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Snow!  What do I do with it? Slosh around? Make a snowball? Shiver? 

Shivvvvvvvvvvvver. Lots! 

Last Friday, I shivered down the aisle of the plane that flew me from Harlingen, Texas to Minneapolis. As I stepped off, I was welcomed by COLD! I felt it, and I got one. Instantly!

Some smart guy once told me that the body takes approximately 21 days to adjust to a new climate. I thought, having lived in Yankee territory for the majority my life, I would be exempt. Turns out, I’m not. I’m just like everyone else who goes from a 70-degree climate, to 7-below one. COLD. Shockingly COLD!

Within an hour of my landing in the Twin Cities, my dear friend, Anna Leisa, picked me up from the airport and rushed me over to the place of a favorite college past-time. Now, I know what you may be thinking: the Purple Onion, Bordertown, Wilson Library, or Dunn Bros. You’re close, but not close enough! When I was a poor college kid, I rarely had more than $1.75 in my pocket.  But when I did, Emily and I would treat ourselves to a trip to the land of red and white…

TARGET!

This time, I purchased some things that would help me become reacquainted with the snow: mittens, hat, sweater, boots, jacket, and, of course, earrings. Well, those were just for fun, but I thought they would nicely accent the espresso-colored bridesmaid dress that I would wear the following evening… Heck! My dearest Chrissy Grue was to be MARRIED!  And so was JAMES!  In fact, they were going to marry each other!  It was going to be lovely, and so I would wear lovely earrings!

Can you spot them in this photo?

Emily, Sarah Anne, Anna Leisa and Alyssa

Emily, Sarah Anne (and the earrings), Anna Leisa and Alyssa

I was right! The wedding was awesome: a gorgeous bride… 

Chrissy (Grue) Schofield getting pretty!

Chrissy (Grue) Schofield getting pretty!

…a romantic first kiss for C & J Schofield (sorry, don’t have a photo for this one), a splendid swing dance with Nicole, an FTA (not to be confused with TFA – God forbid!) reunion, quick chats with the Robisons, Jamie, Ochuk & Rebecca, Gina, William, Lee and others, and, last but NOT LEAST, having my lovely amigas and  little sister as my very own “personal attendants.” (And yes, Bridesmaids need personal attendants, too!)

Alyssa attending to my hair, and Emily, criticizing. Thanks girls!

Alyssa, attending to my hair. Emily, criticizing. Thanks gals!

WHO COULD ASK FOR MORE? Not I! Thank you, Happy Couple, for getting married, and making the event possible! 

The Happy Couple (after the first kiss)!

The Happy Couple who made the event possible!

Congrats!

Note: To those who are asking for an update on my life as a teacher: IT WILL COME. I am just not ready to go there yet. I’m still digesting, and I’m still on break. Let me be on break! 

Coming soon:  ONE year has TWO semesters: 1 down, 1 to go and On being a (first year, 2nd semester) Teacher

T-Minus 121

The countdown: 121 days.  

It’s written in my calendar and on the chalkboard: “121 days left!”  For now, let’s go to T-minus 189 days; the first day of school.  

120 awkward and adorable, some intelligent, others, not so much, fresh 5th-grade graduates slowly filled the seats of Room 102 over the span of 9 class periods.  Over and over, I would say, “Welcome to 6th grade English: Writing con Ganas, with Ms. Slauson.”  Ms. WHO???  ”Yes, estudiantes, you may call me Ms. S.”  

The first days were like a honeymoon.  Glorious!  The kids were silent, too afraid to act up, talk back, ask pointless questions, whine about homework, beg for bathroom breaks, or yell out, “Miss!  Miss!”

And then it arrived; day 177.  The day they got comfortable.  Oh, the questions, needs and complaints.  They suddenly had voices.  Loud ones, whiney ones.  

The Scene: English 6 with Miss S.  Room 102, David Ybarra Middle School.  5 minutes into 7th period.

Gilbert: “Miss, Miss… can I go to the bathroom?”

Ari: “Miss, what are we gonna do today?” 

