Two Weeks Down, Writers in Progress.

And just like that, the second week of school is over.   A new group of faces has walked into my life, and I must say that I feel very encouraged about this year after the great start we have had.  I've enjoyed learning about and getting to know my new littles.

Last week we started figurative language.  On Friday, I had groups create examples of certain literary devices.  Each group received a different picture and was asked to create examples of literary devices based on their picture. And these kids came to work!  Once they got settled in and thought about their picture, they got into it, and I sat back and watched them work together to invent some really thoughtful responses.

Here are just a couple of the ones they came up with:

- The sun's rays were bullets shooting through the trees.

- The trail was a gold stairway leading to the finish line.

- The mile-high mountain made skyscrapers look small.

 

We also turned in 6 word memoirs on Friday, which is one of my absolute favorite lessons.  This assignment is like a window into their souls.  Telling a story with a limit of 6 words forces you to be creative and lay your heart on paper.  And these guys, again, rose to the challenge:

- We never learn, until we see.

- We don't have to be ordinary.

- Still a kid. To be continued...

- Don't say it. Come show it.

- Small in size, not in heart.

- Luck does not come from cookies.

-Life's like shadows; you control it.

- Let the notes take you away.

- We're all stories in the end.

- Lights, camera, wait a second, action.

- Words express things I never could.

- I see good in every evil.

- Wait. What are we doing again?

- Laughing is my life-long infection.

- When it rains, play in puddles.

- If you talk, you're a goner.

And mine:

- Long hours. Feet screaming.  Worth it.

These are only a few but if these responses are any indication, I think we'll have a year full of deep thinking, creative writing, and meaningful collaboration.  All this and our first volleyball game on Tuesday? Let's do this 7th graders!

Oceans and kayaks and school, Oh My!

As I sit on my patio this morning typing this blog and reflecting on my summer, the world feels a little quieter.  Its breathing is a little deeper.  Its heart beats a little slower.  My tree shelters me from the stifling rays while casting a cool, web-like shadow, pockets of sunlight seeping through.  The morning breeze greets me with tranquility rather than menacing temps.  If just for this fleeting moment, all seems right with the world. I can see the beauty of God in the minute details of the leaves and the clouds and the birds. But soon reality will catch up, and life will resume at a dizzying pace.

But first reflection time.  My favorite.  Summer is a time for new.  Newly availed time, new ideas, new schedules, new goals, new experiences.  And this summer didn't disappoint.  Vacations, running, new friends? It's been an adventure, some of which is just too fun not to share.

1. Parasailing in Destin, FL.  I have a Guatemalan friend whose "Abuelita" described parasailing as "delicious," and she was right.  We did take our GoPro up with us, and maybe one day we'll actually upload the video somewhere but for now you'll have to take my word for it.  If you've ever been, you know that they put you in a harness and clip you to the parachute where you are lifted off the back of the boat.  On the way up, I was very aware that these little carabiner hooks were the only thing keeping me from plunging 400 feet into shark-infested waters.  After a while, my fingers finally relaxed their grip from the harness and my knuckles regained their usual color. I settled in for the ride long enough to sing Aladdin's "A Whole New World" (I mean, who wouldn't?!).  Everything just felt still and quiet suspended  in time above the earth.  While it was difficult to drive away the thought of imminent death, the views were incredible - the blended colors of the sea and sky and beach reminded me of the way a snow cone tastes. Delicious, right?!

2. Kayaking in Destin. Specifically kayaking with a spouse. To anyone seeking marriage, I would strongly recommend tandem kayaking as part of your pre-marital counseling.  You learn a lot about yourself as well as your partner.  As we began paddling out through the incessant waves, we couldn't quite get our rhythm down.  Since I was in the front, I couldn't see how many strokes Kyle was giving from the back. I paddled two strokes to the right to his one on the left.  Instead of gliding out to the deep blue, we paddled in circles.  Then, out of nowhere, we saw a manatee! A real live sea cow drifting right before us!  Of course, we tried to follow the dark shadow; instead, more circles. So, we conceded, waving goodbye to our new fat friend as he floated across the shallow ocean. Frustration took hold and soon, Kyle took the reigns solo, assigning me GoPro duty.  This worked out well for me since my job had gotten much less strenuous and a lot more fun.  All of a sudden, we weren't paddling a merry-go-round but were headed to our destination: the deep blue. I took the opportunity to record the dolphin we saw and commentate in my best Steve Irwin voice.  Eventually, we had to turn around, and since Kyle's strength was dissolving, I had to regain my responsibility. Apparently, I don't know how to paddle because as soon as I started, the circling resumed.  Frustration ensued again and we were forced to figure out how to work together.  Lord, bless my husband.  We did make it back alive, and I will say that we did NOT capsize.  That's gotta count for something, right?

