Happy Holidays 2011!

Happy Holidays (Christmas, Festivus,, Hannukah, Saturnalia, New Year’s, etc.) one and all!

Anyone who is receiving this message knows my penchant (or lack thereof) of timeliness, so you understand my tardiness in sending out my Christmas newsletter. Here’s a small taste of 2011.

A Sunset Walk on the Beach

My travels didn’t take me too far this year, but I did get to have two memorable vacations.  During Spring Break, 9 of my fellow teachers and I drove to Dauphin Island, Alabama for a week at the beach.  We rented a beach house and enjoyed every last minute of down time we could muster.  The Saturday morning we arrived to balmy 75+ degree weather, it was snowing back home in Missouri. It was just the type of vacation I needed – fun, relaxing, and blissfully warm!

In July, I went to Las Vegas.  I have had an aversion to Cirque du Soleil, but I ended up giving in to peer pressure and went to see Love – a Beatles tribute.  It was incredible!  The combination of recordings, the narrative, and the movement (not just the wicked trampoline tricks!) was awesome.  In Sin City I also managed to run into Vanilla Ice at the Flamingo hotel.  (And by “run in” I mean he was scheduled to be at the pool for 2 hours one of the days we were there).  Here is photo proof  - word to ya mother.

Cindy's friend, Mr. Ice, my friend Cindy, and me

After spending 10 years teaching World Studies (a history/English block class) with one partner, I embarked with a new partnership with Ashton Honeycutt in 2010-2011. Even though I was technically the “veteran” teacher, Ashton encouraged me to try things not just because they were how we always did them, but because they were good for kids.  Unfortunately, Ashton’s position was only one year.  I am hoping we will teach together again soon. In the meantime, I have spent my first full year teaching only single sections.  This school year I have one section of Humanities and four sections of English 2 (World Literature for 10^th grade).  It has been a challenge to teach one class four times in one day.  I’ll say this for teaching - there is never a dull moment!  This summer I got to experience my first taste of teaching college.  Through the Missouri Writing Project (which I have participated in for 3 years) I co-facilitated the summer institute for 2011. 

Maverick and I at Adam and Misty's wedding

I gained new family members this summer when my brother Adam married Misty.  Though they now live in Phoenix (and as of December 1^st Adam is no longer in the military!), the wedding was in St. Louis.  The wedding party did have to deal with dive-bombing cicadas during the outdoor pictures.  Misty’s son Maverick has easily made his way into the crazy Brooks family.  Maverick gave a very moving speech at the wedding saying he hadn’t had anyone to call Dad for a long time, but now he has one.  I am officially now an aunt (though I have been an “aunt” Leia to Danielle’s girls Avery and Tessa too).  Now there are more children to spoil!

I am ready to bid adieu to 2011 as it also brought an unwelcome visitor right after Thanksgiving.  I came home the Sunday after Thanksgiving to find my house had been broken into.  Thankfully nothing irreplaceable was taken (electronics, jewelry, and some random things like my toaster), but I was shaken up.  My amazing friends, colleagues, and family helped me in many ways – one of which was a deductible/new jewelry shower.  Their generosity, the Energy Star rebate from my new sliding glass door, and the speed and efficiency of my insurance (hollar for American Family!) helped me see the goodness that surrounds me.  I truly feel blessed.

As always, I have to give a top ten list of books to read.  So grab a title and start reading!

1.     1. The Hunger Games – yes, I was slow on the uptake with this one.  But the dystopic world in the book is totally addicting.  and Jennifer Lawerence looks to be a pretty good fit as Katniss in the upcoming movie.

2.     2. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks – a non-fiction book that doesn’t read like one.  The sad story of Henrietta Lacks’s suffering with cancer and how she forever changed science does a great job of portraying all the characters in full dimensions.  It is interesting to hear who people think the villain is.

Book Club Ladies being sassy like Henrietta Lacks

3.     3. Female Chauvinist Pigs – technically an “academic” read, this is an unfortunate reality of the world we create for women. 

4.     4. We Were Here – a Gateway Award nominee for 2011-2012, this book gives an insight into a group home Miguel gets sent to after serving time in Juvi.  The honesty is brutal and readers constantly want to know what got Miguel sent to Juvi in the first place.

