I have been kind of down all afternoon. I didn't know why I was in such a blah mood, until I finally realized that my body and my emotions were subconsciously reacting to an upcoming reality.
I only have a week left with my 6th graders.
And I may never see them again.
I just want them to know that they are the best kids in the world.
And I want the other teachers to know this. And their future teachers to know this. And their parents, if they don't already know this. And their future significant others, friends, enemies, employers, cowokers...
The best kids in the world.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Monday, April 16, 2012
Demonstration of Thing I'm Good At #9
My list of talents is pretty small*. And of this small list of talents, most of them are pretty strange. (Proof: During counselor talent shows at camp, I was always behind the scences. In the words of my boss, "Sorry George, I don't think you'll get much applause from pulling a kid on stage and emotionally connecting with him.")
However, I am good at writing. I aced countless essay tests not necessarily by knowing content but by having a way with words (commonly known as "BSing"). I'm good at formal writing. I'm good at informal writing. I'm good at knowing the linguistic background behind words and their meanings. And I'm freaking awesome at grammar.** The only B I've ever made on a college paper (or any paper, for that matter) was on a 5-page paper that I wrote in 2 hours, after pulling an all-nighter to write an 8-page paper for a different class. And quite frankly, I was embarassed that my paper wasn't as good as it could have been had I spent more than 2 hours on it.
Anyway, all this to say, using writing as your creative outlet has it's pros and cons.
Major Con: Writing requires you to have words. When an artist has no words for his feelings, he paints. When a musician is speechless, he composes. When a writer needs to express herself and pour out her heart, but has no words to do so, or rather has so many words she doesn't know where to begin, she is pretty much out of luck.
Maybe I'll take up cake decorating or interpretive dancing.
*Things I'm Good At:
1. Writing
2. Cleaning
3. Cutting worms
4.Encouraging
5. Making playlists/mixed cds
6. Handling money
7. Being bluntly honest
9. Using more words than necessary to make a point
and, according to my family,
10. Being mean to boys.
**If you are wondering why I have right to brag about myself, please refer to the above list.
However, I am good at writing. I aced countless essay tests not necessarily by knowing content but by having a way with words (commonly known as "BSing"). I'm good at formal writing. I'm good at informal writing. I'm good at knowing the linguistic background behind words and their meanings. And I'm freaking awesome at grammar.** The only B I've ever made on a college paper (or any paper, for that matter) was on a 5-page paper that I wrote in 2 hours, after pulling an all-nighter to write an 8-page paper for a different class. And quite frankly, I was embarassed that my paper wasn't as good as it could have been had I spent more than 2 hours on it.
Anyway, all this to say, using writing as your creative outlet has it's pros and cons.
Major Con: Writing requires you to have words. When an artist has no words for his feelings, he paints. When a musician is speechless, he composes. When a writer needs to express herself and pour out her heart, but has no words to do so, or rather has so many words she doesn't know where to begin, she is pretty much out of luck.
Maybe I'll take up cake decorating or interpretive dancing.
*Things I'm Good At:
1. Writing
2. Cleaning
3. Cutting worms
4.Encouraging
5. Making playlists/mixed cds
6. Handling money
7. Being bluntly honest
9. Using more words than necessary to make a point
and, according to my family,
10. Being mean to boys.
**If you are wondering why I have right to brag about myself, please refer to the above list.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Dancing with Chuck E.
When I was a little kid, I went to many birthday parties at Chuck E. Cheese's. When you're four, Chuck E. Cheese's is the place to be. Pizza, games, cheap prizes, and people dressed in animal costumes...a dream come true, right? Well, to be honest, I never truly loved Chuck E. Cheese's. I liked it alright, but it was never my favorite. Which is probably why at one particular birthday party, when Chuck E. Cheese himself invited all the children to dance in a line around the room, I sat it out.
