Day 31: all of this has been said before

Today is the last day of a month long writing challenge.
You can read many slices and reflections at Two Writing Teacher blog.


You all have probably met The Inner Critic, the one living in your head, trying to stop you form writing. From the start of this challenge my inner critic has been loud and annoying.

"You shouldn't accept the challenge, you don't have time."
A valid point. Anyone in their right mind wouldn't try to squeeze daily writing into their fully packed days of work and family life. I have discovered that writers need to be a bit crazy. I shush the inner critic and write.

"Your will run out of ideas."
Regular writing has shown me that inspiration is all around. You can keep lists, collect mentor texts, steal and borrow ideas, write quickly without thinking, take photos, look around, write more lists, use prompts, fill in sentence starters, follow given structures,  experiment with different writing exercises, write few more lists. I shush the inner critic and write.

"Your writing is average."
This loud comment rings in my ears. La-la-la-la, I sing over it. I know that I need to write to become better at writing. Besides I am not entering any writing competitions, so who is going to judge? Playing with words is part of the fun. When the texts gain beauty, the joy grows. I shush the inner critic and write.

"Your life is ordinary."
Yes. Isn't it great? I have an ordinary life.  I don't need drama and excitement. I prefer the sweet small moments. I love my life with its ups and downs, twists and turns, quiet and loud, messy and pretty.I wouldn't trade it for anything. I shush the critic and write.

"All what you are saying has been said before."
No argument here. It doesn't mean that I have to stop writing. If I would follow your logic I should never make Tiramisu because people have made it before. Besides, did you notice that all you are saying, my inner critic, has been said before. Shush, and go try writing.

I shushed my inner critic and wrote thirty one days in a row. Now I'm ready to join my fellow slicers in the grand celebration of finishing the month long writing challenge.

Hurray!

Day 30: playing with titles and comments

The March writing challenge is almost over. I collected snippets of comments and some blog titles to create a small list poemish slice.  I decided to focus on the positive of daily writing.


Isn't it wonderful to start each day fresh
sitting by the window
having so much to to write about and share
searching for the right words
writing
bit by bit
catching light
noticing with amazement
acknowledging the beauty
finding the precious moments
considering the happiness in the heart
reflecting on the blessings
capturing gratitude
celebrating life
possibilities are endless
just keep writing

Day 29: making my day

Read more slices at Two Writing Teachers

A recipe for a wonderful day

• turn off internet
• ignore boring tasks
• invite your daughters for a trip to a city
• let movie magic carry you to a fairy tale (Cinderella)
• please your taste buds in a French Cafe
• wander around in a bookstore wonderland

or

• turn off internet
• ignore boring tasks
• invite mom, sis, nephew, cousin and cousin's daughter over
• please your taste buds with salmon-broccoli quiche and Tiramisu
• take turns dancing with Wii
• watch "Frozen" with mom's commentary

Sometimes my favorite day is being home alone, reading, reading, reading. This weekend I loved having people around me.

My oldest and youngest (picture shared with their permission)

Middle one was on a chemistry competition, and hubby visited his mom. 

Celebrate: life

Celebrating with Ruth.

Writing slices with Two Writing Teachers

"Every experience, no matter how bad it seems, holds within it a blessing of some kind. The goal is to find it."  - Buddha

Having a birthday on a day when you find out about someone else's death can shake one badly.
It makes it very difficult to celebrate life when you know that someone else will never have another birthday, never hug children, never laugh again. The thoughts keep spinning about the unpredictability of life and tears are impossible to hold back. Looking at the quote from Buddha may initially make angry. How can you find a blessing in a day like that?
Yesterday was that day.
End of a day I understood the message better. The birthday wishes in person or through calls, in messages and on facebook, the comments on my blog, suddenly felt stronger, more caring, more meaningful. (It may have been my imagination or wishful thinking but it felt real.)

Today I celebrate life. Every day of it is precious. Every day of your life is precious.

Day 27

I received an email today with news that my former colleague from 15 years ago, a woman about my age, a mother of two little children, died. I am turning a year older today. I can not fit these two things in my mind and heart. 

I felt I couldn't write.

I thought that I shouldn't write.

I needed to write.