5.      5. Thirteen Reasons Why – Two weeks after Hannah commits suicide, Clay comes home to find a package of audiotapes (yes, they do still exist!) explaining the 13 reasons why she killed herself. 

6.     6. The Help – another book I was slow to pick up, but once I did, it was so hard to put down.  I actually liked the movie as well as the book (a rare accolade from me), though there are obvious differences.  I highly recommend reading it before seeing the movie.

7.     7. Honolulu – a novel set in Korea and Hawaii in the early 1900s.  I was especially intrigued by this book since I have been to both places.  The main character, Regret (yes, her parents named her that), is sent to Hawaii as a picture bride for a Korean worker. 

8.     8. The 19^th Wife by David Ebershoff – a novel based off of historical characters.  Jordan was excelled from the polygamous society in Utah where he grew up.  Ten years later, his father has been murdered, and his mother – the 19^th wife – is charged.  Jordan’s story is intertwined with Ann Eliza Young – Brigham Young’s 19^th wife who challenged the idea of polygamy within the Latter-day Saints and the Constitution.

9.     9. World Without End – a pseudo-sequel to Ken Follett’s Pillars of the Earth, this story takes place a hundred years after Kingsbridge Cathedral has been built.  This is a good beach or plane read – it is long, but reads quickly.

1010. The Book Thief – Liesel is a foster child living outside of Munich during World War II.  She has a passion for reading – so much so that she steals books, a task that becomes challenging as the Nazi’s burn books.

Here’s to a wonderful New Year!                                                Leia

Who are we really serving?

I've had one hell of a school year.  And I still have 5 days until 2nd semester.  This does not bode very well for the coming year.

Even though I am now a veteran, I still feel like a newbie in some situations.  One area that is a strength for me is my connection with kids.  I care about them.  I want them to learn.  I hope to make education something meaningful for them in their life.  This is my vision as a teacher - I meet my kids where they are and try to help them on their journey of self discovery.

Lately, it feels like the bureaucracy, red tape, "the man" - all of these factors beyond my control have been major obstacles I have to dodge.  When I have to spend hours trying to organize two different classrooms, when I have to stop worktime for my students and their final to have a fire dril, when I spend more time planning alternative lessons for students who are suspended than I do the original lesson - something is wrong.  Teaching is such a demanding job that it is almost natural to look for the nemesis to blame problems on.  But I usually feel like I am in the trenches with fellow teachers I respect and hope to emulate, which makes the weight of the job easier to bare.

Far too often this year though, I have felt isolated in my job.  For 11 years I team taught a World Studies class, so I was always with another teacher.  Yes, we had a double classroom, but we also had two people to handle behavior, two people to try and reach students, two people who could share the burden of minutia and other paperwork that bombards our inbox.  I loved it.  I took American Studies in a class set up like this in high school and it made so much sense to me.  Initially, I didn't realize this is what I wanted to teach (I thought I was more an American Lit type of gal), but I was thankful for a job.  And along the way I realized that World Studies is what I teach well.

My first partner teacher really liked having student teachers and in the 10 years we taught together, I worked with him and his 11 student teachers.  Along the way, I had 4 student teachers of my own.  Last year, I got to work with the awesome Ashton Honeycutt who challenged me to do things not because it was the way it was always done, but because it was what would help students learn.  Because her position was only a one year spot, she was not able to come back this year.  And much to my disappointment, no one in the history department was willing to teach block with me (or any other English teacher for that matter).  So because it would have been too difficult to force a teacher to work in a partnership, the 80+ kids who signed up for World Studies this year had to be placed in other classes.  In other words - as a school we did what was easiest for one department - not what was best for kids.

For the past year and a half, we have been looking at changing our schedule from a traditional 7 hour day to a block schedule.  After much deliberation, we came to a consensus that a modified block - where all classes would meet on Fridays - was the best bet.  We would be assured 3 days a week of seeing our students, we could give them the option of having 8 credits per year, and we would have the benefit of fewer transitions in one day.  Then last week, the proverbial feces hit the rotating air device overhead, spewing scatological matter over all.  The schedule we wanted couldn't happen.  It was too difficult to configure.  So again, instead of doing what we agreed on being student friendly, we did what was easiest for adults.

