Life...: Hard Work

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Hard Work

So I have orientation today and I’m very excited. I know it’s just for substitute teaching BUT this could be my big break! Hopefully, I will substitute in a school regularly and then end up getting my first “real” teaching job there. On the morning of the interview my friend June Bug sent me a message to say good luck. Later that day I told him that it must have been his good luck wishes because I got the job! He replied that it was not luck that got me the job; it was my hard work and dedication. I guess in a way he is probably right – being that I don’t exactly believe in luck and all. It seems like I sailed through college, I earned a bachelor’s degree in two years but it seemed like it only took weeks or at most months. However, when I think back on my college experience – it was HARD WORK. I won’t lie – it was at times… excruciating!

I specifically remember this one time my entire cohort was fed up with the class work, the professor, the homework, the projects, the hard work so to speak – so almost the entire class went on strike. I already had plans not to be there, but even if I didn’t I probably would have been an official striking member. The next week, the professor canceled our regular class agenda for the day, she called everyone to the floor and we sat in a circle to hash things out. It’s weird because I remember sitting there – in tears – telling everyone that I was NOT meant to be a teacher and I just wanted to quit. Everyone nodded their heads; we were all in agreement of the statement. Somehow we pulled through and a few of us even received an A in her course. When I think of college and working hard – I remember that class, it was a beast. But the good news is that we made it through and I can say – yes, I did work hard in college.

Here’s to hard work and dedication as I go off into the working world if for only 1 day until September.

2 comments:

ChelsieJuly 28, 2010 at 7:37 PM
I am pretty sure I started this strike! I told Kelli I wasn't going to class and all of a sudden NO ONE was!!!! That was RIDICULOUS-- And yes- hard work
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UnknownJuly 29, 2010 at 7:39 PM
Oh yes, I remember Dr. Colley. As you know, I loved her and she was my hero. I don't remember the strike, I just know I would have been the only idiot to show up. :)
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Things I Love the Most:

Things that I love the most:

The way Meagan says I love you, it melts my heart, oh and
the once I year I get to see my nephews, because I miss them so much!

The smell of honeysuckle when the spring wind blows,
and how the sunlight heats my face.

The feeling of falling in love, and the hard work it takes to stay there.

Post-It notes, school supplies, new pens and pink erasers.

Pouring my heart out on this blog, and not caring who reads it because it is who I am.

Books for kids, books for adults, books about life, books about love and books on self-improvement.

Laughter, the kind that makes you cry or pee in your pants, laughing at the silly things life holds and at the mistakes I make.

The way a child's face lights up when they realize they do "get it", and knowing that I helped them get there.

Instant gratification, even if it takes a while to get.

Peanut M&M's and decorated cupcakes, but most of all enjoying them with a friend.

The way he pushes my buttons since I'm so cute when I'm angry, and then we laugh.

Having a tiny hand in mine as we walk to the park, when you know you are their protector and guide, and somehow they know they are yours.

The smell of suntan lotion in the summer, the sun at the beach, and the pages of an old book.

Good friends, the kind you consider your family, the ones that don't leave when times are rough, the ones that don't disappear when life goes off course, the ones that don't quit or let you quit when you are tired.

Crossword puzzles, learning new words and their meanings, and then using them in a sentence so someone else can learn them too.

Most of all, I love life, I love the little things in life, the big things in life, the dreams that do come true, the fairy tale that awaits and knowing that God does have a plan, even if I don't know the outcome, I know - that my life is the way it is for a reason.

Favorite Poem:

This is what we are about:
We plant seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold the future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We must provide yeast that produces affects beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything
and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something,
and do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way....

We may never see the end results,
but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders,
ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.
~from a poem by Archbishop Oscar Romero

Where I'm From...

Where I’m From

I am from that old wood stove that crackled and hissed at night,

By the rocking chair where you were held tight.

I’m from up the hill, under the pine tree where the sap stuck to my toes

From the mile long clothesline stretched across the yard,

From the home inside that buzzed in the summer and stung my nose.

I’m from the swimming hole filled with tadpoles that hatched,

From the toads under Granny’s trailer we used to catch.

I’m from the sweet smell caught in the breeze,

OH that honeysuckle made me sneeze.

I’m from the bus stop where I got my first kiss,

And when my daddy found out he was....

I’m from Andy Griffith reruns, Heman and She-ra shows, cassette tapes I made for my friends, star bright, light bright, and bears that cared.

From leg warmers to rolled down socks, tight rolled pants and where turtle necks, and sweaters, were paired.

I’m from the Little House on Prairie and plenty of Hail Mary’s,

From standing on my knees and those old rosary beads.

I’m from that pan of shepherds’ pie for

which I despised.

I’m from snow so deep you couldn’t see my house,

Even though I was tiny as a mouse.

Christmas with cookies and milk, stockings that hang, newspaper wrapping that covered a doll, when all I wanted was a basketball

OH- and turkey for carving.

Where I’m from you’re not made of glass, children are seen and not heard and we don’t have enough money to heat the whole world,

and by the way eat your veggies because children in Africa are starving.

These are my memories,

Those were the days.

To Be A Teacher Means...

To embrace diversity and love every smile regardless of learning ability, physical capability, color, race, religion, or any other discrimination people face.

To not only love to teach people to think for themselves, but love to be ever learning and ever evolving into something greater.

To try not to change the world, but to change a child, make them be their best even if you have to give them a piece of your soul.

To be your best everyday, even when it seems that you have given your all.

To fight for social justice, because it is right, moral and a social necessity.

To know that teaching has its successes and its failures. If a teacher isn't making mistakes then they are probably not taking risks.

To take risks and learn from the mistakes.

To have a classroom that feels like a home, where I, my students and their parents can feel comfortable and loved.

To overcome the daily challenges of teaching with a smile on my face and a warm heart.

To teach the "unteachable" - to have someone learn something when every other teacher said they were "unteachable".

To not lecture of group of young minds, but lead them through thoughts and questions they have about the world.

To know, I am good at what I do because it is my passion - not just a paycheck.

To always remember I was born to teach, and this I shall do - someday :)