covenants...Covenant-keeping women with mother hearts know that whether motherhood comes early or late; whether they are blessed with a 'quiver full' of children here in mortality or not; whether they are left to carry the responsibility of parenthood alone - in holy temples they are 'endowed with power from on high' and with that endowment they received the promised blessings and are 'persuaded of them, and embraced them.'"
Possibly my favorite line comes next, "Every girl and woman who makes and keeps sacred covenants can have a mother heart. There is no limit to what a woman with a mother heart can accomplish."
I have despaired in the past about not being married and having children of my own. I have looked around with jealous eyes at my sister and best friends who take glowing family pictures because I desperately want that for myself, and it's a righteous desire, right?
But when I got Kristen's text, I realized how peaceful and content I am right now with the influence I do have. I have been blessed to love my niece and nephew, Lisa's beautiful boys, Kristen's children, Laura's darling James, and my students year after year. As I sat there thinking about the love I am experiencing as I get to be a part of these lives, I did not feel slighted at all. My 'mother heart' is full. This renewed my commitment to 'mother' my LIA students this year. Here they are...here's hoping I can pray on their behalf and influence them for good.
Friday, September 5, 2014
The Happiest Place on Earth
Today, I snuck away from work 15 minutes early to escape SLC before traffic hit. My dear friend Kellie Heap had an extra ticket to the Ogden Temple open house and invited me to join her and her parents for a tour. Initially, I wasn't planning on going to the open house because I already attend the temple once a week; I foolishly felt like I know temples decently well. But the invitation was there and Kellie's parents were supervising the volunteers and I could leave work early; the stars were aligning.
Breathtaking. The Ogden temple is the most beautiful temple I have been in. Where I got there, I asked Kellie's parents why they were rededicating the temple. They gently, but quickly, corrected me. It wasn't a rededication - they had completely torn the former building down and erected this new structure from scratch. The entire time we walked through the temple, I was in awe. For one, the artwork is stunning. One of my favorite paintings is that of a black young woman kneeling in a flowing white gown that is placed in the entrance to the women's dressing room. The other is Christ in his stark white robe, with his arms wrapped around two Native American children, against a luscious green forest. Then, the Celestial Room is beyond words, filled with intricate gold painting, gorgeously crafted chandeliers, and rich furniture. I could have walked through the temple over and over for hours.
But I was most surprised how I felt while there. Since it isn't dedicated, I thought it merely would be an architectural marvel. However, the entire time I felt an undeniable testimony pouring in to me. Actually, I do not know how to translate my feelings into words. Consistently throughout the whole temple, I felt an indescribable mix of warmth, happiness, peace, love, and sureness. At times it even brought the beginning of tears. I was most caught off guard by the emotions though in the temporary "visitor's center" staged in a nearby tent. We were just walking through because Kellie's parents wanted to show us where the materials had come from, but as I walked by the pictures, tears actually did fall for who knows what reason. All I know is that it was clear to me how much I absolutely love the temple. That is the pervasive feeling I felt while in Ogden today; I love the temple. I need the strength it brings to me. As I see even righteous individuals lose their testimony because of confusing societal trends, I realized today that the temple is my anchor. For me, I am happiest there. Some think the happiest place on Earth is Disney World; if only they knew.
Breathtaking. The Ogden temple is the most beautiful temple I have been in. Where I got there, I asked Kellie's parents why they were rededicating the temple. They gently, but quickly, corrected me. It wasn't a rededication - they had completely torn the former building down and erected this new structure from scratch. The entire time we walked through the temple, I was in awe. For one, the artwork is stunning. One of my favorite paintings is that of a black young woman kneeling in a flowing white gown that is placed in the entrance to the women's dressing room. The other is Christ in his stark white robe, with his arms wrapped around two Native American children, against a luscious green forest. Then, the Celestial Room is beyond words, filled with intricate gold painting, gorgeously crafted chandeliers, and rich furniture. I could have walked through the temple over and over for hours.