3. New church.  Over the course of the summer we joined a new church and new home group, and we are so excited to be a part of them!  God's working big through them in our lives.

4. Kentucky.  Just a couple weekends ago, to finish out the summer, we paid a visit to Kyle's Aunt and Uncle in Kentucky where we got a preview of the country life.  Corn fields, Fishin', swimmin', shooting' guns, makin' s'mores - that's my kind of living.  Did I mention 68 degree temps?  Be jealous.

From acclimating myself to a new running regimen to kayaking with manatees to fishing to making new friends, it's been a productive season. At the same time, our new couch cushions are well contoured to the shape of my rear.  Yes, summer also calls for laziness, and it would be wrong not to oblige.  AND I DON'T FEEL A BIT GUILTY.

Now, as all good things must, summer is ending.  From most teachers, you may hear a chorus of the school-starting blues, but I am ready to get back into my room and start preparing.  I'm ready to make some changes.  I'm ready to build relationships.  I'm ready to make a fool of myself and learn and write and blog and love.  While I've enjoyed my season of rest, I'm ready to get back in the game - to get back to my second home. It may feel a little like the kayak again, wavy and inconsistent, going in circles, getting frustrated, but that is life.  Bring on the challenge, 2015/16 school year.  I'm ready for you.

What are you thinking?

So I've decided to run a half marathon. Yes, I'm insane. After college, I had this idea that I would be super fit and run all the time. I knew I'd want a way to still compete, and since volleyball was over, I'd take up running. I didn't become that girl exactly, but the thought never left. Since then, running a half has been on my bucket list, so I figured this year would be the time to do it before I start getting old and broken and full of children.

At the beginning of the summer, I found a 10-week half marathon training plan that I liked and decided to get running.  The only prerequisite to the plan was that you had to be able to run 3 miles or 30 minutes comfortably as a result of training for 4-5 weeks prior.  Well, I hadn't "trained" consistently for 5 weeks, but I was in decent enough shape that I could run 3 miles without dying. So I figured, what the hay? I did get a little nervous when it had me running 6 miles within the first week, but I survived.

The first few weeks went along swimmingly.  I was getting up early-ish, getting my miles in, eating healthier, and feeling good.  Thankfully, the abundant shade along my route kept me slightly cooler than boiling.  I've had to get a little creative to work in some water breaks along the way.  Now, I'm on week 7, and the miles keep accumulating. Yesterday, I ran my first 10 miler.  A question I've heard and something I have often wondered of other runners is what goes through your head when you run that far? Well, folks, let me just tell you.

67 thoughts that flash like popcorn in my head during a ten mile run:

1. MILE 1: Ugh geez, no one will know if I just shorten today's run to one mile, right?
2. Why do my legs already hurt?
3. Am I going too fast? That runner's world article said my mile pace should be about 2 minutes slower than my normal pace.
4. 9:54.  I guess that's OK.  I hope I don't crap out later.
5.  Why is my nose running?
6. MILE 2:  Alright, this is kinda nice. Taking things slow is working.
7.  Ah trees, you are like a giant natural umbrella. Just keep blocking that sun.
8.  I'll just settle in and sing along with my worship tunes.
9. This down hill part makes me feel like I'm flying! But don't worry runner's world, I still feel slow...
10.  MILE 3: OK hills, don't you know I have 10 MILES! You're gonna have to lighten up..
11. Don't look at me like that, Mr. Driver in your little air conditioned Honda, it is perfectly normal and not at all gross that I am blowing my nose in my sweat-soaked shirt.
12.  Slightly winded from those freaking mountains, but we're still good everybody. Feel the burn!
13. So, I should be coming up on that water bottle I hid in the grass sometime soon...
14.  I hope no one was trying to "help the environment" and threw it away.
15. Oh no, what if it's not there?
16.  What if I can't find it?
17.  I'm gonna die.
18. It's OK.  I hid another one around mile 6. I can make it.
19. But what if that's gone?
20. WATER!!! Yay! It's still here.
21. Remember runner's world?  You said it's OK to take walk breaks.
22. Everything is better with water.
23. Get on my head, ice cold water!
24.  Alright MILE 4, I'll start running now.
25.  I really hate running with the water bottle.
26.  I'll just chug it and be done.
27. Ugh... crap.  Water logged.
28. Alright, everybody, we're doing good. Let's settle in - nice steady pace.
29. I feel a little slower, but I'm still running!
30. I will not walk. I will not walk. I will not walk.
31. 5 MILES DONE!! Half way there..
32. Trees? Shade? Where did you go? I thought you had my back...
33.  Ughghghgh. My body is bouncing.
34. Good pace.  I'm still alive.
35.  It's kinda hot.
36.  6 miles!  I'm cruising.
37.  Almost to water.
38. I hope it's still there.
39. Crap, where is it?
40. Why does my nose keep running?
41. WATER!!
42. And walk break. Water, get on my head!
43.  Here we go again.  Water is so refreshing!
43. Just 3.5 miles left?  I've run that before.  I got this.
44.  Oh no, more hills.
45. Jesus, please get me through this run. Grant me strength.
46. Legs, don't wimp out on me, you are almost over this mountain... Oh it doesn't end!
47.  It's the climb! - Miley get out of here!
48.  Oh downhill, how happy I am to see you!
49. But not for long.
50. And back up.
51. 8 MILES down?! Pssh.  2 more miles - that's nothing!
52.  Let's pick it up legs.  That's right.
53.  Look who's beastin' it up this hill! Thanks for the energy, Jesus!
54. The faster I run, the faster I get WATER!!
55. Yes!  One more mile! Easy peasy.
56. Uh... legs?  What happened?  We're not done.
57. You will not quit. You will not quit. You will not quit.
58. Still a half mile...
59. This is the end... of my life.
60. My feet are tingling... is that normal?
61.  I can feel my body dying a little at a time.
62.  Don't quit. Don't quit. Don't quit.
63.  One foot... in front of... the other...
64. God? Is that you calling me home?
65.  Time: 1 hour 54 minutes 18 seconds. Distance: 10 miles.
66. AHHH!! What just happened? Do I get water now?
67.  But my legs don't work.

The important thing is I finished, and I'm not gonna lie; I feel pretty proud of myself.  You never know what you can do until you do it.  For this reason, I love running.  I love that it gives me an outlet to break down walls.  It's never easy, but everyday I feel myself getting stronger.  I start out every run praising God for giving me the physical and mental ability to push through pain and finish the run.  In just a few weeks, I'll be testing new boundaries of physical exertion, but I fully trust that my Creator will pull me to the finish line just as He has in every other run.

What time is it? ... It's our vacation... Almost..

Somehow these school years keep going by faster and faster.  Or maybe it just feels that way because another one is over.  As a kid, I could never wait until summer.  Swimming, friends, sleepovers, vacations, swimming.  These are what a kid lives for, but being a teacher, summer doesn't hold quite the same sanctity. While, of course, I LOVE having my time to rejuvenate and recuperate for the next year, my perspective has changed a bit.

As every school year must end, the last day creeps to a close.  Necks are hugged.  Selfies are snapped.  Kids are scattered, and the hallways and classes are eventually emptied.  I know I wrote a post about this last year, but it hasn't gotten any easier to let my babies go.  Once the kids are gone and the excitement turns to quiet, I'm left with the emptiness of the chairs and the deafening silence that will no longer be filled by the ones I've come to know and love so well.  And the tears ensued.  While puddles formed on my desk, I hid my watery, swollen eyes behind my computer screen, so teachers passing by couldn't see how lame I was.

I am overcome with emotion when I think about our journey and the pride that beams from their eyes when they've learned how much they accomplished.  To play even a minuscule role in the course of their lives is humbling. I am privileged and honored to be able to teach the kids on my roster.  They are smart, compassionate, creative, hilarious.  They are determined, passionate, and eager. They are dreamers.  They are leaders.  After all the hugs and pictures and sweet notes shared, I've learned one thing:  Where relationships are built, lives are changed. 

I've finally realized after five years that this is my purpose.  I understand the magnitude of my influence.  God has called me (and everyone really) to love people - the smaller, more sarcastic ones, in particular.  Every day is NOT easy, and there are MANY difficult days.  I know I make a multitude of mistakes daily, but while my weaknesses are plentiful, I have never felt more fulfilled and humbled than when I get notes that tell me they felt loved.  My profession is not just a job to me, which is why watching them walk out of my room for the last time is so jarring.  Spending 9 1/2 months with them, these kids become my family, the lights of my life, my little brothers and sisters - even the "challenging" ones.

