Teens Teach: Surviving middle school. And Life.

I was looking at old pictures this morning when I came across this one. 35 weeks ago I survived my first week of middle school at a new school. I remember how tired I was in that picture and how much self doubt I had. Could I really make it through a year? I felt like the challenges would be too great. The demand would be too much.... and could I really make an impact on these kids.

Now here I am 35 weeks later. 4 weeks left of school! I can't believe how fast the school year has gone. Truly. There have been some exhausting weeks and evenings. Hard conversations with students and teachers. Battles. Wars. Feelings of helplessness. Then there is the good, too; smiles and laughs, good discussions, and times of transparency.

In the end, this is what I've learned:

1) Sleep. Sometimes this is the most important thing you can do for yourself. For me, this was the difference between crazy and insane. In today's, "get more work done" mentality, we have learned "Productivity!" It's preached over and over... but honestly, sometimes sleep is THE MOST productive thing you can do for yourself. It is self care.... and it keeps you (me) from going insane. I've learned to embrace my sleep and make it a serious priority. While my students may love Zombie teacher, I sure don't.

2) Lean into the awkward. We are a kind of people that hate to feel awkward. We speak it out loud when we feel it.... so as to make it less "awkward." How many times have you been in a conversation when there is a small pause so someone says, "awkward"? As if somehow speaking out loud the awkward breaks the awkward. One thing my middle schoolers remind me of every day is that we ARE awkward. Middle schoolers are more awkward at that time of life (trust me, I see it every day!), but really... WE are just awkward people. I've watched kids try and fight their awkwardness but, it makes them more awkward. So all this to say, embrace your awkward self, awkward moments, and don't try and cover them up by saying "awkward". Just lean into it and see what funny moments come. Usually, it's those moments that draw us all a little closer together. 

3) Hard Sucks. But it's Good. Every teacher on the face of the earth can relate to me when I say that teaching is hard work. It drains you emotionally, physically, mentally, and the list goes on. I'm sure that is to be said for most jobs. In middle school, the hard moments just look a little different. Snot on desks. The question: "Why?" over and over and over and over again. Blank stares. The statement: "I don't get it." My voice on repeat all day long. You get the idea. I feel like I come home often praying that I have made a difference that day. Then I get to the end of the year and look back on all the growth in my students and I realize, the fight for good is always worth it. People are worth it! It's hard, but it's good. Isn't it so true that the hard always makes it that much better? All I am saying is press through because there is beauty in every hard thing.

4) Love. This last lesson is by far the greatest lesson I learned this year. WE all just need a little love. I had so many conversations with students this year about how they feel like no one cares. Blame it on social media, culture, America, whatever you think, but I truly believe that kids feel more isolated than they ever have before.  Kiddos walk into my class and they are broken little people that don't know how to love because they haven't been shown it. I have been reminded many times this year that no one wants to be given up on. We all want to be loved no matter how many times we mess up or don't give love back. We all just want to feel like someone knows us so give it back, even when it hard or awkward, or even when it's the last emotion felt. 

Plus, to be cheesy, I totally believe that LOVE changes the world! 

It is pretty incredible what little, tweener middle schoolers teach me every year and it's even more incredible how middle school is the training ground for real life. Really, we are all just big middle school kids trying to do the best we can in this playground of life.  

Healthy Competition

Sisters. 
That is the topic for today.
If you have one, maybe you will understand. If you don't, then I'm not offended if you close the page right now.

Growing up, my sister and I NEVER got along. I mean NEVER. I was 5 years older and thought I knew everything. She was determined to not be told what to do. We fought, we bickered.

"You can't do that!"
"Wanna make me!"

There are a few pictures of us, like the one below, where the moment looks happy. I'm sure we had a few of them, but for the most part, I remember fights and I think she would say the same.

The older we got, the more we just stuck to our own thing. She did sports. I did the arts. I eventually went to college and because of our age difference, we still had little to talk about. It wasn't until we lived in separate states that we started to realize the gift that sisters could be.

As we moved into adulthood, our differences were fewer and our commonalities grew. I started to realize that siblings are the backbone to our identity. They remind us of where we came from, who we were and who we are. Siblings keep us from forgetting; good and bad. What a beautiful gift.

Through the seasons, my sister and I have been close and then not as much. It is an ebb and flow. Yet one thing that I LOVE right now, in this season of life, is that even though we live VERY different lives, we have found a commonality. It took us 27 years to find it, but progress is everything, right? It's a healthy competition. A motivator for both us. It's called YOGA. It is something that I have always been interested in and recently, my sister has grown to love it too.

My sister killing a headstand. 

In the past, competition was something that separated us. It was the dividing wall. Perhaps  it's just called immaturity, or simply, we have grown up. Either way, my sister and I have found a healthy balance of using yoga to push each other and to challenge each other to be better, healthier, stronger. It's been a fun hobby to share. Most of all, though, it keeps us talking, it keeps us engaged, and it keeps us exploring the bond of sisterhood. 