1. Life is a miracle
2. Life can be amazing
3. Life can be unfair
4. Wonderful things happen to good people
5. Horrible things happen to good people
6. Some things make perfect sense
7. Some things make no sense at all
8. You can't control everything
9. You can't control everybody
10. You can control how you what you do and say
11. You are allowed to feel all the emotions
12. Crying helps
13. Laughing lifts you up
14. Yelling at someone doesn't help
15. Hugging feels good
16. You need people around you
17. You need time for yourself
18. Limited facts give a limited view
19. You usually consider situation through your experiences and values
20. It is useful to consider different perspectives
21. It is necessary to try to look at the world from someone else's eyes
22. You hardly ever know everything about a situation 
23. You hardly ever know everything about another person
24. You sometimes don't know and realize everything about yourself
25. You can't do it all by  yourself
26. You are allowed to ask for help
27. Only you can figure out what matters to you 
28. Only you can figure out what makes you happy
29. Only you can figure out what keeps you going
30. You can learn form others
31. You can consider advice
32. You make your own choices
33. The choices you make are the right choices at the time you make them
34. It helps to learn to forgive others
35. It helps to learn to forgive yourself
36. You can't change others
37. You can change yourself
38. You don't have to be perfect
39. You have one life
40. Take care of yourself
41. Take care of your loved ones
42. Be kind to everyone
43. You don't know how long your life is. Live it well.

Hugs to you all.

Day 26: Student-led conferences - the highlight of the school year

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Yesterday was one of the I-don't-want-to-be-a-teacher kind of a day. We were preparing for the student-led-conferences, and nothing went as planned, emotions were heated, I thought the students would not be ready, and the day ahead might end in a disaster.

Days change. 

Feelings change.

Today the student-led-conferences have made me smile.

I have felt:

Delight - seeing the students taking charge and sharing what they had learned and created.

Appreciation - parents and grandparents took an hour to attentively listen to the children.

Relief - all the nervousness subsided and the students were focused to show their learning.

Entertainment - the students explained the different forms of energy with enthusiasm.

Surprise - the students shared more than we had originally planned. 

Enjoyment - listening the students read books and personal narratives to their parents.

Amusement - to hear some new ideas on what writers apparently do.

Satisfaction - seeing kids being proud of their accomplishments.

Affection - the visible love and compassion between parents and children.

Today I love being a teacher.

Day 25: I sometimes don't want to be a teacher

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Sometimes I don't want to be a teacher. 

It's a job where you can never say that you have achieved hundred percent success.

Even with all the theoretical knowledge and experience you can't solve each problem.

The mixture of personalities, motivations, and expectations pulls you to hundred directions.

You can have the most excellent plans but what happens in the classroom depends on gazillion factors.

You know you have done all you can, yet, the feeling of not enough keeps nagging.

It's impossible to explain all you have to know, understand, consider, and do in a classroom.

On some days you are on guard and running hour after hour.

The results of your work aren't instantly visible.

When your heart leads you, it's harder to protect it.

Sometimes I don't want to be a teacher.

I want to quit, escape and hide.

I know the feeling will pass.

Most of the time I love my job.

Day 24: What kind of writer are you?

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What kind of writer are you?

Nobody ever asked me this question when I was a child.
My third graders are faced with this question when they write reflections for the portfolios.
They have no problems coming up with the answers.

" I am a quick and nonfiction writer. I write at home and at school, on I-pad and paper. I like to write about me. When I write, I feel happy because I like writing."

"I am a happy writer. I write behind my desk. I write after school. I have written some stories when I was friend with Dora. I like to write funny stories .I feel that writing is good and cool."

"If you are a lazy writer like me then you don't bother writing it again you just revise it by reading it again and thinking how can I make this better".

"I am a creative writer. I write at school and I once wrote a book in second grade and third grade. I've written a pirate story.  And a old man story. I feel awesome about writing."

"I write all the time when I am bored. I write on paper to be not bored. but I not all the time write in my life. I-Pad is better than writing. I have writing stories with my friends. And I write things random.
I feel when I write like I am a writing a story for myself so I can read it to myself so I feel like an author."

What kind of writer are you?

The answer to this question morphs with time, takes on different colors depending on the mood and light, reflects reality to a degree but is never objective.

Thinking of who I am today I can answer:

I am the kind of writer who likes to compose in the head before writing. Sometimes the ideas start growing from a word, a phrase, an image. During driving or walking my mind writes, rereads and revises. I try to catch my mental ideas as soon as possible, but sometime the beautifully composed pieces disappear.

I am the kind of writer who sometimes doesn't have a clear idea of what I wish to say and I write to figure out what I am thinking, feeling or understanding. I let the words pour out. My journal is filled with ramblings that don't necessarily make any sense to anyone else but me.