That is why I love my job.  That is why I can't let go.  That is why my eyes are watering again. Because they've changed me and left a handprint on my heart that I can't forget.  I've poured myself into these kids and they've reciprocated.  I have the best job in the world because I get a preview of the future.  And from where I'm sitting, I think we'll be OK.  Thanks parents for letting me love your kids.  It's not an honor I take lightly.  So, while I intend to enjoy my summer, the wound is still fresh.  

Now, on a lighter note... Some pictures with the crazies.

                                                         (A little high school musical fun)

(Apparently, I haven't mastered selfies yet.)

                                                                 (They're so cute!)

They have my <3.
May the odds be ever in your favor, class of 2020.

What I wish my students knew...

Oh, STAAR, your rigorous reins are tightened and set for Monday.  You've successfully driven all teachers into frenzied stress zombies who are ready to pull their hair out and bang their heads against a wall until you are gone.  The pressure that accompanies your presence is like a fog that clouds the confidence of everyone involved.  Once you leave, we can regain clarity and breathe clean air again.  But it shouldn't be that way, and I hate that part of my job.  I hate seeing kids stress about a test that inaccurately labels them pass/fail.

Nonetheless, we can't avoid it.  Unfortunately, standardized testing has become a depressing part of public education.  But, before we start this craziness, if I could tell my students two things, they would be this:

1. These tests don't define you.  I don't care if you don't make a 1 or a 4 on your essay.  Of course, I want you to do your best and use the strategies you've learned.  I always want you to be successful,  but I don't want you to feel like you've let me (or yourself or anyone else) down.  You've already shown me how creative, hard-working, funny, clever, and interesting you all are.  While you can and should show your personality in the one-two pages of writing you submit, those evaluators will never know the heart and vivacity that you've shown me over the course of the year.  Those graders will never read the imagery in the worlds you've created on Free-write Fridays or hear the poems you've attempted during warm-ups.  They'll never see your courage when you opened up for the first time to share your writing with your classmates, and they'll never see the warm response you received.  They'll never see the compassion you felt when you asked for my help in making someone else feel pretty, after you heard her call herself ugly.  They'll never see how hard you've worked to try something new in your writing or to think outside the box.  They don't understand what it's like to come to school and produce your best work in every class when you didn't have a meal to eat last night or this morning.  They don't understand the poor hand you've been dealt at life, the fact that your dad left, and you hate your step-dad.  They don't know how much it means to me when you hug me at the end of a challenging day.  Those evaluators don't know your passion for writing and for reading and for people.  They don't see the willingness to learn that lingers in your eyes, depending on me everyday.  They will never experience the pride I feel when you engage as a community of writers who share and learn and grow with and from one another.  They don't know you.  But I do.

I see you everyday.  I see you cowering in your seat because you don't know an answer and you're scared of what people might think.  I see you crying under folded arms, holding back the storm inside.  I see you coughing into your hoodie, toughing it out so you don't miss another day of school. I see the decisions you make, when you choose to make a positive change, and I celebrate those small victories with you.  So, no, your scores won't show you that.  They won't show you the kind of writers or the kind of people you are.  But I hope, in some small way, I have.  If I haven't shown you enough that I'm proud of you, I'm sorry.

2. I'm sorry.  You must understand that sometimes we teachers don't always know everything. I know, I know.  It's rare but true.  Sometimes I don't get it right, and for that I'm sorry.  I'm sorry if you get bored in class (especially doing STAAR stuff).  I'm sorry that I'm not more creative.  That I'm not the best teacher you've ever had.  I'm sorry if you've ever felt invisible or if I can't spend individualized time with you each day.  I'm sorry if I don't seem as receptive as you need me to be.  I may not always know what's going on with your personal life, but I wish I could show each of you that I care.  It's not always easy in the limited time I have with you, and I'm sorry I can't give you more.

While I may not always get it right, know this:  I am proud to be your teacher.  I understand you (or try to anyway).  That you don't fit the mold.  I hope you feel heard, respected, understood.  So, while your testing tomorrow, know that I believe in you.  Regardless of your results, please know that even though I don't always show it, I love you, and I'm proud of you.  You are more than a score on a test.  You are all rockstars.