Miguel: (after 5 minutes of my giving directions) “Miss, what do I do?”

Samantha: “Miss, I don’t gitchu (get-you).”

Zach: “Miss, I help you clean the chalkboard?”

Vanessa:  ”Miss!  Miss!  (when I don’t respond, she tries the full name)… Miss Wright… I mean, Miss Corona… Miss Garza… ugh… Miss… what’s your name again?”

Miguel: “Miss!  Samantha just slapped me”

Samantha: “But Miss, Miguel was messing with my hair!”

Gilbert: “Miss, can I go to the bathroom.”

Odalis: “Miss, can I go drink water.”

Samantha: “Miss, can I sit in a different seat?”

Gilbert: “Miss, can I go to the office?”

Mireya: “Miss, can I go to the nurse?”

Gilbert: “Miss, can I go to the bathroom?”

Rebecca: “Miss, can I go to the bathroom?”

Gilbert: “Miss, can I go call my mom and then go to the bathroom?”

Gus: “Miss, can I have a marshmallow?  Can I tell a joke?”

Kimberly: (Silent.  Staring out the window.)

Robert and Michael: (Silent.  Ready to learn.)

The “Miss” (that’s me): NO!  ABSOLUTELY NO ONE may go to the bathroom.  No you CANNOT have a marshmallow.  I don’t want to hear anymore tattling.  Sit down.  Be quiet.  I see that Robert and Michael are the only ones ready to learn today.  Everyone else, get ready to listen carefully to my instructions.  They will not be repeated.  If you have a question, don’t ask it.  If you need to go to the bathroom, hold it.  If you have to go to the nurse, go later. If someone slapped you, turn the other cheek.  Do you know what that means?  Probably not.  If you forget my name, it’s on the board.  If you are thirsty, swallow your saliva.  

The class, in unison: “Miss, what’s saliva?”  

And those were the days when there were only 120 of them.  Since then, a few migrant students (those who come into school late from working the fields up north) have trickled in.  A few others missed the first days of school because they didn’t have shoes, books, rides to school, or ganas (desire).  

My English course is called Writing con Ganas, which most of my students translate as Writing with Guts!  I have discovered that my students are gutsy writers, many of them taking risks with English, their second language.  We have a daily journal at the beginning of each class.  Here is a sampling of some 6th grade journal entries:

The Journal Topic:  The “teachers only” closet in Miss S’s room has always been somewhat of a mystery.  One day while she was still in the hall, greeting students, you open the door, and peak inside.  What do you find?

A world full of walking, talking school materials.  It was exciting.  (Markus)

“HELP!” I yelled.  I discover something very unusual and out-of-the-ordinary.  There it was right smack in front of me.  It was a body.  And not just any-body.  It was MY body.  My body was covered in my favorite food, spaghetti.  I yelled my lungs out to see if anyone could hear me, but unfortunately, they couldn’t.  At first, I was scared and afraid, but then, I became excited and nervous at the same time.  My body was dead right in front of me, and no one could do anything about it.  (Aaron)

Inside the closet there were two paths.  One of them was a path leading to Minnesota.  Miss S takes that path on her lunch break so she can visit her friends.  The other path lead to her house in Weslaco.  (Michael)

Pencils and scissors. (Miguel)

Nothing.  I find absolutely nothing.  All of a sudden, Miss S comes up behind me and pushes me into the closet.  I am locked in there until my death.  (Eduardo.  He and I are working through things.)

A Catwoman suit.  I discover that Miss S is Catwoman!  (David)

Inside I found… MISS S!  Staring right back at me!  I knew better than to scream, so I slammed the door, and crouched down low.  ”What was that?”  She called to me from the hallway.  ”Oh, nothing, Miss S.”  I replied.  ”Well, don’t let it happen again,” she said.  (Cynthia)

I find a world of little green people, and a WANTED poster… of Miss S.  (Zhanne)

Most of my students are wonderfully creative.  It’s refreshing to live in a part of the country that doesn’t offer many distractions.  There isn’t a lot here to entertain the kids, so they are left to entertain themselves.  Though television consumes many of them, others choose the higher paths of make-believe, books, and exploration.  Edcouch-Elsa, as I’ve mentioned, is a rural town, where a common pet is a duck, where goats wander along the side of Hwy 1015, horses are tied to convenience store mailboxes, students journal about their relationships with roosters, cows and chickens, and stray dogs mate in the streets.  

