Currently Listening Coco By Colbie Caillat see related

home?

i've realized that i no longer understand a definition of "home."  i went back to geneva for thanksgiving, and stayed with my dad for the first time since he left.  neither dan nor jen have done that yet.  i ate thanksgiving dinner at my mom's house, went back to my dad's for dessert and seeing my extended family.  i drove past my old house (my mom moved out of the house we had lived in since 1993 this september) and almost cried.  i visited old neighbors.  when i was with my mom, i told her it was time for me to go home when referring to my dad's place.  when i was with my dad, i called my mom's place home.  and toward the end of my visit, i told everyone i was ready to go home, meaning baton rouge.  i realized that i haven't had a home in about 3 years.  i wonder if it is the moment that finally separates you from your family that finally makes you realize that there is no such thing as home. 

there's no place like home because there's no such thing.

a lot of people ask me what teaching here is like.  difficult.  frustrating.  sometimes hopeless.  but the moments of accomplishment, the moments where a student finally "gets it," the moments when a student smiles and lights up the room.  those are the moments i get out of bed for.  those are the moments that start to make me understand why i'm here.

the following is a poem written by someone who was at my summer institute.  i never met her, but her words describe much more beautifully my summer experience, and give a hint as to what i see and feel every day.

You sent me a post card
From your European vacation
That you got for graduation
When you arrived in Portugal.

I get it in my mailbox
At 6:50 to a school bus
Lugging
a thousand pounds
Of books and hopes
Of Do Now dreams
Of future things
That I now fight
for my students
to own.

In my bag
Lugging now with me
A thousand pounds
of fears and worries
Of urgency and a step that's hurried
Because time is now more precious kept
Than it has ever been.

"I
Wish
You
Were
Here."

I gaze off into sandy beaches
Of the world's farther reaches
Wondering what that life teaches
And thinking to myself-
No.
No.
I wish you were here.
I wish you were here

So you could see
Around the closed doors
And closed eyes
That make my students compromise
Dreams that many of us
Took for granted
Dreams that many of us were handed
Gift wrapped
Poverty slapped
Lacking for books,
Not for brains
Worn seams and stains
Walking home alone in the rain
Every single day.

I wish you were here
So you could see
The birth
the worth
the risk to dream
gleam
in the dark
spark
from "I'm stupid"
to I'm not only smart
but I am ready to start
I am ready to start
working,
because I've got a plan.

That sheepish smile
that says "I get it"
that makes your insides feel
like if you let it
they might just light on fire
with pride
they might just ignite
and you'd glow from the inside
out.
oh how

I
wish
you
were
here.

…and I might have been envious
Of your endless summer
But at 5:45 I cannot stop and wonder
What city you are in
Or what things you've photographed,
when we see our students map futures
Instead of following maps.
I will no longer wonder
If you are sleeping in
Because the time is now my friends
to begin.

So when people ask us,
What we are doing with our summer
Who we are going to be
What we are going to make
You tell them
With pride my friends
At any dinner party
At any double date
We make
Eyes wide
With futures now newly considered
We make minds wide
With potential dreams that defy fate
We make mind's eyes perceive
Future schemes
That even the grandest of challenges
can no longer negate.
Plans.
Saying always now, "I Can"
Doctors, lawyers, vets, architects-
Together we make
Hope appear.

Oh,
How I wish
You had been here.

-jaclyn suffel

I'm six weeks into teaching.  Never in my life have I done anything so difficult.  The part I'm struggling most with in all my teaching is not the actual teaching: the lesson plans, the speaking to my kids, the starting good relationships with my students, the content I am teaching, even the special education paperwork.  Don't get me wrong, those things (especially when they are all thrown at me at once) are damn hard.  And originally I thought it was going to be gaining my students' trust and respect (Are they one and the same thing?  That's another question for another time...) that would be the most difficult, but even that is starting to be pieced together really well.  When it comes down to it, it's the investment that is hitting me the hardest. 

How am I supposed to show my students what it means to get an education?  How am I supposed to show them the endless opportunities that are available to them in the future, if only they put in the hard work now?  How am I supposed to show my 16 year old eighth graders with learning diabilities of all sorts that reading a book on a third grade level WILL help them; that it is all the baby steps that we have to work with?  How am I supposed to do all this, while the instant my students leave the school each day (if they even come to school to start with) they are surrounded by people who are making thousands of dollars a day selling drugs, and who appear to be "successful"?  How can I redefine their vision of success, and how it really can be attainable?

Another issue is rules.  I have an interesting relationship with rules.  Being one who enjoys finding the exception to every rule, and trying to make myself the exception to every rule in the book, I look back at where I am and realize that it is following the rules that has largely gotten me to where I am today.  Well, maybe not where I am today, but definitely my life up until college.  I followed the rules about doing my homework on time, and studying for tests, I joined all of the acceptable extracurriculars, I was friends with all of the right people (who also followed the rules, for the most part), I (almost) never skipped school, and the list goes on.  Once I got to college, I started thinking outside the box, and realized that there was a world out there beyond my comfort of following the rules, and enjoyed not having many anymore. 

Fast forward to now:  I am back in school each and every day, where rules play a big part.  I find myself enforcing rules that I do not necessarily agree with, because they are required by my administration, and thus at least have to appear to be supported by me.  I am stuck between knowing that following so many of those rules built the foundation that led me to be at least relatively successful (and more importantly, happy) today; and thinking that some rules are so petty and irrelevant that I don't even want to bother with them.

This rambling makes more sense in my head.

hebrews 11:1

the reality of my situation is that i am responsible for the learning of approximately 25 special education students, most of whom are over-aged for eighth grade.  many of whom are reading and writing between a 1st and 3rd grade level, some lower.  yet, some mornings when i wake up, and several moments throughout my days, i get little glimpses of hope.  is that crazy?  maybe so.

faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see.

i'm counting on it.