7 Days.

"Mom! Mom! Mama Sandy, I need you!"

 

I walked to the back table where a group of girls were working on their writing assignment.

 

"How much time do we have left?" my curious one asked frantically.

 

"About ten more minutes on this assignment," I replied, checking my watch.

 

"No! No, how much time do we have left this school year?"

 

"Fourteen more days of class and then exams. Which means you only have seven more days with me [these are my academic babies which are on an A/B day schedule]."

 

The entire room got quiet. One of my girls yelled from the other side, "What did she say?"

 

"You have fourteen school days until exams, which means you only have seven more days with me," I said.

 

"Mama, come here. Bring it in." One of my girls opened her arms and asked me to come over. She wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my stomach.

 

This little girl was a rough one. I didn't see her smile for the first two weeks that I worked at Trojanburg. One day I complimented her outfit and I saw a little grin and I knew there was life in there, after all. I complimented and encouraged my way into her trust and have worked hard to stay there.

 

As she was "having emotions"  with her arms wrapped around me, one of my boys said, "I forgot to give you this!" and handed me a stack of quiz corrections. A boy who failed first quarter with a 51% is now staying after school every Tuesday and Thursday to do everything in his power to pass my class and pass it with flying colors.

 

Another girl pulled out her signed progress report and handed it to me. "Extra credit for me!" she squealed. I teared up a little bit as I looked at her progress report. She had drawn a picture of the two of us at the bottom of her report; we were holding hands and smiling big smiles. That wasn't the part that made me tear up, though. It was the grade of 100.3% that got me. She didn't pass one of the quarters (I forget which one) and I had been told by another teacher that she was "lazy" and "wasn't worth any extra effort." But I know this little girl as the child who scored the highest on her open-ended "Romeo and Juliet" test.

 

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I will be the first to list my flaws for anyone who will listen. I am not the best teacher; I have so much left to learn.

 

I once overheard my mom telling another teacher that she was thankful that I get put with the standard-level classes. I was surprised because I fancy myself an Honors teachers. I feel that I can get on the Honors level easily and challenge yet entertain them. I also like Honors level classes because they understand my sarcasm and laugh at my jokes. My mom went on about how patient I was and how nurturing. I scoffed at her comments as my mother being a mother -- she had to compliment me, it's what mothers do.

 

This semester I've started to take my mother's words more seriously. When I see 112% on Romeo and Juliet tests from the girl who isn't supposed to be worth her seat and 100.3% on interims, I think that I might be in the right place. When a boy who is a holy terror for my next-door neighbor says, boastfully, "I'm Miss Sandy's boy," I start to think that I might need to re-evaluate what I want from my students.

 

I'm not saying these kids are special because of anything I've done. But I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I'm a better human because of these kids.

1: "Mama Sandy. Your hair be frizz-a-licious today."

2: "That mean you be looking ratchet."

3: "Ha! Two ways to say the same thing...and you complain about our vocabulary!"

22 Days!

I am completely willing to make a fool out of myself in front of my children if it means that they will learn something that day.

I have used face paint, silly string, water balloons, word games, relay races, and scavenger hunts to get my children out of their seats and into the wonderful land of English class.

I decided to start incorporating more props and costumes into my lesson plans last year when I was working at Wildcat Academy. That was the first time that my feather boa made an appearance into my classroom.

To get my kids invested in our SAT vocabulary lists, I have them put together quick skits. They are given four or five words in groups and fifteen minutes to come up with a scenario and dialogue that includes their respective SAT words and definitions.

I begin my lesson by asking them to do something I do every day: channel their inner diva! I put on my Jackie O sunglasses and toss on my boa and my babies know I mean business! It gets a few giggles out of them but I know they're paying attention. It hypes them up a bit to really want to match my level of enthusiasm about our group work for the day.

My inner diva was able to conquer today and last Friday (our academic kids are on an A/B day schedule) leaving only 22 days left for me to spend with them!

Day 25.

I do my best to be a positive human being. But sometimes, life has a way of knocking you down.

The last three weeks of school have been tough. My kids are fantastic; they have never been a problem for me. But grading is starting to stack up and I can feel myself getting overwhelmed.

I have barely slept a full night since school returned from Spring Break. When I get too out-of-whack, sleep is the first thing to go.

After (FINALLY!) falling asleep at 1:30 a.m. (my college self just laughed hysterically) on Wednesday night, I woke up quite unhappy on Thursday morning and didn't think I would be able to make it through the day. When I got to school, I saw the STACK of unorganized papers on my desk and I was feeling very paranoid about getting through my week.

As my first period was continuing our film unit, I Google-d "encouraging Bible verses" to try to pep talk my way through the day. I rummaged through my bag for a Sharpie and set a seal of Truth on my arm.