Besides the culture shock of moving from Cosmopolitan Minneapolis to Rustic Edcouch, I am, at the same time, amazed as to how, in a matter of 5 months, I’ve become a grown-up.  From taking care of one college kid’s well-being… to concerning almost every ounce of my energy with the academic success, safety, and happiness 130 others.  From worrying about one student (me)… to facilitating the learning and growth of over a hundred 11 and 12, sometimes 13, year-old kids.  From sleeping in, skipping class, coffee dates, college grunge, late night hang-outs, philosophy papers and Saturday night swing dancing… to 5:30AM alarms, taking attendance, drive through coffee, teacher clothes, 11PM bedtime, planning lessons, assigning grammar homework, giving spelling tests, and teaching hispanic kids to salsa dance.  There are brand new concepts, terms, and acronyms thrown at me each day (this if for you, Jim): ARDs, IPEs, Modifications, GT, SPED, PRCs, PLCs, TAKS, TEKS, TExES, ULI, PFCDYMS…  

It’s coming together, slowly but surely.  With all the new stuff, though, I have to believe that what I tell my students, is true for me, too: “each day, of the next 121, is a clean slate.  There are new mercies cada dia; take them and run.”

Teachers

 Please watch this if you are ever curious about what teachers make…

(this is for you, Mom, Dad, Carrie Malvig, and Jim Schofield)

Since I was last inspired to write, mucho ha pasado! (a lot has happened!)

Listen up…

Summer School Victories!

My 10 Sharpstown Middle School students graduated 6th grade, and moved onto 7th!

Derrick, Asma, Maria, Claudia, Michael, Ajha, Mohammed, Christopher, Gustavo, and Miss S.

Derrick, Asma, Maria, Claudia, Michael, Ajha, Mohammed, Christopher, Gustavo, and Miss S.

I am SO proud of them! Each and every one of them had small victories that, I hope and pray, will carry them into the 7th grade on a high note. Here are a couple of them.

Gustavo and Derrick

Gustavo and Derrick on the last day of Summer School. Derrick won fake teeth in our class raffle!

Derrick. The first 2 days of summer school, he simply walked out of my class. The first time, he and I had a stare-down, and out of frustration, he threw down his paper and pencil, and walked out. I made the mistake of going after him for a few second, until I realized that if I left the rest of my class alone, utter pandemonium would break loose, and there would be no turning back. The second time, another student was in his assigned seat. A few minutes later, I looked out the window and saw him biking down the street toward home.

I was at a loss… until I found out what made him tick: rap music, break dancing and his dad. I started doing research, and each day, during our “daily journal” time, I would take the opportunity to give him individualized writing prompts, first providing him with fun facts about local rappers, like Paul Wall, and body-building prodigy, Little Hercules. I would ask him interesting questions about his dad. Soon it caught on. Each day, he would come in, find his seat (first kicking any trespasser out), and eagerly await my notes.

My next challenge was getting him to write. During silent daily journal time, most of the other kids would write. But Derrick would raise his hand and respond to my prompt, verbally. I would listen as he loudly commented on each fun fact, and confidently addressed each question. Thankfully, the other kids were still able to concentrate. After he finished, I would say, “that is SO interesting, Derrick! I don’t want to forget it! Could you write it all down for me?” He would. He didn’t want me to forget it either. He began writing, not as a “homework assignment,” rather, as a “reminder of what he had just told Miss S. so she would not forget it.”

Gustavo. The first day, our “daily journal” writing prompt was: “Who is your role model? Why do you respect this person? What does this person do that you like? Why do you want to be like this person?” I gave my students 10 minutes to respond, and expected no less than 5 sentences.

