To Wagner Butte and beyond!

I recently went on a 10 mile hike with a group of my friends. I'll be honest: The morning of the hike, I was dreading the first half, knowing it would be almost all uphill. However, being surrounded by good friends and nature made the agonizing pain in my hips and left knee (don't I sound old?) bearable. It didn't hurt that since there were so many of us there was constant encouragement. I've come to realize that I NEED to be pushed by other people. Often I can't find motivation within myself, so it helps when it comes in the form of a friend. This is probably why I struggle getting to the gym and staying there for more than 20 minutes.



Thanks to the help and encouragement of good friends, and the desire to see the view from the peak of Wagner Butte, I made it to the top! We all made it! And what an amazing sight it was. To our right we could see Mt. Ashland and Mt. Shasta. Down below we could see Emigrant Lake (near Ashland) all the way to Central Point, where we could barely make out the Table Rock formations. If we looked straight ahead, Mt. McLoughlin could be seen.



On our way down dark clouds were beginning to roll in, and the day after our hike, Wagner Butte was surrounded by voluminous clouds so thick that it could be not been from Talent. It looks like we picked the perfect day for the hike.

On a different note: between Facebook and blogs, a lot of people have been posting things they are thankful for. I really like that. I'm going to attempt my own list, and hopefully continue to add to it.

Things I'm Thankful For:
1. Darren and I's recently aquired love (and borderline obsession) of chess.
2. Sushi. Sushi. Sushi. How did I go my whole life without divulging in the delectable deliciousness of white rice, raw fish, and seaweed?
3. Fall, the season. I LOVE LOVE LOVE autumn colors. Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Brown. I also love the crisp air, the cool temperatures, and comfy sweaters. And how could I forget Pumpkin Spice Lattes?
4. Acoustic guitars.
5. Good books.
6. Sharing laughter with friends and family.

With you.

Sometimes I feel drunk with you. Like we're the only two people in the room or on the street. And even though we're surrounded by crowds of people, it doesn't matter. What matters is that I have the most fun with you. You're the one who makes me laugh. Nearly everything you say puts a smile on my face. Happiness burst from my heart and takes the form of laughter that can not, that will not, be silenced.

A Few Thoughts

If you teach who you are, you must know who you teach.

You aren't a number, a color, or a inanimate object. You are living, breathing, and feeling. You are not void of emotion. You say what you think, smile when you are happy, frown when things don't go your way. You are intelligent. You see things as they should be, not always as they are.

Every good writer knows that they must know their audience. In the same way, a good teacher must know his/her students. As English and Writing majors, we were taught to analyze literature from different perspectives. As teachers of literature and writing, why wouldn't we teach to different perspectives?

There is beauty in diversity. Our quirks are what makes us unique. Our differences are what make us beautiful.

Think About It

I never thought I'd be pursuing a career that would lead to such inner turmoil and conflict. I feel like I am being told/taught one thing and living another. Don't get me wrong - the MAT program is great, but I'm having a tough time translating the things I'm learning in class to the actual classroom. Granted, I'm only a student teacher, but I can't even get kids to quiet down when I ask them politely. One of my favorite students told me I smile too much and that's why the other students aren't afraid of me. I don't want to instill fear, just respect.

I was raised by two parents who taught me to respect my elders. Apparently this isn't something that parents nowdays are teaching their children. This is what frustrates me to no end. The program emphasizes that "we teach who we are" which sounds great in theory, but practically, we teach a bunch of kids who are disrespectful. And then we make excuses for them like the kids are the problem. Oh, sure Tommy has a rough home life and yes, Suzy was adopted, but Tommy and Suzy aren't the problem. Their parents are.

I don't understand people that choose to have kids and then don't do everything in their power to provide them with love, safety, opportunity, etc. If you're too selfish to take care of children, don't have them. There's this great thing called abstinence. Maybe you should try it sometime instead of bringing more children into the world who will be victims of abuse, hunger, etc. because you're too self-absorbed to see that your children are taken care of. I just don't get it. If abstinence isn't for you, try birth control. Lots of it.