"The name of The Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe." Proverbs 18:10

Whenever my anxiety would spike or my to-do list would cause me to start hyper-ventilating, I would recite this verse in my head. I focused mostly on the "SAFE" part -- in case you couldn't tell from the bolded, capitalized letters. As all Beginning Teachers can attest, my contract with Trojanburg is up at the end of June and there's some question about how I will be paying my bills in a few months. However, Jesus has been more than faithful through my whole teaching process and in this moment, I am safe at Trojanburg. My bills today will be paid. I have a job now. Jesus tells me not to worry about tomorrow, and He is so enjoying teaching me that lesson.

Today, my kids are with me, we are learning and happy, and I am SAFE.

Love & Laughter

I was running around between classes today to get my books set up and my worksheets out of the printer when I felt a hand grab my arm. One of my children, one of my girls, was on the other end of that hand.

"Ain't ya gonna say 'hi' to me?" She feigned a look of hurt.

"I'm just running a bit late, baby, I didn't see you." My child accepted that answer with a pair of rolled eyes. She swooped her hand down the rest of my arm as we both rushed off in opposite directions, maintaining contact as long as possible. I winced at the possibility that that might be the only human contact she received today.

A few moments later, I walked into my classroom and there she was, waiting for me. She winked at me, both of us knowing that it wasn't the correct class period for her to be in my four walls; both of us knowing that I wouldn't kick her out because she would only go when she was well and ready to and she felt safe with me, and I would never deny a child security. She turned to her friends and kept up her chatter. As I walked by her, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around me for a hug, just like every other day.

"Am I your favorite again today?" she whispered into my ear.

"You know it," I replied.

"But don't tell the others!" we whispered together, our little ritual coming to a close.

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One of my students handed me a Diet Coke can before school today. I crinkled my eyebrows, silently asking her what this was all about.

"You were here until 6 last night. Drink the Diet Coke." She flashed me a smile before twirling her way back to her desk, saying, "Love you, Sandy."

-------------------

My babies worked on a creative project today to go along with our "Romeo and Juliet" unit. My fourteen-year-olds were so excited to unravel the mysteries of Shakespeare that I convinced them were there. I promised them adventure,  love, peoples' lives forever ruined, and a few good jokes here and there.

As I walked around and monitored each group's reading, I overheard one of my children nudge her neighbor and say, "This is a good book. Me and Shakespeare get along just fine."

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A week ago, the entire faculty at Trojanburg received an email from our principal letting us know that a student of ours had passed away that morning in a car accident. A few of my students knew her. It was not an easy day for any of us.

When something awful and unexpected happens, it makes us re-examine the small things and realize they are important things.

I can count the number of times on one hand that I have had 100% attendance in all of my class. Those are the days that I came home the most tired. The difference that one more voice, one more body, one more child in the room can make has always amazed me.

Last Monday, I had 100% attendance.

I did not come home tired that day, however. Just the opposite. I came home with tears of joy in my eyes and a smile on  my face. I, unlike a few of my colleagues, got to see every single one of my children on Monday. On Tuesday, I again had 100% attendance. I had two days with all of my children.

Wednesday was the last day before Spring Break and I knew the kids were going to be a bit crazy. I was so excited for their energy to fill my classroom. Normally I dread a break in routine (children thrive on routine and it's so very difficult to keep my head -- and theirs -- on straight when that routine is interrupted) but I was relishing their laughter and their squeals and their chatter. Laughter and squeals and chatter meant that my students were alive and thriving. It meant that they were present and awake and with me.

At one point on Wednesday, I was supposed to have twenty-three students in my classroom. I looked up and counted thirty-five. Students from other sections had chosen to come spend their time with me, within my four walls. They were safe here. They were happy here. They knew they were loved here. I welled up a bit because I knew that it was a small gift that they didn't even register as a gift, but I would always hold it in my heart. During a week when so many of my colleagues were hurting and so many of students had lost a bit of their innocence, my kiddos gave me the best gift they had to give: themselves.

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I am unspeakably blessed. Undeniably so. I have more love in my life on a daily basis than most do in their lifetime. Last week did nothing but prove to me, once again, that the big things in life are actually the little things.

Like Friday night dinners with my family and a set of cousins who are my best friends. The people who make me laugh the most and the first people I turn to when I need to cry...

...a certain three-year-old who likes making silly faces at Aunt Reba and whose laughter lights up the entire world...

...summer days spent at the lake with my cousins and family, which are followed by summer evenings watching movies, eating junk food, painting each others' nails, and simply resting in the joy of belonging to and with one another...

...a reunion of my favorite people after a year of being apart. A weekend full of memories of the strangers who turned into family...

 

 

 

...or that moment when you realize just how glad you are that every member of your family is just as crazy as you are.