What do you share with your sister?

How do you keep the bond with your siblings alive and well? I'd love to hear!

Me. Enjoying the great outdoors and a good stretch.

I'm looking forward to the next time my sister and I are together so we can yogi together!

Mandy, you better be ready because I'm going to bring my hardest poses. ;)

What I learned after a chair ate my face

The other evening I had an unfortunate mishap where my face (particularly my eye) met the corner of my chair in a rather harsh way.

Blood. Swelling. Awesome. (Sarcasm). I mean, really? How annoying, right?

It wasn't until the next day when I found out I needed surgery that my annoyance turned into frustration and fear. Surgery? How important are tear ducts, really? ...Or as a matter of fact, tear ducts, while they seem small and insignificant are actually quite important to the make up and function of the eye. Who knew?! Without them, I guess the flowage and drainage of liquid gets really messed up (do you like my doctor lingo?!) and it can significantly impact the eye's vision. Cool.

Needless to say, I went in for surgery last Sunday night where the Ocular Plastic Surgeon was able to reconstruct my tear ducts and stitch my face back together. The surgery was quick. I was in and out of the hospital within 6 hours. Simple.

It was the next 24 hours or so after surgery that wasn't so simple. It is incredible how fragile and resilient the body can be at the same time. While my eye was working over time to heal itself, the effect of the anesthesia coupled with pain meds knocked my body out. I was literally a limp and helpless girl that depended on others for EVERYTHING. Food, water, drugs, walking (yep to the restroom too) etc.

I needed others.

No matter how much I wanted to do it on my own; to be strong, to NOT need others, the hard fact was that I couldn't do it on my own. I was a pathetic, helpless 30 year old.

The cool thing about needing others was as I watched my friends take care of me, I got to see a part of them that I wouldn't have gotten to see if I didn't need them.

Their ability to sacrifice, love, care, provide, encourage, and nurture. All of these characteristics I knew were somewhere within my friends... but I got to see the beauty of each of these characteristics in action.

and now I see my friends in a new light.

and I'm sure they see me in a new light too.

It's interesting. As I laid on the couch I thought about this need for each other in terms of my torn out tear duct. Go with me for a second... the tear duct was something small that effected so much of my vision without me even knowing it -----> I think that is how we are with needing each other.

We need each other. It seems like such a small thing... to need each other.
But when we don't have each other, it affects our entire vision
of everything.
And we miss out on the beauty of TRULY seeing each other.

So I guess the next time your face gets eaten by a chair... or something less extreme happens, lean into someone. Allow yourself to NEED them.

It will change your vision.

Let Go: of what you hope for

Waiting. For kids, it is nearly impossible. For adults, sometimes it seems like it's all we do.

Granted, there is this anticipation in waiting like when a little kid has to wait weeks on end before opening up a Christmas gift. The waiting, starring, and shaking of the box makes the gift that much bigger and better once it is finally opened. Then there are other times when waiting keeps you up at night and turns your stomach into knots. It's not the kind of waiting that sits in the pit of your stomach like eager butterflies anxious to flutter away. Instead it's the "I'm going to be sick" kind of waiting. You think, God, I hope you've got this because I'm not sure what I'm going to do if you don't. Yet even still, deep down in the deepest part of you, you know he does have it and so you keep waiting... for something, anything.

I think that is what I've watched my dad go through in the last few months. Waiting. At times I'm sure he was the anxious little kid waiting to unwrap his Christmas gift and then there were other times when the "I'm going to be sick" feelings started to creep in. To be honest, I watched nervously wondering when he would crack but instead he just kept waiting.

"Wait, it's August and you need a job by the end of the month?! What are you going to do? What's your plan B, dad?" I asked.

He always replied, "I have no plan B." Even in the midst of his uncertainty, he was certain that God had it figured out.

And of course, God did.

Like he always does when you trust Him and let go.

The present might not look the way we expected it to. Sometimes the present is smaller, more fragile. Other times we look at it and we think, how am I ever going to use this? I don't need this! But even after we unwrap it, whether it is exactly what we hoped for or not, we know in the pit of our stomach that somehow it will be exactly what we will need and we will know when to use it. We just have to figure out how to let go of what we hoped for and embrace what we have been given.

My dad let go of what he thought his life was supposed to look like; how he imagined career choices would turn out. He let God do his thing and of course, right on time God gave my dad a job that is a perfect fit for him. He just had to wait.... and let go...

Love you, Dad. I'm excited to see how God will use you in this next adventure!
 

When we let go of what we hoped for and we take hold of what we have been given... the gift is greater than we could of ever dreamed.

Goal:

What is one thing in your life that you expected or hoped would be different?