But I was most surprised how I felt while there. Since it isn't dedicated, I thought it merely would be an architectural marvel. However, the entire time I felt an undeniable testimony pouring in to me. Actually, I do not know how to translate my feelings into words. Consistently throughout the whole temple, I felt an indescribable mix of warmth, happiness, peace, love, and sureness. At times it even brought the beginning of tears. I was most caught off guard by the emotions though in the temporary "visitor's center" staged in a nearby tent. We were just walking through because Kellie's parents wanted to show us where the materials had come from, but as I walked by the pictures, tears actually did fall for who knows what reason. All I know is that it was clear to me how much I absolutely love the temple. That is the pervasive feeling I felt while in Ogden today; I love the temple. I need the strength it brings to me. As I see even righteous individuals lose their testimony because of confusing societal trends, I realized today that the temple is my anchor. For me, I am happiest there. Some think the happiest place on Earth is Disney World; if only they knew.
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| Secret confession: I've never been a chandelier fan but these have made me a believer. This is the Celestial Room. |
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| All hand carved. Bless his soul who carved this granite and marble. |
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| If I ever get married...? |
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Wicked Good
Thursday morning started off as a 7 on a scale of 1-10 for greatness. Granted, I was working on schedules, calendars, arranging service projects, creating study skills lessons, and so on. Typically that would qualify as more of a 5 or 6. But, the fact that I was still working from home, able to wake-up whenever I wanted to, and still in leggings, it definitely ranked a 7. However, I wasn't getting paid for the necessary work so maybe that drops it down to a 6.
But then I got a text from my friend Ryan asking about my plans for the day. I had to admit that I was still working from home. Shortly afterward, he called me and invited me to see Wicked, the broadway play. I was lucky enough to be the one he called because it was a matinee showing and he couldn't find anyone else not working during the day. Score. My day just jumped up to a 10. Then, because I was taking his dad's spot, who had a meeting come up, it meant that a mature couple had purchased the tickets, meaning we had incredible seats. Wicked was wickedly good. And a dream of mine came true that afternoon. It would have to be a 20 on a 1-10 scale. #iamgratefulforfriendsandfornosummerjob
But then I got a text from my friend Ryan asking about my plans for the day. I had to admit that I was still working from home. Shortly afterward, he called me and invited me to see Wicked, the broadway play. I was lucky enough to be the one he called because it was a matinee showing and he couldn't find anyone else not working during the day. Score. My day just jumped up to a 10. Then, because I was taking his dad's spot, who had a meeting come up, it meant that a mature couple had purchased the tickets, meaning we had incredible seats. Wicked was wickedly good. And a dream of mine came true that afternoon. It would have to be a 20 on a 1-10 scale. #iamgratefulforfriendsandfornosummerjob
The Nest Effect
When you are 28 years old, female, and the largest space that "belongs" to you is your classroom, you feel a compelling desire, no...need, to make that space more habitable.
Here is the result:
Here is the result:
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| The student center - all the supplies are more organized this year in the white bookshelf. And that green chalkboard won't remain blank...hopefully. As my LIA students complete their outside service hours, they will fill it with hearts. This is the before pic. In 9 months, check back for the after pic. |
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| Just love birds. But not real ones. |
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| I've tried for years to recognize students' birthday and failed each time. I'm hoping this permanent whiteboard will force me to write them down, notice them, and get the students singing 'Happy Birthday' to each student. |
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| Why have a coat rack in your classroom you ask? I'm hoping this will enable my LIA students to wear their shirts each time we tutor. Each LIA class is represented by a different-colored hanger. Each hanger is numbered and will correlate to a student. When we go tutoring, students will pick up their shirt and put it on. Then, when we return to the school after tutoring, they will hang it back up. Even better news is that our school has a washing machine and dryer I can use to keep them sanitary. This is me attempting to out-smart my students. Success is TBD. |
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| The college corner. My two degrees are posted on the wall too - the only place they are useful. |
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| Dear family, each one of you is featured in a picture here, although my mother is concerned she is not. |
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| That quote that you can't see is my attempt to brainwash my students into being kind to each other. Thank you Audrey Hepburn for your wise words of advice. |
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| The infamous numbered hangers. Evidence that I have Type A tendencies. |
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| Adding a touch of fun to the classroom. Students can play words with friends and mark down places they've been and want to go on this map. Yet to come is a boggle board and a Twitter feed. |
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| The LIA center. |
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| Seriously - these books are good reads. |
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| Look closely - my love for fake birds and owls is evident. |
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| Just had to do something to the hideous desk, which I'm hoping isn't hideous anymore! Thank you JoAnn Fabrics for your chevron-print burlap. |
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