 

 

My all-time personal favorite though, are the little moments when someone chooses me to be with them in the room. Little moments where cousins come and sit down with you at church or an unexpected visitor shows up at my front door. The laughter of silent, inside jokes that can never be explained. The moment when a student picks you as their favorite teacher.

 

These small, irreplaceable moments are what makes up a person's soul.

 

"My soul is deep like the rivers." --Langston Hughes



Wolfpack Football 2012

I love football. I love football season. I love my Wolfpack.

This football season was a season of firsts.

This was the first out-of-state NCSU football game I've ever gone to. The season opener for my Wolfpack was held in Atlanta, Georgia and we were playing against the University of Tennessee. My dad grew up outside of Knoxville so us kids have half-heartedly pulled for UT for years. They were our number one pick for the SEC (that is, until I was introduced to Tim Tebow; I then started wearing blue). This game, however, our loyalty was completely with the red side of the stadium.

My extended family has talked about this game forever. This would decide the bragging rights at Christmas gatherings for the rest of time. It was huge for our tribe.

I somehow talked my best friend Josh in being my travel buddy to this game. The two of us packed up and flew down with my parents and met the rest of my family down there. Poor guy was stuck with some loud, crazy, opinionated people for an entire weekend.

Speaking of firsts, it was also Josh's first time flying. He didn't tell me this until we were on the plane.

Our weekend in Atlanta was a comedy of errors of sorts (blog post about this eventually -- ya know, six months later). The bus ride to the football stadium was no exception. However, we made it, and we headed to a catered Wolfpack Club dinner and to the fan zone to see family and friends.



Uncle J. Paul. Everyone (no exaggeration) in Big Orange Country knows him.



Ms. Denise. She and her husband, Mr. Stanley, have had season basketball tickets beside my family for years. I love cheering on "our Pack" with her!

The Bank of America stadium was no joke. I love that they even put our schools on their field.

The season opener wasn't as pretty as I had hoped (we lost, in every way imaginable) and it was a long flight home.

************************************

A few weeks laters, I woke up shaking with adrenaline. I couldn't understand why. It was a Saturday, I should be sleeping in. Then it hit me...

It was game day in Carter-Finley. It was the first day of college football in Raleigh. It was finally the day that I got to put on my red, curl my hair, paint my face, and scream obscenities that I would never say outside of those hallowed walls.

This was the first year that I paid for season tickets.

This was the first year that my little sister was drum major of the most dangerous marching band in all the land, the Power Sound of the South.

During one of the half-time shows I snuck downstairs and threw things at her while she was conducting. I'm sure she's so glad that I'm her sister.

This was also my little brother's first year playing in the Power Sound of the South. He switched to trumpet and has loved his time as a little baby freshman.

This was also the first year that both sides of my family attended football games. My Aunt Beth Ann, her husband Doug, and their two kids came down from Pennsylvania to see the family for Thanksgiving and were able to get tickets to the football game that week.

Somehow we even convinced Granny and Granddaddy to come to a football game. Hannah and Eden were running late and couldn't hop in this family photo, but we are a smashing group in red, are we not?



The game that Granny and Grandaddy came to was the Veteran's Day game. Throughout the game, our country's veterans and current military personnel were honored, which includes my Grandaddy. My sister also took on the role as lead drum major for this game!




My cousin Morgan also got to come to a game this year. To the best of my knowledge, this was her first NCSU football game. Her dad was a die-hard NCSU fan, but her mom is raising her as a Carolina girl; it hurts my heart, but I'm always glad to see her Back the Pack!



Granny and Granddaddy with their "bandchildren"



Aunt Beth Ann

This was the first season that my group of college friends hasn't been tailgating together. Since we've all graduated, no one can sneak us into the student section anymore and we can't get parking passes all together either. This was the first season that seeing friends in the stadium was truly special. Luke and Sarah came all the way from Virginia for a game (even though I know that hugging me was more important than watching the football game).

This football season was the first one in the last five years that I didn't have Ava Michelle in the stands with me. As a former roommate, co-leader, and a forever best friend, Ava Michelle and I have always bonded over a deep, deep love for our Wolfpack. Halfway through the season, Ava Michelle said "peace out America" and went to find new adventures on other continents. This was the last time I got to see her before she left on a jet plane.

My Hannie!

My Kelsey!

 

 

 

 

This year was also my sweet friend Allysa's first year on the dance team. I loved watching her shine and shake her groove thing this season.

 

I love you, sweet girl :)

 

This was also the first season that I can remember every. single. second. of our big upset game. Football is sometimes an out-of-body experience for me, and after I scream and squeal until I can't anymore, I forget the entire thing. Now, I've been in the stands for other big games but I can't tell you details. However, the FSU game from this season is a different story.

