For Pete's Sake

Today I had one of those moments. Those moments that leave you speechless and humbled. Those moments when you find yourself so surprised yet chastise yourself for ever doubting it could happen. I don't quite even know how to put it into words but maybe it will come to me if I just tell you the story.

It all started the first semester of my first year teaching. It was my second block class and I had the Agriscience class from you-know-where (as my BT coordinator says.) They were loud, they were mean, they were rude. There were some really great kids in there, but there were a few bad apples that spoiled the whole bunch. One of these apples was *Pete. Of course *Pete isn't his real name but if one of the seven of you who actually follow my blog read this as report me to my principal, there's no telling what kind of trouble I'd be in.

*Pete did not want to be in the class (or in school.) As such, he dubbed himself "the disturber." He was bound and determined to distract as many people as he could, disrupt every lesson, and show disrespect every possible moment. So needless to say we butted heads. Like, a lot. 

He was that kid that you secretly pray won't be at school today because you just need a break (but shows up every day anyway--you assume just to spite you.)

I remember the struggle lasted the whole semester. I talked to coaches and teachers. I attempted to talk to his parents. "They don't let him talk more than about 10 minutes at a time in prison, Miss," I remember him saying.

So *Pete finally made it out of Agriscience and even passed the test, much to my surprise. And as the semesters went by I listened as other teachers complained about having the same exact problems with him and I just gave a relieved sigh that it wasn't me anymore and wished them luck.

And then it happened. The first day of the Spring 2014 semester, my second block Animal Science students were filtering into class and finding their assigned seats. And in strolls *Pete. He strolled quietly to my desk and said, "Miss, can I go see about getting my schedule changed?" I looked up at him and feigned hurt feelings as I said, "But *Pete! Don't you want to be in my class?!?"

He was totally silent for a moment, no doubt wondering if he should answer truthfully or correctly. He chose correctly. "Yes, ma'am."

At this point I made a choice. I decided to lay it all out in the open, level with him, shoot straight. "*Pete, you don't have to lie to me."

I sent him to change his schedule, and much to our dismay, there was nowhere else he could go. He was in my class again, to stay.

So over the last 12 weeks we've definitely had our moments and he's been far from my star student. We've adopted this unspoken policy where he doesn't bother me and I don't bother him. And it's been working... Mostly.

So today, we took a field trip to a farm. There we met Sam, a beautiful paint Tennessee Walking horse. As our host was discussing basic horse maintenance and safety, she asked for a volunteer to pick Sam's feet. No one volunteered so she randomly chose someone. Who? *Pete.

I immediately started preparing my apology to our hosts for the disrespectful declination he was surely getting ready to give. And then he spoke. Here it was. (I'd have to remember it carefully so I could accurately recount on his discipline referral.)

"Yes ma'am, I'd like to try."

First moment of shock. So then I prepared myself for the next phase of intervention-- dragging *Pete back to the bus beating him for endangering himself, his classmates, and the horse with his ridiculous behavior.

But *Pete took the pick and a little nervously tapped the horses leg as he was shown. The horse lifted his foot and *Pete caught it, gently but firmly. With more care and precision than I knew he had, he began cleaning the hoof, stopping from time to time to pat Sam and tell him what a good horse he was.

I watched all this in silent awe (until the thought occurred to me that no one at school would believe it unless I took photos.) *Pete, who had never cared about anyone but himself. *Pete, who had never worked a day in his life. *Pete, who never once expressed any interest in anything in my class.

As our host showed the class how to pick the back hooves, *Pete watched her closely standing just behind her with one had on Sam. When she turned around to ask for a volunteer, *Pete was already there, hand out-reached to take the pick and clean Sam's back hoof. 

Except for one particularly hilarious moment when we all thought *Pete was going to get pooped on, I stood in silence watching him carefully work and being disappointed in myself.

In that moment I realized that I had given up on *Pete. I was just going through the motions trying to get him out my door and failing to see that he had potential, failing to reach out to him to help him really grow. I didn't care to find out what he liked or what he didn't, what he really cared about or didn't, what he wanted for his life or didn't.

As a first semester, first year teacher, I had formed my opinion of *Pete and closed the book. And so when he came into my class for the second time, even though I had changed and grown, I never have him credit for having changed and grown too.

