Cleverly disguised as an adult...

JP and I frequently joke that I am "cleverly disguised as an adult" and, it's pretty true. I get along well with my ten year olds. I enjoy playing with them at recess, acting silly, making jokes and generally not taking things too seriously. At a recently held school Valentine's Day dance, I was the only teacher in attendance, and certainly the only adult doing ballet around the room to a slow song (Never Grow Up by Taylor Swift) with students - never mind the fact that I have absolutely no idea how to correctly perform any ballet dance move.

While it's fun to goof around act like a little kid sometimes, there are certainly child-like qualities that one would prefer not to possess as a "grown-up" who is 24 years of age. I must admit that I have a little more in common with my students than I usually care to discuss.

Last Friday we took a practice test for the looming writing SOL test. The kids spent the day responding to a prompt in the form of an organized five paragraph essay. After over an hour of time, one sweet little boy had not begun. When another teacher talked to him about getting started his response was solemn, "I'm not going to pass the writing test anyway. There's no point in trying." Of course, we explained to him that he's a competent student, fully capable of passing the test next week. He struggled to believe this truth about himself, and to actually put forth any effort. I was initially frustrated with him, as, he really is able to pass and then, I became saddened by his low self esteem. After a while, I was humbled, to realize that this is just another way I am exactly like my students.

When I was younger, I loved to sing. I was in my church choir, school musicals, even show choir. (Yes, I did wear a sparkly silver dress as I danced around a stage to show tunes). I also loved acting. I took beginning drama through advanced in high school, and competed in district, regional and state competitions with a One-Act play entitled Blues. I played three roles, a New York employment worker (accent and all :D), a mentally disabled homeless woman, and a poor single mother in a rat infested apartment. I loved acting, just as I loved singing.

When I started college at UVA, something happened. I went to an interest meeting for FYP (First Year Players, a musical group on grounds). I wanted so desperately to be in another play, to be on a stage acting, portraying another character. I looked for a monologue, and practiced a song from a high school musical, but I never tried out. I also went to a meeting for an acapella group, but never auditioned. I was convinced that in a place like UVA, a school composed of students from such high achieving backgrounds, that someone like me - a country girl from Nelson County, VA would never be cast in a play, or make it in an a capella group. Like my student, I gave up before I even started.

I wish I could say that I was older and wiser now, but I'm not. I continue to be afraid to take risks, to go after things I want. I'm so desperately afraid of failing, that I don't even make an attempt at success. I do this with friendships, my career and my Christian life. I worry that someone won't like me once they get to know me, so I become withdrawn and don't put myself out there. I am afraid I might be rejected if I pursue a career shift, or new opportunity. I also get so worried about making a wrong decision and disappointing God that I end up in a sort of paralysis and can't move forward.

Again, I ask, why is it so difficult for me to believe for myself the truths I share with my students? How do they come out of my mouth so easily, but have so much trouble sinking into the depths of my soul? When will I "grow up" and learn these elementary lessons?

A new journal, a fresh start

I'm a person who loves fresh starts and new beginnings. I'm thankful that, in addition to new years that roll around every 365 days, we also have new months, new weeks, and even new days. I don't know about you, but I need to begin anew more often than each January 1st....

Recently, my husband gave me a beautiful journal, with flowers full of color and blank pages just waiting to be filled with thoughts and ideas. I am still wrapping up the final pages in my old journal, but am so excited and full of anticipation for beginning the new one. The old journal is just that - old. It has pages with scribbled words, written in haste due to a lack of time. There are pages with messy "scratch outs" because I made an error in pen that couldn't be erased. It's also something I've had for many years, and even the cover seems dated. It doesn't reflect me or my personality, because I'm not quite the same person as when I bought it.

Many days at school, I have to remind my students that it's a new day. Whether they've recently received a poor score on a test, or had a day marked with bad behavior and a trip to the principal's office, they have difficulty shaking it and moving forward, past their mistakes. I explain to them, with love and compassion that they can let whatever it is go and have a new day. Yesterday doesn't have to define them.

Oh, how much I am like my students. It's easy to be the one saying "yesterday is over, it's done and forgotten". It's much harder to take that in and believe it as truth. I cling to my yesterdays, full of troubles, guilt, shame, and regret. I let them define me and who I am, sometimes to the point of it crippling me. Like my journal, I feel worn, full of "scratch out" mistakes, and a bit messy. I just want a new beginning, a blank page, a fresh start.

And just like I tell my students, the God of the universe reminds me, that this is available to me. I don't have to wallow in my old-journal mess, defined by the blemishes that mar the page of my life. God erases them.

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22-23

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone; the new is here! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ.." 2 Corinthians 5:17-18

Oh how wonderful that I am offered a new journal, a fresh start, each and every time I ask and turn to the Lord. My pages are made clean, without spot or blemish, and I am given new mercies each morning from God, who is faithful, even when I am not.

Superlatives

When I was in middle school, I won a yearbook superlative for "Most Talkative". This didn't surprise my parents, who had been called into school each year for conferences with my teachers about how to handle my incessant talking. It didn't matter who I sat next to, conversations ensued, and I made a new best friend (and annoyed my teachers). While I wished that I had won some "better" or "more important" superlative like Most Popular, or Best Dressed (not a slight chance at either), I remember feeling excited to be recognized for something.