I walked into that game knowing we were going to win. I just knew it. As I watched my boys just crap around and not WANT the football, I got so angry. I have an alternate personality that can come out from time to time in the hallowed halls of Carter-Finley stadium. Football Reba does not always say nice things to the people around her. Football Reba wishes lots of ill-will on the refs  and any players who are not playing to their potential. Football Reba gets red in the face and spits a lot.

Football Reba came out in full force for this game. My mom usually tries to calm me down and tells me not to scream so loudly, but something in my manner must have told her that I wasn't playing around; she never once talked to me about my attitude.

I watched my Wolfpack come back from behind and hold onto the lead. I screamed and screamed until I couldn't scream anymore. The people in the stands around me that had originally been shying away from me and making faces at me were all of the sudden hugging me and screaming with me. As I ran up and down the aisle to attempt to get out all of my energy, people were high-fiving me and jumping up and down with me.

At one point during the game, I thought we had lost our momentum and were about to throw away our Cinderella story of a football game. I was lying face down on the concrete floor of the stadium in tears. My mom kept saying, "We're gonna win! We're gonna win!" I looked at her and hollered, "Don't you dare jinx this!!!" Praise the Lord and all of the gods of football that she didn't and my Wolfpack pulled it out!

During my post-game FREAK OUT, I turned around and saw Josh walking down the stairs towards me. When he tells the story, he says that he just followed the squeals to find me.

 
 




The best part about our FSU win? My pastor is a huge FSU fan. I made sure to text this picture to him after the game.

After the game, I went running out of the stadium to the parking lot where I knew I could find my brother and sister. I jumped into their arms in celebration and twirled them around for a cute picture.

As all good things do, football season came to an end. My Wolfpack went out in a hoopla of fireworks and cheers from the crowd. We said goodbye to the football coach of my college career, Tom O'Brien, and welcomed a new coach, Dave Doeren, with open arms. We lost our bowl game in Nashville and immediately started looking forward to what was promised to be a basketball season like we had never seen.
 

 

Here's the good news: Only 168 days until the 2013 football season opener :)

 

Our hearts ever hold you, N. C. State, in the folds of our love and pride.

I will also always hold this picture in the folds of my love and pride.



Becoming a TROJAN.

Jesus gave me a new big girl job.

Yes, yes, yes, He did.

In the morning of December 2nd, I received a phone call alerting me to the fact that a former colleague of mine had had a stroke and my expert substitute teaching skills were in need to take care of her children until a permanent solution could be found. Before dawn on December 3rd, I was up, showered, and on my way to Trojanburg.

For the last six weeks, the majority of each of my days has been spent planning, grading, and teaching at Trojanburg in this woman's classroom. The time I spent there served to remind me just how much I missed being a teacher, how much I loved it, and also gave me some perspective on how I could balance my life so that I could make myself an effective teacher but not lose my hair from the stress of it all.

These last six weeks have been a perfect transition back into the classroom.

Since I walked out of Wildcat Kingdom in June (my intuition telling me already that I wasn't going to be going back), I have prayed as specifically as I could about my teaching career. I told Jesus that I was going to take some time off to recuperate from my first year. He and I both knew that I needed some time to get my physical, mental, and emotional health back in order and we've used these last six months to do just that. While I've been taking my break, I prayed the following prayer almost every day:
"Jesus, You know how much I love my student children and you know how much I loved teaching. But we both know that I'd be okay with never going back into the classroom. My plan is to stay out of a permanent teaching position until You tell me to do so. Here's the plan: I will know that You're telling me it's time to try this whole teaching thing again when a principal calls me and offers me a position. Deal? Deal."

I've never applied for a job. Ever. Every job that I have gotten has started with an unannounced, unprovoked phone call asking if I would like to work for that company/family/etc. My dad and my grandfather both can claim this in their professional lives. I think that it is a true sign of God's provision and faithfulness; I also believe that spiritual gifts run in families so I don't think this is any coincidence. Knowing all of this, I didn't think it was too extreme to ask Jesus to be faithful one more time and allow me the security of being in His will for my career.

While I was teaching one day, the principal at Trojanburg came into my classroom and asked for my resume. I assumed it was to validate my stay as a long-term substitute. His response, "No, ma'am. We have a position opening in January and we're planning on giving it to you."

Jesus had decided it was time for me to go back to teaching.

You want to know the cherry on the top of this sundae of awesomeness? I've always wanted to be a Trojan. Always. Since I first walked into Trojanburg as a student teacher I wanted to be there permanently. If you had asked me at any point during my teaching career what my dream job was, I would have responded, "I want to go back to the Trojans and work with the 9th grade team."

Starting tomorrow, I will be the new 9th grade English and African-American Lit teacher at Trojan High.

Jesus is so, so good.