I am the kind of writer who is still exploring, experimenting, and playing. I don't have a big dream or a clear purpose, a noble mission or a significant message. I write for myself mostly. I still find it surprising, yet very pleasing, that my words stir emotions and thoughts in my blog readers.

I am the kind of writer who enjoys witty use of words, and aims toward that, but I find it so much easier to write in simple clear words. It takes me effort to spin the words around an idea to build text volume, or to search for the extraordinary words. That's why descriptions and poetry challenge me.

I am the kind of writer who is stronger in theory than practice. I know about the importance of routine, using a journal daily, making time for writing, yet, I admit, it doesn't happen. I admiringly notice craft moves of different authors, yet, quite often I return to what is safe and known to me. 

I am the kind of writer who is still afraid to share with my friends and colleagues that I blog. Five years of writing, yet still a secret blogger. Not sure how to explain that.

I am the kind of writer who enjoys writing even when faced with challenges and doubt. Writing is my free choice not a job, a task, an assignment. The only deadlines and expectations I meet are the ones I have given myself. I always have the right to stop writing. I choose to continue. 

I wonder:

What kind of writer are you?

Day 22: Things I'd rather be doing right now

Created using Pic Collage app
Idea from Marit

Day 22: capturing gratitude, spring poem

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Serendipity,

Precious moment,

Rejuvenating light

Illuminating

Noteworthy newborn,

Gentle early bloom.

Celebrate: writing and surprises

Celebrating with Ruth

Writing slices with Two (Six) Writing Teachers

Julieanne wrote: Writing is a gift I'm giving myself."

Such a beautiful statement. 

Your writing has value even when nobody reads or responds. The stories you collect, the words you choose, are part of who you are, how you see yourself, and how you change. When you write for yourself and dare to put it out for others to read, you may receive some surprises in return. You will always have pieces that you admire, but find few or no readers, and some other pieces that seem to attract attention. And some of your words will start living a life of their own. 

This week:

I got inspired by Jaicee Blais and dared to share the struggle in my classroom. I am not giving up on finding the solution.

I enjoyed reading about and thinking along Julieanne's picture book week. I will try some ideas.

I appreciate that Michelle played with my words and photos. I am ready to experiment.

I tried this week to stay true to writing narrative slices, yet the most well received post was 

"My daughters, book spine poems." I look forward to reading other book spine poems. Elsie already shared some.

I wrote yesterday about the word treasure hunt in my class and how the kids seemed to be disappointed. Some time after I posted, before the end of the day, the kids requested to continue with word trading. I was thrilled. 

My classroom work and my writing this month haven't been exactly what I envisioned. I am still learning to be patient (trust me, not easy), reminding myself that I do what I can, the best what I can do at that moment, and learn from the experience to make changes in the future. 

When it comes to learning, you can't push or speed up; children learn different things when they are ready. This realization lessens my worry that I keep speaking about the same things over and over in my class, using different words, examples, approaches. Through the repetition the understanding settles, values surface, and change happens.

When it comes to writing, you can't push; learning to write, to describe events, to express thoughts and feelings, takes time.  This realizations lessens my worry that I keep writing about the same things over and over on my blog. Through the repetition the understanding settles, values surface and change happens. This is the gift I am giving myself when I write. 

Thank you , Michelle!

Thank you, Julieanne!

Day 20: word treasure hunt

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"We are going on a word treasure hunt" rippled waves of surprise through the third grade class. 

Unfortunately, when they discovered that I had not brought shovels, and the area of search was limited to our classroom, the excitement was replaced with loud sighs and mumbles. 

I didn't explain to them that I wasn't ready to let them loose over the school. In my imagination the third grade class would be like a tornado and sirens and a stampede of elephants merged in one, creating chaos and disaster everywhere. I made a mental note to prepare a better treasure hunt for the next time, for the next week. 

"We always start with a search close to home. You can use the read aloud books or your individual reading books or Literature Circle books as territories to find treasures from. You can bank your words in your little word bank booklets, and later we can trade the words," I continued with the plan for the writing workshop. 

We looked for exciting words during our fictional narrative unit at the beginning of the year, we had some charts, but never created functional ever growing word walls. We had made individual dictionaries but we hadn't been purposeful in regularly filling them.  Now, during the personal narrative unit, I decided to give another try to collect and display rich vocabulary.

Slightly disappointed, but dutifully following teacher's instructions, the students grabbed piles of books to their desks to get started with the task. To my pleasure the disappointment faded quickly, and the hunting instincts kicked in, and at least we got started  with creating a word treasure chest. 