Gustavo wrote: “My role model is my cousin because”

That’s it. For 9 out of 10 minutes, he stared out the window. When I made sure that he understood the questions, he paraphrased them, and repeated the expectations back to me, word for word. He knew what to do. In his mind, he simply had no reason to do anything I had asked him to do.

Gustavo had very little motivation and respect for the “system” (rightfully so – but this is another issue for another time!). Inevitably, this rubbed off on the other kids. Being a really cool (in my opinion), older 6th grader, he had influence in the classroom. Just about every day, I would hold him after class, telling him how much the other kids looked up to him, and, for this reason, I needed him to be a good example of hard work, participation, and respect. He would nod, and crack a mocking smile, saying “yes, Miss.” As anticipated, the next day would be the same thing: no motivation, little participation, and blatant disrespect.

Finally, one day, I held him after class and didn’t say a word about his behavior. I just asked him to help me clean up. He was expecting another lecture to “agree to” and blow off; instead, I kindly asked him to erase the chalkboard and rearrange the desks. “Is that it, Miss?” I smiled and nodded. Confused, he went to lunch.

The next day, our journal entry was: “What are 2 things that make you proud, and 2 things that make you excited?”

Gustavo wrote: That I can do my work in class by myself. And because I can share what I think. Because I can share my story’s whith my friends and teacher Ms. S. And most lee because she is so fun. That school is almost out and I will go to dallas and fothworth TX and is goin to be cool.

It took him the entire 10 minutes to get these thoughts on paper, but he did it. 5 whole sentences!

Student Surveys

On the last day of summer school, I passed out a survey to my students. Here is a quick collection of their responses:

What do you think my first name is?

Michelle, Monica, Sarah (3 votes!), Michael (??), Jeniffer, Madison, Sandra.

If I weren’t a teacher, what do you think I would be?

Translator, a person who writes books, doctor, photographer, photo girl, nurse, model (!).

Do you have any advice for me as a teacher?

“To be a better person”

“Keep doing what you doing/be mean”

“Yeah you are my best teacher”

“To be the same because you are a good good good teacher”

“No”

“Not really, Ms. S”

Well, I’m not sure these responses honestly reflect the daily whining and misbehavior in my class… but they leave me feeling ready and excited to tackle a new group of really cool 6th graders in the fall.

Welcome to Weslaco!

I moved back to the Rio Grand Valley (RGV) and found an apartment in Weslaco, TX with a fellow Math teacher, Dama, from Orange County, CA (shout out to Danni in the O.C.). Dama and I live in a gated community called Sangria Sunset. Yeah, $280.00 a month. Pool and Jacuzzi.

Believe it!

FELICITACIONES, C & J!

Christine & James got engaged! WHAT????? Yeah, It’s about time, right? 6 whole months of, what some may call, pre-engagement hanging out! Congratulations, babies!! See you in December!

A visit from the hermanas!

The beauty of sisters, among many other things, is (as my sister Liz put it)…

“the (victorious) struggle to make connections on a mature level, and when it doesn’t work, resorting back to the immature (yet awesome) ways we are used to.”

On the maturity piece, my sisters have become a powerful support for me during this HUGE transition in my life, and despite my move to Tejas, God’s firm grasp on the unity of our relationships is obvious.

Bringing it back the “ways we are used to”… Annie and I still boss each other around, Cat still gets ticked off about our constant meta-analysis of sister dynamics, and Liz still lightens the mood with her mockery of foreign accents and random, unfiltered observations. I love them DEARLY, and will miss being a 20-60 minute drive to any one of their loving embraces… (wow, I’m going to cry)…

Anyway, I just can’t wait until Justin and Annie find jobs in Edcouch, Liz marries a Mexican who decides to move back home, and Cat goes to graduate school at the University of Texas, Pan-American!

Dolly Dolly Dolly!

Last Tuesday afternoon, I got a note on my door from my landlady.

I’m sure you are all aware of hurricane Dolly that is expected to make landfall some time in the early morning hours of Wednesday… (this is where I started imagining bad things)

So I evacuated to Houston.