Love,

Mrs. Nielswag

Thoughts of an INFP

Dusting off the keyboard again as it's been awhile since I've attempted to fill this white screen.  It's not that I haven't been inspired.  There is plenty I could write about -- my students being awesome, or my teams or resolutions -- but most of the time, my words only make it to the blue lines of my journal.  After this weekend though, I've got some thoughts swimming that I'd like to entertain.

If you've followed my Facebook feed for any length of time, you can probably tell that I really love reading about personality types.  A year(?) ago maybe my friend, Christine, sent me a link that offers a personality test and after you've taken it, it sorts you into one of 16 different personality types.  My husband, Kyle uncovered this link last night, so we had some fun diagnosing ourselves and learning how creepily accurate this test was.  According to this test, which you can find here, I am, to the core, an INFP.   Essentially, it means I'm a soft-spoken, introverted, altruistic idealist who cares too much and has overactive feels.  Although my dad tried so hard to get me to be more outspoken and assertive growing up, those weren't the traits I inherited, I guess.  However, I am married to the exact opposite of myself, an ENTP, so he balances me out.  The ultimate argumentative devil's advocate, he calls me out when my emotions are clouding my clarity and puts things in perspective, respectfully, of course, when I'm being unreasonable.  You should go read about these types and take the test.  Very entertaining and eye-opening!

After weirding out at how accurate this data was, I started thinking about how this affects my work/students/athletes.  The following is a list of thoughts that flash across the mind of an INFP teacher/coach at least once a week, if not daily:

1. I take things too personally.  Not something I'm proud of but I can't deny it.  When my kids fail a test or lose a game, I can't help but take full responsibility.  If they failed, it can only mean that I didn't fully or effectively prepare them.  The millions of other variables, like the fact that they didn't study or parents are in the middle of a divorce, don't matter.  When that happens, the introversion in me, steers me away from talking to people for fear of the blame that others must be thinking. It's all my fault.  (Exhausting, right?)

2.  I rarely feel "good enough."  I'm not fishing for compliments here.  Just one of the weaknesses of an INFP.  I want to be the best for my kids, and I don't always feel like I am.  This goes back to taking things personally. Vicious cycle.

3. Sometimes my emotions get the best of me.  The "F" in INFP stands for feeling.  That is one thing I'm not short on. ;)  But it's not always a good thing.  My anger has almost gotten me kicked out of a few games or at least yellow carded, and my enthusiasm has sometimes led to some interesting outbursts.  That I get from my dad.  In the heat of the moment, I may yell or turn a frustrated comment onto my unsuspecting young'ens.  I sometimes need to remind myself to let them know I am proud of them just for being awesome and trying their best.  On the opposite spectrum, I watch a beer commercial and melt into a big, sappy puddle.  I recently watched American Sniper.  My tear ducts are still replenishing themselves.

4. INFP's care too much about what people think.  Again, not something I'm proud of, but it's what holds me back from voicing opinions or sharing this post.  I can't stand when people are mad at me or disappointed in me or think less of me.  INFP's aim to make life better for others, and if we aren't, we feel like failures.  Can't we all just sit in a circle and sing kumbayah?  Thankfully, I'm married to someone who doesn't care about what people think, and he's again balancing me out.

5.  Positivity is preferred.  INFP's are naturally idealists, which means we try to focus on the best in everything: people or circumstances.  Bad things happen, mistakes are made, but what's the point in focusing on it?  I try to adapt this philosophy in my coaching style, asking my kids to look to the next point or next opportunity.  Who wants to focus on the negative?  This is also something I've learned from my other fabulous coaches and colleagues.  However, this is easier said than done as I do some times struggle with it.  Idealists, like myself, often hold unrealistic expectations, so we are easily let down.

6.  I care more about my kids and my work than I can physically show.  I beam with pride when they succeed and feel for them in times of frustration.  I just wish I had the time to get to know each of my students completely.  As much as some of them drive me crazy, there is always something I can appreciate about them, a trapped soul longing for connection.  Once they enter my classroom or step onto to my court, they are all "my kids," and I think they are awesome!  I just hope they leave me knowing that they are valued and loved.


So, sure, I could be a little more outspoken or extraverted, but I've learned to accept who I am.  It's just interesting to me to see how my personality affects my work habits and relationships.  Go take the personality test! It's fun.  I'm curious to see what kinds of friends I have. ;)  Happy testing!