After 15 minutes we sat in a circle again, reading out loud what we had found, sharing and trading. For the ones who didn't find any words, we acted like Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. I hoped that at least some of the words would find their way to the student writing.

While the students banked words, I stayed on the carpet, picked up three picture books, a pack of post its and began my hunt. Books nested, faint chatter, burst, gently, bittersweet, depressing thud, brilliant white, crinkly - I discovered and collected. I did't know yet, where I would use the words, but I responded to their whispering promises to rescue me in the times of need.

Stealing Like an Artist writing workshop

Day 19: mission impossible

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I crumple pieces of paper and plastic and throw them all over the floor.
With appalled faces the students watch as I keep littering the carpet.
When I stop and ask, "What would happen if people everywhere would do what I did?"
"The world would be covered with trash!"
"Animals would die!"
"You are making pollution!"
"It would be horrible!"
I know that they know about caring for the nature. I draw the crumpled pieces on the board and show with arrows the possible consequences.
Then I draw a person with a huge speech bubble and fill it with tangled lines.
"When you speak too loudly, make silly noises or blurt out random words, you are creating word litter, noise trash, sound pollution."
I draw arrows to show how the noise and words can hurt both the ears and feelings.
I feel I am on a mission impossible to control the language of third graders

Jaicee Blais from MISSBLAIS wrote about Bad Words in fourth grade. Inspired by this I am willing to show you the ugly side of my classroom. The bad, silly, ridiculous, absurd, foolish, inappropriate, nonsense, unnecessary language has create a noise monster in third grade.
My observation and conclusion: many (not all) third grade boys have no filter between their brain and a mouth.
Burping, snorting, croaking and beeping are the basic level noises.
Then there is a boy dictionary full of words that achieve the desired result of laughter, surprise, annoyance, shock or admiration.
Not once have I heard my students cussing or cursing, but they all have claimed that someone else used the d-word, sh-word, f-word, h-word. They see a logo of facebook and an uncontrollable "Ooh, Aah" echoes over everything because they saw the letter "F." Once I had a girl counting in Russian and the boys were convinced they heard cursing. Sometimes they simply stretch out "fffffffffff" to get a reaction. Never angry or malicious, usually without any reason.
Recently they came up with a secret language where "sweet" is a bad word.
At some point the boys need to test out how people react when they use "sexy" or "poop."
Equally thrilling is to see words like saxon, button, or firetruck.
For a bizarre reason boys in my class find words babushka and banana hilarious.
Their absolute favorite is "lol" serving as a greeting, a connective and an invitation.

This year majority of the students in my class are boys and the sound/noise/pointless speaking issue is bigger than usually and harder to tame. It's almost as if the monster feeds on every single sound and is becoming resistant to any kind of cure.

I understand that grade 3 boys love to experiment, seek attention and test boundaries and as a teacher I need to respond with care and firmness, discussing purpose and audience, expectations and rules, what is respectful and appropriate, how their word choice affects people around them, how their need for attention causes distraction, ways to stay focused and not get distracted by others, importance to think before speaking. We have THINK (is it true, helpful, inspiring, necessary, kind) marks all around the class. We have dug into the reasons for this behavior (what is the need to get attention mostly), ways to achieve the results with positive actions, we have made agreements and plans, tried out different incentives and consequences, included the parents and the principal.

Let me clarify. We have quiet time, we have temporary success with self-control, all the the children in my class are sweet and caring, they know and usually follow routines and procedures, they all show understanding and feel sorry when I speak to them individually, they are super at coming up with ideas how to make better choices. But the battle with noise monster seems endless an is tiring.

Others say, "This is just a phase. It's the chemistry of this group. Change takes time. You are doing all you can. Boys will be boys."
Though these would work as good excuses, and maybe I should just accept that this year is the year of the noise, I am not ready to give up. The next thing I am going to try is mindfulness training. Our director, a yoga instructor, has promised to help me with this.

Day 18: if I had all the time in the world

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I navigate through the traffic of a school cafeteria and find a seat next to my colleagues. Trying to ignore the cacophony of cafeteria chatter-clatter I lean in to make sense of the conversation. Exercise is the topic. 

"If I had all the time in the world..." starts a fourth grade teacher.

Laughter erupts before she gets to finish her sentence. Teacher and having time sound funny together.