Okay, so the REAL reason I went to Houston was for an IKEA run and an Apple Store visit. Also, some friends are at a conference for Math and Science teachers, so there was a place for me to crash. So I figured, while I was at it, I would escape the hurricane that was expected to hit my new community! While Weslaco wasn’t really affected, as much as the surrounding towns in the Rio Grande Valley, the area is obviously still in the process of pulling itself together. This video is from a town just north of Weslaco.

So, I’m still not sure what goes down from here… like… do people need places to stay? Should I open up my living room? Do I grab a pail and start helping remove the water in people’s houses? Do I… start by praying that God teaches me how to be a good friend to those in my proximity?

I’ll start with that.

     

    Some glad morning when this life is o’er, I’ll fly away;

    To a home on God’s celestial shore, I’ll fly away (I’ll fly away).

    I’ll fly away, Oh Glory
    I’ll fly away; (in the morning)
    When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
    I’ll fly away (I’ll fly away).

I know this song is about death, and the glorious life thereafter.  But that is not why it’s there.  It’s there because God is SO GOOD at bringing glory to himself in whatever way He can.  Even through old Christian folk songs about death.

Becky, the girl from Minnesota that I drove to Texas with, started a worship circle on Saturday nights during our month of training in Houston.  Tonight, there were 6 of us gathered in the breezeway of the Moody Towers at the University of Houston.  We were worshipping together, and between songs, two TFA dudes, Jim and Joe, walked up with their guitars.  

“Hey, it looks like you guys are having a jam session…”  One asked.

(Hesitant) “Well, kind of.”  We said.

“What are you singin’?”  The other inquired.

“Worship.”  Said Becky.

Awkward silence.  

They seemed to want to scramble to get out of there, but one of us invited them to sit down and “jam” with us.  So they did.  And it was fine.  Actually, it was great!  

Jim knew an old Christian folk song that he had picked up from a movie, so he played it for us.  I don’t remember most of the words, but I do recall him repeating, “Jesus knows the way” in the refrain.  Jim may have had no idea, but these words were true, and they penetrated my heart.  

The next song he played for us was the “old school” I’ll Fly Away.  Stumbling through the lyrics, we all sang along.  

Then we asked if they knew how to play Amazing Grace, and they said no, but Joe wanted to try.  Becky had the sheet music, so she and Joe played while the rest of us sang about our Savior.  Finally, How Great Thou Art was next, and neither of the boys knew how to play it.  Becky did, so they just watched.  Actually, Jim just watched.  Joe sang.  Loud and clear.  Every word.  Every note.  He sang like he meant it.  

O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder,
Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made;
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art
!

Now, I’m not sure if Joe really meant these words, but I am sure that he really liked the song.  I believe that Joe’s words were bringing glory to our Father in Heaven, whether or not he knew it.  

To bring the “jam session” to a close, Jim and Joe parted, with their guitars, to find food, and the rest of us worshipped a little more.  On their way out, though, the 2 boys said that they’d “jam” with us some other time.  

I’m pretty sure God was smiling real big.  

Miss! Miss!

Yeah, that’s actually what they call me. “Miss!” Not Miss Slauson, nor Miss S, which I permitted, thinking it would be easier for them. Just “Miss.” They call everyone “Miss” or “Mister.” Even if they remember ME, I am certain they will not remember my name.

My first day of teaching at Sharpstown Middle School in Houston, TX was last Monday. (I am only at this school for a month during training, and then I move back to Edcouch). It was a tough day; not for me, but for the kids. There was a memorial service for Maria at the end of the day, and all morning they were taking diagnostic tests and reading assessments. My first “real” day of instruction was Tuesday. Though none of my kids passed my reading & writing diagnostic, I have FULL FAITH that they can pass to the 7th grade, attributing the poor diagnostic results to their mourning for Maria, coupled with the lack of motivation that comes from being in summer school. I hope to motivate them, somehow.

Though I can’t yet display photos of my class (since, first, I don’t have any, and, second, I haven’t gotten their parents to sign a consent form), I have taken a photo of their “name cards” from the first day of class. I display them in my bedroom so I never forget their names. I also try to think about, and pray for, them each night.