I wonder now what I could have done differently. If I hadn't judged him so harshly in the beginning, could I have had the opportunity to make a positive impact on him? If I had taken the time to get to know him, would I have seen his behavior as an outcry for love and attention? If I had been then the teacher I am now, what would I have done differently for *Pete's sake?

The saddest part of this whole revelation is that for *Pete, it's almost too late. He is graduating in less than a month and going out into the world. He he will remember me as the teacher who always sold him short, hounded him about his work, judged him without ever knowing him. (At least that's the way I'll shamefully remember myself when I think of him.)

But the good news is, next time I'll know. And next time I run across a student who grates my nerves, who cooks my grits, who burns my biscuits, who makes my ears turn bright red and my skull feel like it's on fire, there is always more to the story. And as a teacher committed to helping all students learn, it's my job to find out the rest of the story and do my very best to help them grow. And I know I'll never forget... for *Pete's sake.

This totally counts...

So my blogging goal was to blog at least once per week. As always, I started out strong and then got overwhelmed with life and missed a week.

This week I am still overwhelmed with life-- cleaning refrigerators and meticulously updating my planner-- but I am here, plotting my next entry and eating frogs left and right. 

It's short and without inspiration, but as far as my "once a week" goal goes, this totally counts.

Perspective.

It was a typical Friday morning. I was running late getting out the door because, despite the ease of choosing my outfit of a hoodie and blue jeans for casual Friday, I just couldn't get motivated. It was the end of the week, I was tired, and all I really wanted to do was stay in bed.

I hopped in the car and started driving only slightly above the speed limit to get to work. It was drizzly and dreary and as I crossed the river, I encountered some of the thickest fog I've seen in a long time. There could have been an unnecessary giraffe euthanization (sorry, that's another story) 10 feet ahead of me and I would never have known. I couldn't see the curves in the road, cars coming or going, or anything else but fog.

So I grumbled to myself as I was forced to slow down.

Who invented fog anyway? Stupid fog thinks it's *SO* special because it's a cloud on the ground. Newflash! Clouds are SUPPOSED to be in the sky! Go home, clouds! You're drunk!

Then, in true hollywood fashion (all that was missing was the dramatic music), I was reminded of the first time I ever flew in an airplane. I was fascinated by the clouds as we flew through them. THEN, I thought it was the coolest thing ever that we were right in the middle of the clouds. When we reached cruising altitude and I was able to look down on the clouds from above, they were beautiful. The looked soft and comfortable and glowed warmly with the reflection of the sun light. I loved them.

So what was the difference between flying through the clouds in the sky and driving through the clouds on the ground?

Perspective.

*Insert epiphany here*

The difference between getting out of bed because you have to and getting out of bed because you can is your perspective.
The difference between being too tired to go to work and having a job to make you tired is your perspective.
The difference between having to spend yet another holiday with your crazy family and getting to spend your holiday with loved ones is your perspective.
The difference between receiving terrible restaurant service and being fortunate enough to have someone serve you dinner is your perspective.
The difference between having a dead battery on your cell phone and having a cell phone with a dead battery is your perspective.
The difference between the glass being half full or half empty is your perspective.
The difference between living in fear and living is your perspective.

For most of life's bumps and bruises, there's nothing we can do to change our circumstances. We can't change the hand we've been dealt. But we each have the power to control how we react. We get to decide how we deal with those circumstances-- our perspectives.

And the only difference between being lost in the fog and being on an adventure in the clouds is your perspective.

The Greatest President of All Time

I'm not usually heavy into politics, but one particular individual caught my eye several months ago and I just haven't been able to get enough of him. I find myself looking forward to his broadcasts and hanging on every word, wishing the world would listen to his wisdom. I find myself quoting him in class and using him as an example of exemplary leadership. I find myself wanting to adopt him. He is: Kid President.

Wise beyond his years and with the help of his family, Kid President strives to make the world more awesome by sharing his thoughts with the world through a YouTube series. His most recent video, "A Letter To a Person on Their First Day Here" has been viewed nearly two million times. I'm not sure if it's because I so strongly believe in the things he has to say, or if he just gives me hope for the future, or if he's just that darn cute-- but for whatever reason, the words of wisdom from this video have stuck with me. So today I'm sharing it with you (yes, all ten of you) along with some of my favorite pieces of wisdom.