That's right, I was the kid who chose to sit in her chair while all my friends danced around the room with a giant mouse. I know exactly why I didn't dance. It wasn't because I was too cool. Surprisingly, it wasn't even because I was afraid of the creepy man in the rat costume. No, I chose to stay put because it was way out of my comfort zone. Despite the fact that the rest of my friends were doing it, I was afraid of how I would look. I was even afraid Chuck E. himself might talk to me, and I would have no idea what to say.
I remember a parent trying to persuade me to join, but I still refused. I don't remember who this parent was, but I remember them asking, "Are you sure you don't want to dance? You'll regret it if you don't!"
Well, the mystery Momma was right. Immediately after the dance was over, I wished I would have joined. I never got another chance to dance with Chuck E. Cheese after that. And to this day, I don't know how it feels to dance with a giant creepy mouse.
Today, I am experiencing a similar regret at a passed-up opportunity. It was right in front of me, and I had even thought about it for a long time, picturing it in my head. And yet, when it came, the shy kid at Chuck E. Cheese's came back again. I was afraid. Afriad I might make a fool of myself. Afriad it would be awkward. Afriad someone would talk to me, and I would have no idea what to say.
I chickened out and passed it by. And I regret it even more than I regret not dancing with Chuck E. I am praying the opportunity comes agian. But if it doesn't, I will never know what could have come from it.
From this day forth, I vow to swallow my pride and take opportunities head-on. I will never sit out another dance agian.
That's right, I was the kid who chose to sit in her chair while all my friends danced around the room with a giant mouse. I know exactly why I didn't dance. It wasn't because I was too cool. Surprisingly, it wasn't even because I was afraid of the creepy man in the rat costume. No, I chose to stay put because it was way out of my comfort zone. Despite the fact that the rest of my friends were doing it, I was afraid of how I would look. I was even afraid Chuck E. himself might talk to me, and I would have no idea what to say.
I remember a parent trying to persuade me to join, but I still refused. I don't remember who this parent was, but I remember them asking, "Are you sure you don't want to dance? You'll regret it if you don't!"
Well, the mystery Momma was right. Immediately after the dance was over, I wished I would have joined. I never got another chance to dance with Chuck E. Cheese after that. And to this day, I don't know how it feels to dance with a giant creepy mouse.
Today, I am experiencing a similar regret at a passed-up opportunity. It was right in front of me, and I had even thought about it for a long time, picturing it in my head. And yet, when it came, the shy kid at Chuck E. Cheese's came back again. I was afraid. Afriad I might make a fool of myself. Afriad it would be awkward. Afriad someone would talk to me, and I would have no idea what to say.
I chickened out and passed it by. And I regret it even more than I regret not dancing with Chuck E. I am praying the opportunity comes agian. But if it doesn't, I will never know what could have come from it.
From this day forth, I vow to swallow my pride and take opportunities head-on. I will never sit out another dance agian.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Ridin' Solo, Part 2
Student: "Ms. Wyllia, did you have a Valentine this year?"
Me: "Nope."
Student: "Awwww. That's so sad!"
Ouch.
Me: "Nope."
Student: "Awwww. That's so sad!"
Ouch.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Ridin' Solo
Tomorrow is Valentine's Day.
In the 22 years of my life, I've never had a Valentine.
I'd like to have a Valentine one of these days, but I'm not obnoxiously against February 14, like the rest of the single population always seems to be. In fact, sometimes my fellow singles annoy me more than what seems to be the majority of happily taken/engaged/married people.
It's not worth the trouble, being unhappily single.
It's ok to dream, but learn to be content with where you are.
I mean, live a little and get over yourself. Sheesh.
Anyway. There's my promised post. It is dedicated to my facebook friends, who have inspired this side of me.
In the 22 years of my life, I've never had a Valentine.
I'd like to have a Valentine one of these days, but I'm not obnoxiously against February 14, like the rest of the single population always seems to be. In fact, sometimes my fellow singles annoy me more than what seems to be the majority of happily taken/engaged/married people.
It's not worth the trouble, being unhappily single.
It's ok to dream, but learn to be content with where you are.