"I mean IF I had all the time in the world I would add some weight lifting to my week, just to tone the muscles not to grow them," dreams the petite thirty something Japanese woman, who currently gives Zumba once a week at school, takes ballet twice a week, and teaches Tango classes on the weekends.

"If I had all the time in the world, I would stay home and read, read, read," I confess, the forty something Estonian woman, content with weekly ballroom dancing and Zumba. 

"I once read a quote - I sometimes get the urge to exercise, but I lay down and wait it to pass," shares a student's shadow assistant, a twenty something American guy, who runs, goes to gym regularly and is looking for a personal trainer. 

Another burst of laughter bounces between us before we continue sharing our exercise experiences.

I don't share how difficult it is to keep the habit of exercise. A cozy couch, the warmth of a fleece, the company of a book have such a strong pull compared to the huffing and puffing, I'm out of breath and energy, sweating and sore of moving one's body. I know that my two colleagues, like many other people in the world, have managed to make exercise as part of their being, training for health and fun, their bodies yearning for movement as much as they need oxygen for breathing. 

The muscle I like to exercise the most is my reading brain. I wasn't kidding when I said that if I had all the time in the world I would read, read, read. It's a pity reading doesn't shed calories and keep one's body fit. 

Day 17: I told you so

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As soon as T. sees his daily dose of math practice, he responds with whining, moaning, complaining, refusing, and avoiding.

"I can't. It's impossible. I will never be able to do it. It's too hard," he spins his excuses.

"You know your basic facts. You can do three digit addition. Use what you know and you can do four and five digit addition. Give it a try," I pat him on his back and leave him with the task. 

T. fiddles with his pencil, rotates the math journal, swings with a chair, takes his shoes off, checks out the ceiling and the floor and everyone else in the room. When the time is up, he hasn't even attempted to solve a single problem.

Fortunately I have the freedom to adjust our schedule and I plan some independent study time to the end of the day. When the independent study starts, the students choose to write, create inquiry posters, practice math or read. T. tries to seat himself on the couch with a book, when I remind him of the morning math. 

His face and sigh make it sound as if I was trying to use medieval torture tools with him.

"I know you can do it. I promise it won't you take even five minutes to finish the problems. I will be next to you in case you need help," I leave him no option but to bring a pencil and open the journal.

He writes the first computation and with guiding questions he finishes it. The next three he talks through and writes himself. He finishes in no time.

"It went fast. It was really easy," T declares.

I told you so! 

"I hope you feel good," I smile.

T. nods and smiles back. 

Day 16: my daughters; book spine poems

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My daughters

The Oldest

This is My Daughter

The Book Thief

Fangirl

Heir of Fire

Daring Greatly

Champion

The Middle Daughter:

This is My Daughter

Quiet

Makin' numbers

Energy and Reactions

The Story of Chocolate

Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain

The Youngest:

This is My Daughter

The Dreamer

Mosaic of Thought

Creativity

The Child of Wonder

Book Spine poem 2014

Book Spine Poem 2013

Book Spine Poem 2012

Book Spine Poem 2011

Day 15:

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The last year's faded green grass and moss, bare branches with buds tightly closed, a chilly wind blowing away the sun's warmth made it hard to believe that spring was close. A brown shawl tightly wrapped around her body Mary strolled in a small garden searching for the signs of spring and seeds for future writing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
She knew that the spring would come. It always did. The seasons changed.
But ideas.
Where were the ideas?
Where were the words?
She would have loved to write like her favorite author whose last book she had read in the car on the way to the countryside. The words climbed off the pages, twined around her heart, blossomed in her mind, and gently grew dewdrops in her eyes. Mary's word magic was in early stages. Sometimes she managed to breathe spark of life in to her words and they whispered back to her. Sometimes she arranged and rearranged words, cradled and hugged them, prayed and begged, but the words became pebbles and sank to the deepness of disappointment.
Mary knew that she couldn't force the spring nor words.
She decided to go inside and make a cup of tea.

Celebrate: written and unwritten slices

Doesn't it look beautiful: Celebrate Slice of Life?

I celebrate the slices written:

Forgetting where I sent my students

Stealing like an artist

What if

Catching light

and

Teacher thoughts

In addition I wrote about scientists, mathematicians and writers on my class blog.

I celebrate the slices unwritten:

Cha-cha and foxtrot dancing with hubby on Monday 

(the weekly dancing is part of who we are as a couple)

Mimm and other children singing in a cafe on Tuesday

(she recently joined a singing class and this was her first small performance)

Mimm and I listening to the best Estonian Voices on Wednesday

(the best Estonian Jazz group sang a cappella in six voices.)