To be a good teacher, I think you have to be passionate - it is after all a service profession.  And yes, I am a bit of a drama queen, so sometimes I take that passion too far.  This may be my grown up equivalent of a temper tantrum.  Unfortunately I don't have the grown up equivalent of stomping my feet, crying "It's not fair", and demanding my way.  What we do with our students is so important and significant.  I hate to think that so many decisions are being made because they are easy for adults.  That is not my mission or vision.  Maybe I need corrective lenses, or maybe I am staring at the wrong line of letters and I can't see clearly; whatever it is, it needs to be fixed soon.  It is giving me a head and heart ache.

Control Alt Delete

I wish my brain had the equivalent of a control alt delete function.

It never turns off - like the constant random program on your task manager that has some function, but you don't know what exactly.  My body is exhausted yet sleep alludes me again.

Insomnia is not the real culprit here.  This time the Trojan Virus was something much more sinister and much more disconcerting.  Last night (Sunday night) I came home from a day of prepping for my week at school and some retail therapy as my reward for 6 hours of work.  I returned home around 8:00 PM and found something unsettling.  I walked into my house from the garage and noticed my bedroom light was on.  This is odd because I am a tree hugger and rarely leave lights on if I am not home.  My cat Trigger, normally anxiously awaiting my return and subsequent feeding, did not greet me at the door.  I turned the corner into the living room and still no cat.  I found it odd, but for all of his lovable qualities, Trigger is not a social cat.  In fact, he may qualify for some kitty Prozac.  So I continued my routine, plugging in the Christmas lights at the front of the house, bringing in some bags from the car, and then I fed the elusive Trigger.  His food bowl is in the dining area which is connected to the kitchen (which is connected to the hip bone, which is connected to the thigh bone, etc., etc.).   After I fed him I felt a draft.  It's November, so drafts aren't unusual, but when I looked where Trigger finally emerged I saw where the draft came from.

My back door - a sliding glass door - was open about 2 feet and Trigger had been hiding in the vertical blinds in the corner.

I immediately closed the door, finding it wouldn't latch properly.  I used some elbow grease to get it at least mostly closed.  Looking around for something, I pondered grabbing my keys, a vase.  Something to help protect me.  I knew that I needed the safety of someone or something.  I found a pair of floral scissors, basically one step up from safety scissors, and proceeded to look through the rest of the house.  Opening all the doors, turning all the corners, I feared what I would find, but thankful nothing was there. 

Sense kicked in and I called the police.  And then I called my best friend.  She wasn't available, so I called my kind, generous friend Jeff who lives a few minutes away.  He jumped in his car, talking with me the entire time while I waited.  I began to mentally catalogue what was missing while still trying to calm down. 

The officer and Jeff arrived at the same time and helped me make some sense (at least chronologically) of what happened.  Statements were made, pictures were taken, and my sense of safety plummeted.  My sene of vulnerability sky rocketed. 

It wasn't just the loss of tangible items - my laptop, only 3 months old :(, my phone charger and power cord for the computer, my ipod and speakers, and some jewelry.  It sucks loosing those things I worked damned hard to earn.  But more than that was the loss of my sanctuary.  My home is my refuge.  It is a place I have lived for 8 years - longer than any other residence in my life.  I (again) have worked damned hard to afford a mortgage and I am proud of the fact that I have created a comfortable life independently.

But now these ideas have been shaken.  Whoever came into my house opened my sock/underwear drawer, riffling through it for money.  They handled my personal things, tossing socks and pantyhose aside looking for something valuable.  My beloved Grandma Brooks' desk was defiled by these people who had no qualms with taking my personal belongings and taking away my sense of peace.  These thieves broke into my locked sliding glass door, necessitating some decent construction work. And, to top it all off, the bastards tracked mud throughout my clean floors.

When I try to sleep, I can't shut off my brain from these violating thoughts.  My gut tells me this person or people were in my house when I drove up, turned on the garage door, and scared them away.  I was gone for 7 hours on Sunday, so it could have happened anytime, but I doubt someone would want to break in during daylight hours.  I potentially was seconds away from encountering this person.  And as much as I would like to think I'm a bad ass, who knows how that could have turned out.  I am very thankful things were not worse, because they could have been.