So, meet (the post-it representations of…) Miss S’s 6th grade English Class.

Presenting: Mohammed, Ajha, Christopher, Asma, Maria, Derrick, Steven, Claudia, Michael, Deon, Quentin, and Gustavo.

Some favorite classroom procedures:

(1) Time Keeping. If anyone knows me at all, they know how free spirited I am about the clock. Well, in a class of 12 6th graders that need to pass onto the 7th grade in 3 weeks, we are racing the clock. That is why I made Gustavo my “time manager.” He comes into class, puts on my stopwatch, and when the bell rings, starts the clock. He is my class “type A” (since I don’t have Rachel Shubatt around), and the Lord knows I need the “type As” to keep me grounded. Thanks, Gustavo.

(2) “Ago, Amé.” So, I told my kids I could speak a couple words in an African Language. This is very true. I can say some full Somali phrases, and sing some Swahili songs, but my favorite is the tribal “Ago-Amé” call-back that I learned in an African Dance class. I use it in my class when I want to get their attention. It works wonders.

(3) My post-it manager. I came up with a “rewards-consequence” system that is very complex, but in short, it entails moving post-its up and down a number chart, indicating positive and negative behaviors of each student. I put Christopher in charge of moving the post-its up or down. What I didn’t realize, when his hand shot up to receive the title of “post-it manager,” that he was 4 feet tall. The adorable 4-foot-tall Christopher is relieved when his classmates misbehave, since it means he moves the post-its down. But when they are rewarded, he has to jump up to “level 8,” where the “above and beyond” behavior is. Sometimes, I offer him a chair as a boost.

So, last week, we learned some fun things. Using Sideways Stories from Wayside School (I know you all read it in grade school), we analyzed inference and prediction, the elements of a paragraph, and the parts of a short story. I think the book is too easy for them, but it is very entertaining (for me, too). On Tuesday, we read the story of Mrs. Gorf, who turns her problems students into apples. Then on Wednesday, I brought 2 apples to school and sat them on my desk, beginning class with: “Based on what we read about Mrs. Gorf, what can we infer about these apples?” As I expected, they loved it. What I didn’t expect was to hear Steven yelling at me from down the hall later that day: “Hello, Mrs. Gorf!”

Mrs. Gorf or not (I do have to be mean sometimes), I simply love them. Today, I was thinking about the worship song that says, “better is one day in your courts than thousands elsewhere.” To me, it speaks to the fact that being in God’s presence (his courts), and in the center of His will, is the safest, most comforting, place on earth. When I step foot into that classroom, with those 12 little (and not so little) 6th graders, I know I am in His courts. I don’t feel it. But I know it.

I have so much to learn about teaching (and everything else). I sometimes feel like I am training to become a good actress, as this teacher role feels so unreal. There will come a day when it will feel real (and I will start talking like my Mom, a high school home economics teacher). But right now, I am striving to let justice and grace, that which God brought me here to uphold, be my embrace. I have nothing else (…except for 2 very thick teaching material binders…) to hold on to.

 

 

Inspiration

It is late, and I’m sleepy, but in stewardship of the opportunity to learn from God in a unique way, I will use these “spare” (sleep deprived) moments, to write.  

Truly, this experience has been amazing, but in a pretty casual way.  First, a quick run-down of the events:

     May 31: Drive to Texas

     June 2: Teach for America Induction in Edinburg (near Edcouch, TX)

     June 8: Teach for America Training in Houston, TX  (*I am here)

     July 12: Officially move to Edcouch, TX

Not much has excited me, in the material sense, because there is too much going on to really breath in any adventure.  Despite all of the things that Teach for America requires of a person, God is rising above these extremes for me.  I knew He would.  A lot of the people here are Ivy League geniuses; but, like Paul, I boast in my infirmities (my U of M Philosophy degree and limited teaching experience), because I know God is the One pulling me through the moments of drudgery… my 4:45 AM alarm, the University of Houston breakfasts, the bus rides to Sharpstown Middle School, intense curriculum development, impossible classroom management, tedious lesson planning, and boring consequence charts.  (Yes, that is my daily schedule).  The truth: God is my inspiration, my daily bread, and my constant companion.  If He were not, I would be drowning.