(Motherhood, adult friendship, finances, career choices, marriage, God, feeling alone, etc.)

 

Let go of what you hoped for...

 

And challenge yourself to love what you are given.

and if you are waiting...

remember, the waiting makes the gift that much better. 



Connect

Have you ever found a hobby that you really enjoyed, and so for a while you go all in and you enjoy it simply because you lose yourself (or perhaps find yourself) in the hobby? Then there comes a time where you realize that other people enjoy the same hobby... and you start to realize other people are better at it than you. Comparison. Eventually, the comparison eats you up and sadly, you end up not enjoying what you loved in the first place because you are more concerned with being good at it rather than just finding yourself, or losing yourself in it.

That is the place I have come to with this blog. So many times in the last few weeks I have thought that I just want to quit. I want to stop writing.... because, of course, in my mind I want to be a brilliant writer like Donald Miller, Ann Voskamp, or Brennan Manning... and then I read back through my writing ...and the disappointment sets in because I realize I'm not a brilliant writer, I'm just Sheila. Kind of like those American Idol contestants who think they sound like Mariah Carey and then they see the replay and they hear themselves for the first time and they think, oh.. yikes.

I was sharing this frustration with my sister, who is also a blogger, and a few friends. Of course they were good to encourage me and to remind me that we are our biggest critique, but they also asked me some hard questions: why do you love to write? Why do you feel like you need to be good at writing in order to love it? Why can't you love it, even if it is just for yourself?

And so I sit here, contemplating those questions... and I don't think I have answers to all of them yet, but what I do know this:

I write because words and ideas connect people -they link us together -they bridge the gap. They challenge, inspire, and make us feel known... Life has it's ups and downs. There are times to laugh and love and other times to hurt and cry -words connect us to each other and through each other's experiences. So I write about the good and the bad, the dorky and corky, the love and the hate because I love to connect. We all live very different lives, but we feel the same pulse of life
{together}. We long to say, you feel that way too, you are going through that too, I thought I was alone. and we can't say that unless we use words to get us to that scary, vulnerable, leaning into the air kind of connection.

So I guess that is why I'm here, I throw comparison aside and I focus in on the one thing that keeps me writing

connection.

30

July 4, 1983 -That's my birthday. It's kind of a big one this year; moving from my 20s to 30s -like moving from barely an adult to a "legit" adult. So legit that my student said the other day, "well just think of it this way, I'm half your age!"

A big birthday comes and I can't help but reflect...

There is a part of me that feels like I haven't accomplished as much as I thought I would. I don't own a home. I don't have kids. I haven't gone back to school for a master's degree. And so I think, gosh I have a lot to do in my 30s.

Then there is this voice in the back of my head that reminds me of all the people I have met along the way and all the places I have gone. The voice reminds me that life is simply a big story that God weaves together; friendships, circumstances, life lessons, hardships, blessings, careers, and amazing experiences - all of this is brought together to mold us into who we will be and to draw us closer to Him. It's not about when we get from one chapter to the next, but rather, how we get from one chapter to the next and who helps us get there.

So as my birthday comes and goes, I will think about all of you friends and family who have been a part of my life, perhaps for just a season or for multiple. You have taught and shown me who I am. Also, whether you know it or not, you have helped me to learn more about God.

In essence, you have made and are still making my life.

I may not have accomplished as much as I would have wished, but my life is full and colored because of incredible friends and family.

Thankful for you,
S

A Menacing Dog

Running.

I hate it.

Yet, for some reason I got this crazy idea to go for a jog.
In South Carolina.
In the heat and humidity.

You know those times where you feel restless and you know you need to do something or your mind might go a little crazy? Like you just need to get up off the couch or get out of the house and just do or be but you aren't quite sure what to do or who to be. It was that feeling that lead me to go for a run. (Did I mention in the heat and humidity?)

I laced up my tennis shoes, plugged my ears with Taylor Swift and hit the road running. To be honest, the first 15 minutes or so was not so bad. I found a tolerable stride and the change of scenery felt energizing.  I felt so good that I even considered how I might have given jogging a bad rap. As I rounded the corner to come back up the street, I realized why jogging felt so nice. I was running down hill the entire time. Suddenly, as I struggled to run up the darn hill, running reverted back to this hate relationship in my mind. I was not a fan. I pushed forward for a few more minutes, but I quickly ran out of stamina and slowed to a walk. Just as I caught my breath, I looked over my shoulder to find a dog running towards me. This was not a nice, fluffy looking dog. Nope, it was a mean, "I'm going to tackle you" looking dog. And yes, there I was running again.

In the midst of running from this menacing dog, it came to mind that just a few seconds earlier I thought I could not run anymore and so I gave up. I simply stopped. Yet, there I was. Running. I was doing exactly what I thought I couldn't do. It's not like the running magically got easier. Running was still hard, but it wasn't unbearable. It took effort and focus, but I was capable.