Some days gross things will happen. Some days awesome things will happen. Some days you'll get ice cream. Some days you won't. Some days your kite will fly high! Some days it'll get stuck in a tree.

There's plenty of reasons to dance. You just gotta look for them.

Just treat everybody like it's their birthday. Even if they don't deserve it. Because we all mess up sometimes. The biggest mess up? Not forgiving each others mess ups. 

You're made from love to be love to spread love. And love is always loud. Even if hate has a bull horn, love is louder! Let your life be loud.

You're going to be important, and you're going to do a lot, and you're going to smell great. But don't get too busy. Remember to let everybody know you're glad they're here.

You're awake. You're awesome. Live like it.

Now, don't get me wrong, we've had some really great leadership in this great nation. But there is just something special about this kid and I think he may just be the greatest president of all time.

The Teacher's Playbook: Germ Edition

If you've ever seen the show "How I Met Your Mother" then you know that Barney has a lengen-wait for it-dary playbook that he's developed over his years of experience as a complete dog. Inside are all of his tricks and schemes and ploys to "get the girl."

I'm learning, in my third year of teaching, that teachers too have a playbook. In fact, I'd venture to say that teachers have a LOT of different playbooks with their tricks for making it through the school day in one piece and making some learning happen along the way.

So today, when one of my students asked me what my classroom procedures were for students who needed to vomit during class, it prompted me to consult with my own Teacher's Playbook: Germ Edition.

Plays to Keep Me from Getting my Students' Germs

• The "Make them mix potting soil in the greenhouse so that their hands are dirty and they HAVE to wash them with antibacterial soap."
• The "I love you but I need you to stay on the opposite side of the room."
• The "Nonchalantly placing tissues on the desk of a sniffly student without interrupting the lesson."
• The "Nonchalantly placing the trash can beside the desk of a sniffly student so they can throw away their own tissues without interrupting the lesson."
• The "Nonchalantly picking up the tissue box while placing the bottle of hand sanitizer on the desk of said sniffly student without interrupting the lesson."
• The "Carry the trashcan everywhere you go (even outside) so that no one has to see or clean up vomit."
• The "I'll give you five bucks if you make it in trash can. Ten if you make the toilet."
• The "Eww, you've been teaching those germy kids for three hours, don't you DARE eat that apple without washing your hands!"
• The "Here, take this note as a hall pass to see the nurse because there's no WAY I'm letting your germy hands carry the class hall pass!"
• The "Last five minutes of the day on Friday sanitation drill."
• The "Go home kid, you're drunk! sick! drunk? sick. Actually I can't tell. Just go home."

So today I ended up using the "Carry the trashcan everywhere" and the "stay on the opposite side of the room" plays. He didn't actually throw up but he did look awfully green. I suppose time will tell if the plays were successful. Until then, bros don't let bros get sick. So share your plays to add to the Teacher's Playbook: Germ Edition.

No worries.

Those of you who know me know that it's not uncommon for me to... try to... be able to... direct the course... of... life. 

Okay, you can stop laughing now. I'm a control freak.

I like to be in control of most aspects of my life. I like to organize, to plan, to know exactly what's going to happen. And when I can't be in control I worry. And to deal with the worry, I compensate for my lack of control by trying to force things to happen. While I consider my patience with others a virtue, patience with things beyond my realm control and influence are a little harder for me to deal with. So, I've resorted to using the force, the dark side and the light side, to try to at least give me the false sense of control and security. 

Example: when Mark and I were watching the entire series of "LOST" on Netflix and I couldn't BEAR the heartbreak of my favorite characters dying, I Wikipedia-ed it so I could prepare myself in advance. I also did that with "Battlestar Galactica." And "Olympus Has Fallen." And season 8 of  "How I Met Your Mother."

Another example: When my nephew was having major surgery, I randomly decided to clean the refrigerator. 

It wasn't even my refrigerator. 

Come to think of it, anytime I'm upset or worried about anything, I tend to clean. As though scrubbing like crazy will wash away the problem.

But that's just it, isn't it? The problem? The real problem is not the situation that has sent me into a downward spiral of yellow rubber gloves, swiffer mops, and overdosing on Wikipedia plot summaries. The real problem is my lack of faith.