It's not fair that so many children have to suffer because of their ignorant parents. It's not fair that teachers get blamed for kids being bad kids when teachers are just trying to do their job.

Inspiration on Aisle Two

A brief encounter in the tea aisle of the grocery store left me challenged and inspired. I have to give a passion presentation in one of my classes this week. I have five minutes to share something I am passionate about. My guitar, more importantly, music, is my passion of choice. Being that I'm bringing my guitar - and sharing about how much I have always loved music - chances are someone will want to hear me play and/or sing. This terrifies me. I can sing at church, with a microphone, in front of dozens of people. But sing and play in front of my cohort? Terrifying. Plus I don't have a powerhouse voice; I'm never going to be a diva. When I get nervous, I don't sing very loud. In my head, this sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. In my heart, I want to sing at the top of my lungs.

I found myself sharing this with someone who attends the same church I do - in the middle of the grocery store. He reminded me that "it's about the passion, not the performance." We need to be faithful in the small things, so that God can use us to accomplish even greater things. While in the bigger picture, this may be a small, small event, in my life, it could prove to be monumental. I believe that God gave me the gift of worship. I believe that because of Him, I am able to play the guitar. I believe that He gave me a voice so I could worship Him and share His amazing love with the world. What good is a gift if you don't use it? What good is a light if you hide it under a bushel?

Rise to the Occasion

My heart broke today - and for the first time in a long time, it wasn't for myself. I've only been student teaching for one week, yet I already feel a compassion for students who two weeks ago I couldn't have picked out in a crowd. Now I find myself wanting to defend them, wanting to make all their hurts go away, wanting to wrap my arms around them, as a mother would, and let them know "it will be alright."

But what if it isn't all right? What if the problems plaguing them now never go away? What if the damage caused by parents, friends, and bullies sticks with them, haunting them every day for the rest of their lives? What then?

What about the kid who comes to school hungry, who doesn't have money for food or clothes? Who will take care of him? What about the girl who was abused, who now has suicidal thoughts, who has the emotional mentality of a three year old?

Everyone is fighting a battle. We can't just "leave our problems at the door." Yet this is what we expect students to do.

One of the grad school mantras is that "we teach who we are." I am caring and
compassionate. I am concerned for the well-being of my friends, my family and now my students. I laugh when things are funny, and sometimes when they are not. I dwell on things. I worry, but not near as much as I used to. I like to call things as I see 'em. I am a planner, a problem solver, a thinker. I have a let's-get-to-the-bottom-of-this mentality. I have a disdain for injustice. I don't know how someone can hurt an innocent, defenseless person. I had to fight back tears today while hearing about the homelives of many of my students. I find myself fighting back tears quite often. I think every person has value, every life is worth living. I don't understand violence. I avoid confrontation. Yet right now I find myself wanting to confront all the problems in the world, or at least the problems facing my students. I find myself almost sick with frustration as I contemplate the everyday woes my students, and people worldwide, are facing.

How can I make things better?

I am not just a future English teacher. I am a woman who will take a stand. I am a woman who will rise to the occasion. If I cry, you will see my tears. If I think something is funny, you will hear my laughter. If I am frustrated, you will know, because passive will no longer be an adjective used to describe me. If I teach "who I am" then I cannot sit back and ignore the injustice all around me.

Row, row, row your boat

Today was the first day of the rest of your life. It was also a day which you had been highly anticipating for months, for years. Today you started grad school and you did so by singing a round, or three, of "Row, row, row your boat" with your fellow grad school students. You know which boat I'm talking about. The metaphorical boat the will guide us all gently down the streams of life if we row together as a team.

Your frustrated because your usual cynical nature detests when people make cheesy metaphors out of something that really might just be a boat. But for the sake of grad school, for the sake of good grades, for the sake of pleasing your professors and appeasing your cohorts, you will do your part in rowing the boat until you all have made it safely to shore around this time next year.

And while you do question the validity of the song - Life is but a dream? Really? - you realize that to succeed in life, you may have to set aside your prejudices, open your mind and see the value in other people's opinions, despite how different they may be from your own.