Sharpstown Middle School in Houston, TX, is a tough one, so I’ve heard.  I actually begin teaching my four-week 6th Grade summer course on Monday.  However, we’ve been doing planning and prep at the school for the last week.  As the summer classes are already in a preliminary session, the students curiously stare from their classrooms at the mass of middle-class college grads in grown-up clothes, ties and high-heels, walking down the hall.  The good thing is, we’ve peaked their interest.  Yesterday, I was carrying a poster and a box of goodies (including a class-set of Sideways Stories from Wayside School, pencils, candy, and loose-leaf paper), to my official, but temporary, “classroom.”  I was stopped in the hall by two giggling sixth graders.  

“Are you our new teacher?” they said.  

“Well, yes.  Yes, I am.  You can call me Ms. Slauson, or Ms. “S,” if that’s easier.  Can you show me where room A101 is?”  

New teacher!  I guess that’s what I am now.  

This is a daunting, but inspiring task.  Especially because whether or not those giggling 6th graders go onto the 7th grade is up to my ability to lead them to academic achievement in 18 specific reading and writing skill areas.  

Lord, have mercy!

OK.  Back to the point.

Yesterday morning, as we were in our curriculum development seminar, the Sharpstown VP made an announcement that shook me.  A sixth grade girl (let’s call her Maria) from the Middle School died in her home on Wednesday evening from a seizure.  Her eleven year life was gone, in a literal instant.  One minute she was talking to her sister, and next, she was dead.  

Now, I know education is important.  Otherwise, I would not be here.  I am all for leading children to academic gains so as to open up life’s possibilities to them, such as college and careers, that they otherwise would not have.  But why am I really here?  

Like I said before: I am here to do justice (that’s the education part), to love mercy (that’s the being a teacher part), and the walk humbly with my God.  This last part, to me, means giving a piece of God to each child that I encounter, to the best of my ability.  I don’t know HOW I can do this, but I will do it.  God has given me so much love for these people, even for Maria, though I don’t know them yet.  I simply pray that in the (precisely) 83 minutes I have with Maria’s classmates each day, for the next 4 weeks, He will give me the courage, wisdom and grace to love them, and instill in them something that endures longer than their education.  As they mourn the death of a beloved peer, I seek the compassion to love them sincerely and powerfully.  

I will need SO MUCH strength for this, but He has it to give.  

I will take.  

Adios, Minnesota.

Goodbye, Minneapolis!


Hola, Texas!

Hola, Texas!

 

Snow or no snow, God bathes me with BLESSINGS, unnecessarily!  When I open my eyes to them, my joy is complete!  I have seen them so clearly since leaving my cozy basement bedroom (I hope you’re enjoying it, Rachel’s cousin!), and beautiful roomies in Columbia Heights, MN.  Here are a few I would like to mention.

Blessing #1: Los Ocampos Restaurante.  For my adios dinner, Christine, Anna Leisa, Danni and Mindy let me buy my own sopes (thanks, gals!) at a lovely ‘Burger King meets Mexico’ joint on Lake & Chicago.  It was all I could have asked for.  Really.  

 

Danni using a suitcase as a shopping cart at Target for some last minute road-trip groceriesBlessing #2: Danni and Becky, my travel buddies.  Danni (who I met at theology school in England 5 years ago) flew in from California to accompany me on the three-day-long trip through Iowa, Nebraska, Missouri, Kansas, and Oklahoma.  Becky, also teaching in the Rio Grande Valley, caravanned with us from Minneapolis.  With her atlas, she kept my little Honda on track.  

Blessing #3: We finally reached Texas!  