Ouch.

Just as I was coming to this realization last night, at a friend's encouragement, I read Matthew 6:25-34. Each verse brought a bit more clarity... and shame.

Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? 

You belittle yourself and forget your own value. You are worth so much in God's eyes. Of course He'll take care of you. You are precious.

And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life? 

Worrying just eats away at the joy each day brings and it still doesn't change anything. It causes you to waste precious time.

...You of little faith! 

Ouch.

For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

God knows exactly what you need and has a plan to give it to you. In His time. But you must seek Him. Have faith in His timing. Trust his love for you and love Him. 

So, there it is folks. Just trust God and life will be peachy. Thanks for reading!

Love, Liz.

Wait, what? No, it's not that easy. Not even close. Because you all well know, and I have thoroughly established that I am a control hound. And in order to not worry myself to death over things beyond my control, I need to do something. I can say "I trust God" all day long and still not experience peace. And when I don't feel peace then suddenly I'm resorting to my own devices again just to try to feel better, to feel I have some inkling of control.  (See also: I cleaned someone else's fridge.)

So what can I do? Pragmatically speaking, what does "seeking God" look like? 

To answer this question, I did what all millennials do: I googled it. Here's what popped up.

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Phillipians 4:6-7)

I have to say, I was somewhat disheartened by this. I've read these verses time and time again and have been praying frequently about my concerns and, while it afforded me peace for a little while, the worry still crept back in. Slowly but surely, the worry clouded my focus and I was suddenly disinfecting the trash can and cleaning the dryer vent. 

But when I read it again, I realized that I have been missing some key instructions. 

"Supplication" means to pray to God with earnest and humility, remembering He has already given so much more than any of us deserve. So step one, humble myself before God. I have no right to ask Him for anything, yet His word encourages me to make my requests known.

And then the real epiphany: with thanksgiving. This is the part I had been leaving out. I went to God complaining about all that was wrong and that worried me. But when I did, it never occurred to me to truly humble myself and pray to him with Thanksgiving.

So, I tried it. I started thanking Him for the things that were right: my family, my job, a warm home, my health, my safety, His love. And as the list went on I suddenly felt shame again; shame that in spite of all the blessings in my life I still felt that I needed or deserved more. Realizing that God had provided as the book of Matthew promised he would I felt a weight lifted from my shoulders, a burden set free from my heart. I began feeling God's promised peace and as I did I was thirsty for more wisdom, more instructions.

So I googled again. 

But let all who take refuge in You be glad, Let them ever sing for joy... (Psalm 5:11)

 That's it. The stopper in the bottle that keeps the worry out and the peace in: worship. It's not enough to realize we are blessed. It's not enough to give thanks for our blessings. To truly experience God's peace we have to take every opportunity to praise him for his goodness. In my world, that means singing, music, reading, writing, and sharing love and joy with those around me. 

The thing I'm still trying to come to terms with is my humanity. The fact that, as a human, I am programmed to worry. It's normal, and given God's provision in the scripture (and google) He knows that about me and the rest of humanity. It's not a test, it's human nature.

The test lies in how we handle the worry. We can let it eat us alive, ruining the few precious days we have here. We can let it steal away our joy. We can let it cause us to have the cleanest house ever (well, actually... no nevermind.)

Or, we can humble ourselves and talk to God about it. We can thank God for what we have and don't deserve. We can ever sing for joy that there is a God who knows us and loves us anyway, who listens to us even when what we have to say might not be that important in the grand scheme of things, and who provides and protects us because we are His.

Today, I feel great. Life is not perfect; there are still some big decisions coming up, some improvements to be made, and struggles we'll face. And I will worry, because I'm human and I'm me and that's what I do. But at least now I have a plan, a strategy for dealing with those feelings of doubt and worry. 

I'm a firm believer that in order to kick bad habits, you have to replace the negative behavior with a positive one. As I was googling, I ran across an article that put it this way: Worry replaced by Prayer equals Trust. Now, I've never been once for math and equations but I'd like to complicate this one just a bit:

Worry+Prayer+Humility+Thanksgiving+Worship=Faith in Action

I don't know if it'll work every time, but I do know that it's a good start to living a life with no worries.