Senior year superlatives were an even bigger deal. In middle school, there were numerous winners for each category, so you had to share the glory and fame of whatever title. In high school, one boy and one girl was selected for each, from the whole senior class, and, it was quite a big deal (or so it seemed then). I didn't really expect to win anything - I'd never thought of myself as a person who stood out. But, when they announced the winners over the intercom one day, I remember feeling surprised and excited when I heard my name. I was recognized. I was "somebody".

"Most likely to succeed: Mary Matthews"

Looking back on it now, I'm not sure what exactly that superlative even means. Best smile, best dressed, these made sense. But "most likely to succeed"? I suppose it meant that I got good grades, and my fellow classmates thought I was smart. It probably meant they thought I'd go to a good college, and end up with a good job.

Success is a funny thing, something hard to define. I don't think what college a person attends or graduates from makes them successful. I also don't think it has to do with ones job title or the number on their paystub. Some people do think this way. I was told by multiple people, "You're too smart too be a teacher" or "You're JUST going to teach?" I'd like to say those remarks didn't bother me, but, in all honesty, they were a blow to my pride. I missed the "oohs" and "ahhs" I received when I told people I was a biomedical engineering major who planned to go to medical school. A religious studies major in the 5 year teaching program doesn't get the same reaction. Still, my identity, for so long, was centered around this superlative, and the performance and drive that had preceded it. I had to do great things and be something great. People expected it of me, I expected it of myself.

I feel like over the past 6-7 months, God has been working on breaking down my pride. I don't have to be "most likely to succeed" in the sense of impressing everyone else in order for him to love me, or in order for me to be a successful person. Success might look like loving one of my students when he or she really needs it and helping him or her in substantial, life-changing ways, not like getting them all to pass the SOLs. Success might mean putting my husband and family over my career, and not like winning the Golden Apple. It might look like eventually being a stay at home mom who loves my kids and husband with everything I've got, and not like having a fancy house or taking nice vacations or enjoying other "two income" luxuries.

Though I still am a bit unsure what success means, I know it has to do with following God, no matter where he leads, and NOT worrying about meeting everyone else's expectations.

Oh to be "Most Likely to Succeed" in that way.

Sick days as a teacher...

No one likes being sick. It's no fun having to lay around feeling miserable when there's not much you can do about it. Everyone hates all that comes with being sick....not having an appetite (although, that part isn't so bad when you hit the scales a few pounds lighter), eating bland foods, frequent trips to the restroom, or feeling like your head is about to explode.

However bad being sick is though, I promise, it's intensified when you're a teacher.

There are a lot of things I love about teaching. It's exciting to see a light bulb turn on for a student who has been struggling for a long time, and to make kids smile, laugh and believe in themselves. There are also many things I dislike. Planning and grading nights and weekends, never being finished or "good enough" and attending countless meetings are not high on my list of favorites. Of all the negative parts of the profession, being sick as a teacher is probably one of the worst aspects of the job.

When my husband is sick, if he feels like toughing it out, he heads into work. Sure, it's not fun having to be there, but he can sit at his desk, be a little slower/laid back, and get things done. If he's REALLY sick, he can call in from the comfort of the bed, turn off the alarm, and go back to sleep. This is how it is with many jobs.

When I'm sick, as I am today, I too have to chose between going in and staying home, but my options look a little different.

Option 1. Go to work, and try to get through the day. This comes with 23 children who, even with the best of intentions (when they in fact have good intentions) are a challenge. Picture having a headache, a sinus infection, sore throat, or some other illness, and having to manage and educate 23 little ten year olds. It's not easy, and patience wears thin... quickly.

Option 2. Take a sick day. To those on the "outside" of education, this may seem like the obvious solution. Think again. I do not have the luxury of calling in and saying "I can't come in today". I mean, sure, I can do that, but it must be done by 6am (which is before I normally even get up) and the phone call is immediately followed by lesson planning and scrambling to piece together something that a sub can follow, without me being there to make copies, and have everything neatly together. I have to explain where things are, articulate the tiniest details of the day so that (potentially) someone who has never set foot in my school can successfully manage the class. THEN I get the aftermath of dealing with all the insanity that occurred while I was out. Is this option still looking like the obvious choice?

There have been teachers in my building who have come to school at 7:00, with strep throat, to organize and get things ready for a sub, because it really is SO hard to do plans via email to the principal and when things aren't clear the teacher gets phone calls.

Many times I feel like it's easier to tough it up and go in and run my classroom myself than it is to get everything together for someone else to do it. I'm feeling crummy today, my throat hurts, especially when I have to raise my voice for my kids to hear instructions. I'm betting that by the end of the week I'll have to suck it up and make sub plans, but for now I'm trying to tough it out.

Take Three

They say "third time is a charm" and I hopeful that's the case. I've attempted to blog 2 times before, and failed to do more than an introductory entry each time. I don't know why. I love reading blogs and I also enjoy writing. Recently, I've been "modeling" writing for my 5th graders (who have a writing SOL test looming) and it's been a lot of fun! I hope to share more about the goings-on of the Mays family, as well as thoughts about teaching, marriage and books I read. I'm also working on starting a blog with my students, so I figured I should probably have one too. Here goes....