I just needed a little reminder: keep going. You are stronger. Don't give up. You can do it.

And I could. And I did.

As I sat down on the front steps of the porch, feeling accomplished, I wondered how many times in my life I quit when I could of kept on going. And then I wondered how many times I kept on going when I should have quit. But isn't that life; all the "what ifs" and instead of getting a little crazy over them, I simply remember the moment where a menacing dog chased after me and I remember:

Keep going. You are stronger. Don't give up. You can do it.

Weak or Strong

I knew this man who took pride in being strong. He would often say in a strong, unwavering voice, "Don't be weak." As if he was reminding himself just as much as he was demanding it of me.Yet, I always sensed that underneath it all, he was simply scared that if he let down his guard he would crumble. As if he knew that if he let himself have a moment of weakness, he would shatter into a million pieces and he would never be able to put himself back together. It was almost as if fear was what kept him strong.

I suppose in this man's eyes I would be considered weak. Really, if I'm honest, I am. I can't open a silly jar of jam. I can barely bench press the weight of the bar and I always cry when I see a Folgers commercial. You know, the commercial when the brother comes home for Christmas after serving overseas. He sneaks into the house and brews a pot of coffee to wake up the family. The sister runs down the stairs in anxious anticipation and it's right as they hug and the Folgers music begins to play that I always lose it. I am weak and I can't fight it. Anyway, it's ironic because as much as this man fought to be strong (and he did a great job of it), you could always see it in his eyes. You could see that he was tired of being strong and that, so badly, he wanted to let weakness overtake him for just a moment because being strong was exhausting.

The scary thing about weakness is that it makes us vulnerable. We think that weakness opens the door for more hurt and pain and yet, I wonder if it does just the opposite. Perhaps weakness teaches us about strength. Perhaps weakness is strength. Maybe as we fight to be strong, we are missing out on all that weakness has to offer. Perhaps it opens the door to beautiful friendship, allows for God to work in ways that we could never imagine, and offers us rest that strength will never be able to offer.

As I think about the beauty that weakness may offer, it makes me want to embrace it all the more.  Even if it means that the Folgers commercials will continue to get me every time.

Lessons

One of the things I have always loved about teaching is that there is a distinct start and finish to each year. Teachers have the unique opportunity to measure growth and to evaluate areas where lessons have been learned (or, in some cases, are still being learned). As my school year is quickly coming to an end, I want to be intentional to reflect, so here are the top 5 lessons I have learned in the 2012-2013 school year:

5. Communication is key to any relationship/friendship. I think this is a lesson I will always be learning. Ignoring, bottling, hiding, or trying to push aside important thoughts and feelings will only work for so long and then it spills out into a mess. Communicating is often times very difficult, but it is the most powerful way to draw someone close or push them away.

4. Don't make assumptions. It is easy as a teacher to make grand assumptions about the intentions, or lack thereof, of my students. A pencil flies through the air, an assignment doesn't get turned in, a sarcastic comment is made and it is easy to assume the worst. However, most of the time students aren't being spiteful, they are just being junior high kids. This reminds me that most adults are the same way. Most of the time we don't mean to offend or hurt others, we are just adults doing our best to make it. Assumptions about motives just make life even more painful.

3. Keep an open heart. Sometimes tough lessons must be learned; it's part of life. The test comes with how the lessons are received. Most of the time I am stuck in my ways. I will admit, it's hard to show me when I'm wrong and I'm a challenge to teach new things to. This year I have learned that the more my heart is open to others, the more colorful and joy-filled my life can be. Relationships grow, perspectives change, the light at the end of the tunnel shines a little brighter.

2. Dance when your day looks sad. Perhaps it's just me and my goofy love for dancing, but really, some of the hardest days I have had this year have turned into some of the most memorable simply by turning on a little music and busting a few moves. It's really hard to not have a smile on my face when I am busting an awesome dance move. I guess, perhaps, the bigger lesson within this lesson is to look for opportunities to laugh, especially in the midst of a hard or stressful day. Life is too short to not laugh.

1. Ask. Friends, acquaintances, co-workers, students. etc.. they all have something they want to talk about. When I tutor students, the first thing I ask them is, "What was the highlight and lowlight of your day?" It is amazing what my students will tell me; the hurt in their lives, the exciting moments, the normal and regular days, the random things on their mind. They are simply waiting for someone to ask- to genuinely show an interest in their lives- because isn't that what we all want? For someone to genuinely care about the highs and the lows in our lives.

Life is funny. As I look back at these lessons, I realize that they aren't quite earth-shattering or deeply profound. They are simple lessons. Yet, as I think about our lives, as we grow and change, I wonder if that is what growth and maturity is all about; having patience to learn and relearn the same simple lessons of life and to help one another learn them as well.