I mean, live a little and get over yourself. Sheesh.
Anyway. There's my promised post. It is dedicated to my facebook friends, who have inspired this side of me.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Snow Prayers
I'm bargaining with God for a Snow Day tomorrow. I know that's not how it works, but maybe God will get a kick out of it and bless my efforts just for the heck of it.
If it snows tomorrow, I will write a blog post.
I will also work more on my Exit Portfolio, spend more time on my lesson plans, and do the assignments for my online class BEFORE the last minute.
I will pray for each of my students.
I will Zumba and eat healthy.
I *might* even start on my Unit.
And, let's be realistic,
I will also sit on the couch and read the Hunger Games.
But still. Please?
If it snows tomorrow, I will write a blog post.
I will also work more on my Exit Portfolio, spend more time on my lesson plans, and do the assignments for my online class BEFORE the last minute.
I will pray for each of my students.
I will Zumba and eat healthy.
I *might* even start on my Unit.
And, let's be realistic,
I will also sit on the couch and read the Hunger Games.
But still. Please?
Saturday, January 7, 2012
1 Year
It's amazing what can happen within the span of a year.
I remember where and how I started 2011. I was in Russellville, surrounded by friends. I was also hurt, confused, bitter, and emotionally exhausted. I've been trying to type a sentence describing the feeling of heartbreak, but I keep deleting it, because I'm not sure it can be described in words. I wanted nothing more than to escape my life and my self. Being isolated in small-town Arkansas for a month only made things worse. I didn't even want to talk to anyone from school, because talking to them meant talking about the issues. I hated being back home, but I also dreaded going back to Tech. That Winter Break was miserable. That Christmas was miserable. Even that New Years was miserable, because my mind was everywhere but the fireworks.
One year later, I almost started 2012 alone, and I was pretty indifferent about it. Instead, I found myself in downtown Little Rock with my best guy friend from high school and a guy four years older than me whom I had seen about three times in the past five years. After champagne and Auld Lange Syne, followed by an hour-long heart-to-heart in my friend's car, I got home around 3 am, with just enough time to sqeeze in about 4 hours of sleep before hopping on a bus to Atlanta, Georgia. I, along with 43,000 other college-age people, was attending the Passion conference, which was too awesome to describe here. Exhausted as I was, I plugged my ears with several hours worth of Peter Bradley Adams and simply thought about how happy I was, and how thankful I was to be happy.
This break, my last-ever college winter break, has been wonderful. It started with the wedding of my dear friend, Gabi, who I worked with at camp. Being one of 10 bridesmaids was a blast, as was seeing two generations of camp counselors come together for one big family reunion. Then came the Christmases, celebrated with family that I love oh so much. It ended with a Cotton Bowl party, with the most random guests I could have ever mixed together (including another camp friend who I had not seen for 3 years who happened to be driving through my tiny town), but it was so great! For the first time in four years, I feel like my break flew by; I am actually slightly sad to be leaving England and returning to Russellville.
Now let's go back to that heart-to-heart I mentioned eariler (so much for transitions, huh?). I was talking with my friend, who recently had his heart broken by a relationship, one of the many ways my own heart was broken over a year ago. All I could think about was how that was me last year. How in a year's time, I had made a complete 180. How somehow in that time I had found healing, freedom. How the credit and glory was all to Christ, who is constantly making us new. How is has come "to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound...to give them a beautiful headress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit (Isaiah 61:1-4)." And as I continued to speak truth about what God had done in my life and in my heart since last year, I realized, holy crap, this is the gospel.
Wholeness from shattered pieces.
Beauty from ashes.
Restoration from pain.
Hope from depravity.
LIFE from DEATH.
He's always making us new, if we let Him. I look back on the past year, and now I see that in times I swore God was standing still, He was actually busy at work. Because He's always moving, even when we can't see it.