 

 

Blessing #4: Hospitality.  In Matthew 25.35, Jesus thanks the saints for giving Him food when he was hungry, giving Him drink when he was thirsty, and taking Him in when he was a stranger.  I read that yesterday, and was struck with deep gratitude toward all the people who provided for us during the trip.  Day one: My high school Spanish teacher, Carrie, and her husband (actually, my high school biology teacher!) fed and housed us in Fremont, Nebraska.  Day two: Jenny, a childhood friend, took us into her home in Longview, Texas, and introduced us to Taco Bueno, a 5-star version of Taco Bell.  Finally, day three: as we pulled into Weslaco, TX, a few miles from Edcouch (where I will be teaching), Tina and Deb were fixing beds and cooking enchiladas for us.  They are 2nd-year teachers here in the Valley who had a wealth of experience to share.  Thanks to all of you!  

 

Blessing #5:  Disparity.  The first night in Weslaco, Tina and Deb took us to the frontera.  Crossing, on foot, into Mexico from a “poor” town in Texas, the economic inequities and asymmetry between the two countries were apparent.  It seems insensitive to be thankful for disparity, but God has so much to show us through it.  That sounds empty and cliché, but my own interactions with people who experience this “gap” first-hand have profoundly changed my life.  SO valuable are the qualities – lightheartedness, simplicity, thankfulness, among others – that endure and strengthen the souls of those who are affected by the economic disparity that infects our world.  It is one of those ugly consequences of human free will through which God has chosen to bring beauty and meaning.   

 

Blessing #6: Melly, Miss Diaz, Bob, and the others at David Ybarra Middle School.  On Tuesday, nine of us new teachers drove to Edcouch to meet our principle, Mr. Garza, who gave us our official assignments (mine is 6th grade English), showed us our classrooms, and expressed his excitement to have us join the David Ybarra team.  I am very much at ease, having met a few people in my new support network: the cafeteria manager (Melly), the copy-room lady (Miss Diaz, or Miss Days, as the gringos call her), and Bob Martinez, the tech guy.  I also met the Baker, the Cusodian, and the former English teacher, who moves to England tomorrow.  Nevertheless, she left me some nifty posters and lesson plans.

 

Moonbeans Coffee ShopBlessing #7:  Moonbeans Coffee Shop.  The only place in the area, besides Burger King, with free WI-FI, this place has great coffee and a comforting, bohemian style.  It’s like being at Dunn Bros – oh, how I will miss Minneapolis!  Except for the fact that the 5-year old owner’s son took my coffee order, it’s a pretty ordinary and chill.  That’s what I like, because that’s who I (like to think) I am!  

There are certainly more to mention:

  • The Bible & Oswald’s Utmost, working together to keep my heart abiding in the Lord
  • My support network in Minneapolis (the Fam, the Church, the Roomies, etc…), who keep it ‘real’
  • My induction roomie, Maureen, from Houston, who is SO easy and enjoyable to be around
  • Air Conditioning, which brings sanity the HOT Texas days
  • Teach for America, who provided me this opportunity to LEARN, LIVE, and LOVE this community
  • Muchas más…  
Can I challenge you to count your blessings?  
It’s as easy as 1…2…3… and sincerely restores the joy that is meant to be our lives.  

 

Ed’s Couch

Ed\'s Couch, Texas

Ed’s Couch, Texas

Logistics: On June 01, I am moving to the Rio Grande Valley in the deep south of Texas. After a month of training and testing for my emergency teaching license, I will begin a 2 year contract teaching 6th grade Language Arts at David Ybarra Middle School in the small town of Edcouch (as in founder, Edward Couch).

How? Through an organization called Teach For America, which aims at closing the educational achievement gap in the United States.

People: I will meet them soon, and so will you.

Mission: To do justly. To love mercy. To walk humbly with my God. – Micah 6.8

Blog: If you know me at all, you know that I am not, nor ever will be, a committed blogger (bluntly, I detest blogging). That said, I will only do so when I am inspired, as to inspire others with the lives of those I am serving, and the way God is using me in the valley. So, don’t be mad.

With Love, your Servant, Slave and Sister,

Sarah Anne

…Caring about the things of the Lord, striving to be holy both in body and in spirit, and serving the Lord without distraction. (1 Corinthians 7:34-35)