Enjoying an eventless afternoon on Thursday

(Zumba was cancelled, and this became the only day of a week when I stayed home after school.)

Chatting, eating, laughing with my three friends in a cafe on Friday

(We all have very busy lives, but decided that if we waited for a slower time it might never arrive, so we went out without guilt, sharing the downs and ups, the doubts and dreams, celebrating life and each other.)

The idea of possible slices is always longer than the number of slices written. The choices of structures and perspectives would allow to write about the same moment several times. The after thoughts and comments can become slices also. Yet, it's still sometimes hard to get started with writing, and I don't always know how I decide what is the best writing idea for a particular day. It's certainly fun to look back to what my week looks like from a screen.

Wishing you all a sunny day and many writing ideas!

A photo from my Wednesday's slice.

Day 13: teacher thoughts

   Have you met teachers who share what happens in their class and it sounds like a fairy tale? They seem to manage to fit a lot into their week, and lessons go according to the plans, students are active and produce amazing work. And then you worry about all the things that didn't happen in your class, and plans that went askew, to do list that you didn't get even half way finished, and you wish to cry because the students still need more time to understand concepts and the products they create make you sigh silently inside.
   I know a lot of it has to do about how you see and present things yourself. What is that you highlight and how you approach the shortcomings. I have learned to focus more on the positive when I share with others, but my inside worries still speak loudly.
   We had fantastic mini-lessons on writing, students showed that they understand a lot about author's craft, the students chose topics for personal narratives, everyone has their first draft ready, and I noticed their attempts at using description, dialogue and emotions.  Yet, when I look at all the drafts together they don't match what I envisioned receiving. We don't have on demand writing prompts, but if we did, I am afraid my this year's lot is nowhere close to meeting the expectations, with few exceptions. They are all trying their best, and they are growing, and I am doing my best in supporting them, but I wonder whether it is enough.
   The students created marvelous math posters to show strategies and tools of subtraction. We had some exciting discussions on comparing and evaluating the strategies and tools. Yet, when they had a math test, they didn't use the tools or strategies, many of them were still not able to show the different models of subtraction. I believe strongly that it is essential to build a strong foundation, so they understand concepts and don't mechanically memorize procedures. Part of me wants to continue with subtraction, but I know there is so much more we are expected to do in third grade.
   We have been studying about energy, and students started experiments. First it was all play for them, but after a visit from a high school science teacher, they are serious about collecting and recording data.
Listening to their talk and looking at the written/drawn pieces they have created and the experiments they are conducting, I can see young scientist growing their knowledge and understanding. Yet, I often doubt whether as a school we have pushed some concepts to age levels when the students are developmentally not ready yet to grasp the concepts. I also worry if I have given them enough time to explore, enough authentic opportunities to learn. According to our school curriculum I should spend more than half of my day with inquiry. Since I see that my students need strong support in improving their math and literacy skills, I have devoted more time to these. And it still feels that the days and weeks are too short for teaching and learning.
   Overall my students are sweet. They play together. They learn together. Everyone is included. We solve problems together. They forgive each other. Yet, we still have the continuous problem of loud voices, the need to speak constantly and at the same time, the eight-nine-year-old silly boy language, the need to tell on others and not notice own behavior mistakes. I know its all developmental, and not all dependent on my actions and words, but I still feel that I am judged by the way the third grade students behave at school.
   I have learned to celebrate what goes well and letting go of the need everything to be perfect. But I know I will always, always have the worries and doubts. I sometimes wonder if life would be easier if I had learned more to bang on my chest for the good things.

One thing I have learned well, and it is vital for staying healthy, is to take breaks when I don't think about school and focus on life outside of it.

You can see more of my classroom here.

Day 12: catching the light

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My yesterday's poemish slice worried about getting lost in the internet and missing noticing the spring and asking on big question.  I experienced a beautiful moment this morning that reminded me of the answer that sometimes gets buried under the busyness of the ordinary days.

Entering my classroom,  I noticed the stream of light illuminating the tulips on a windowsill. Without unbuttoning my coat, postponing the orders of a to-do-list, I placed my purple school bag on a chair, and pulled out my IPad camera to capture the beauty. The light seemed to want to prove me wrong in believing it was just a form of energy. As if alive it danced, smiled and invited me to play. Standing back and leaning closer, changing the angles, I responded to its invitation. Together we chanted a message for me to hold on to.

Pause. Notice and celebrate to the little moments of beauty and quiet.