Unfortunately, this isn't the first time I have been a victim of a burglary.  In 2008 I was mugged in Soulard in St. Louis.  I wasn't physically hurt, though I believe the person who stole my bag cut through the strap with a knife and could have easily cut me.  And not 6 weeks later, I came home from work around 4:30, parked in the driveway for 10 minutes, left again and realized my purse had been stolen. 

I know bad things happen all the time to people who don't deserve it.  But why must it keep happening to me?  Karma ultimately will win out and these people will receive their justice - I truly believe this.  I just hope mine is coming soon.  My wonderful friend Beckie told me "the universe isn't personal" when it comes to this type of bad luck.  I am trying to convince myself of this.

With my new iphone (which thankful was with me and I don't have to replace), I want to ask Siri to please tell the people who robbed me to fuck off and give me back my sense of security.

I would be remiss not to acknowledge one of the unexpected joyous moments that has happened because of this, and my other incidents.  My friends, family, neighbors, co-workers, everyone who knows me has given such an outpouring of love.  I cannot begin to say how much that comforts my shaken heart.  These gestures of friendship, support, and the self sacrifice people have given make me realize I haven't been truly robbed of anything that is irreplaceable. 

 

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Oops I Hurt Myself Again

I am amazed at my ability to self-destruct.

I'm not talking about cutting or self-mutilating or even getting sucked into a no win relationship.  I am talking about plain ol' balance and grace.

These are qualities I do not possess.

In the past week I have managed to completely wipe out at school- adding a nice shiner to the knee - and chip a tooth.  Though I have been known to use hyperbole in class and tell kids I want to punch them in the face, my trip to the dentist wasn't a result of fisticuffs.  Nope, it was old fashioned teeth grinding.  Apparently I have some mad skills in the mandibular region as I managed to grind off a part of my left front tooth.  (Perhaps reflecting an inner desire to be able to authentically sing "All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth"?)

Wipe out in front of multiple students:  Point against me.
Causing bodily injury and financial loss in the form of dentist bills:  Point against me.

Luckily there were some kind souls at Hickman who didn't laugh too hard when I fell and helped me retrieve all the crap I was hauling into school.  And some of them were teenagers I didn't have in class who were genuinely concerned.  Point for Humanity.

Though I don't particularly enjoy massive amounts of dental work, at least I was able to get in quickly through some helpful scheduling by the receptionist and because my wonderful co-workers willingly volunteered to cover my class for me (shout out to George Frissell!).  Point for Humanity.

Professionally and personally, this year has been trying, but I find great comfort in knowing kindness amongst friends and strangers does exist...even if I have to bruise myself in order to reaffirm this message.

Fear

This ache cannot be pushed aside, laughed away, or cried out.  It just simply is.  A haunting, dull emptiness that just sits right underneath my heart.  How can something be if it is a void?  I can't explain the physics, nor can I truly explain its presence.

I want it to be gone.  I long for the day when I stop sobbing at seemingly unimportant things that remind me of it.  How can a simple photograph elicit this kind of reaction?  Perhaps the photo is just the catalyst and I am all primed up, waiting for that one little thing to remind me.

My sum total is so much more than this ache.  I have achievements, credentials, awards, knowledge, love.  I am a part of a bigger community, a family, a school.  Shit, people friend request me on facebook - that's a sure sign of being wanted, right?  Why do these other pieces - the ones that have substance and form and function and purpose - why do they get stifled when the tears start falling?

Perhaps this nothing truly is something - fear.  I am afraid that my life hasn't begun.  I am afraid that if I am always alone, I won't be valued by others.  If I never find a romantic companion I fear I will miss out.  What if I am never a mother?  My entire being I have envisioned my future with a husband and children.  If this isn't to be, does that make the rest of my hopes and dreams invalid too?

Logic always makes its way into this internal debate.  Of course my life has meaning.  I am loved.  I love others.  My daily routine helps to make the world a better place, most of the time at least.  I have made my mark on the world and there is certainly more to come.

I just drum my fingers, waiting for the time when I have conquered this fear.