2011 was not my favorite year, but I am thankful for who I have become because of it. I am also beginning to see how this year was necessary for me. 2011 not only healed me, but grew me. If Torn hearts have to be sewed back together if they are ever expected to work again; the process is painful, but when it's done, the heart can beat again and love again. In the past several months, God has done so much work in my heart and in my spirit, and while worn, both of them are stronger than before. (Ok, I've got to move on. This is beginning to sound like a combination of bad poetry and country music. But it's true.)
2012 is the year I graduate. It's the year I'm supposed to have my future figured out. I'm not so sure about that last part, but I am certain about this: 2012 is the year that I jump at the sun. If I miss, at least I'll be off the ground.
Happy new year!
I remember where and how I started 2011. I was in Russellville, surrounded by friends. I was also hurt, confused, bitter, and emotionally exhausted. I've been trying to type a sentence describing the feeling of heartbreak, but I keep deleting it, because I'm not sure it can be described in words. I wanted nothing more than to escape my life and my self. Being isolated in small-town Arkansas for a month only made things worse. I didn't even want to talk to anyone from school, because talking to them meant talking about the issues. I hated being back home, but I also dreaded going back to Tech. That Winter Break was miserable. That Christmas was miserable. Even that New Years was miserable, because my mind was everywhere but the fireworks.
One year later, I almost started 2012 alone, and I was pretty indifferent about it. Instead, I found myself in downtown Little Rock with my best guy friend from high school and a guy four years older than me whom I had seen about three times in the past five years. After champagne and Auld Lange Syne, followed by an hour-long heart-to-heart in my friend's car, I got home around 3 am, with just enough time to sqeeze in about 4 hours of sleep before hopping on a bus to Atlanta, Georgia. I, along with 43,000 other college-age people, was attending the Passion conference, which was too awesome to describe here. Exhausted as I was, I plugged my ears with several hours worth of Peter Bradley Adams and simply thought about how happy I was, and how thankful I was to be happy.
This break, my last-ever college winter break, has been wonderful. It started with the wedding of my dear friend, Gabi, who I worked with at camp. Being one of 10 bridesmaids was a blast, as was seeing two generations of camp counselors come together for one big family reunion. Then came the Christmases, celebrated with family that I love oh so much. It ended with a Cotton Bowl party, with the most random guests I could have ever mixed together (including another camp friend who I had not seen for 3 years who happened to be driving through my tiny town), but it was so great! For the first time in four years, I feel like my break flew by; I am actually slightly sad to be leaving England and returning to Russellville.
Now let's go back to that heart-to-heart I mentioned eariler (so much for transitions, huh?). I was talking with my friend, who recently had his heart broken by a relationship, one of the many ways my own heart was broken over a year ago. All I could think about was how that was me last year. How in a year's time, I had made a complete 180. How somehow in that time I had found healing, freedom. How the credit and glory was all to Christ, who is constantly making us new. How is has come "to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound...to give them a beautiful headress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit (Isaiah 61:1-4)." And as I continued to speak truth about what God had done in my life and in my heart since last year, I realized, holy crap, this is the gospel.
Wholeness from shattered pieces.
Beauty from ashes.
Restoration from pain.
Hope from depravity.
LIFE from DEATH.
He's always making us new, if we let Him. I look back on the past year, and now I see that in times I swore God was standing still, He was actually busy at work. Because He's always moving, even when we can't see it.
2011 was not my favorite year, but I am thankful for who I have become because of it. I am also beginning to see how this year was necessary for me. 2011 not only healed me, but grew me. If Torn hearts have to be sewed back together if they are ever expected to work again; the process is painful, but when it's done, the heart can beat again and love again. In the past several months, God has done so much work in my heart and in my spirit, and while worn, both of them are stronger than before. (Ok, I've got to move on. This is beginning to sound like a combination of bad poetry and country music. But it's true.)
2012 is the year I graduate. It's the year I'm supposed to have my future figured out. I'm not so sure about that last part, but I am certain about this: 2012 is the year that I jump at the sun. If I miss, at least I'll be off the ground.
Happy new year!
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