Law and Order on the Frozen Tundra

Today during recess I was freezing my be-hind off. It made me contemplate just why in the world I became a teacher. A teacher in Michigan. A teacher in Michigan where it's already in the 20's with a colder windchill.

I further contemplated the whole thing when I had to walk across the frozen tundra that is the soccer field to give my "It's Getting Rough Out Here" speech for the 10th time this school year.

I was ready to turn my keys in when I had to walk back to my spot through the whipping wind and pelting snow. (Okay, maybe I just put that last part in for effect.)

Anyway, about five minutes after my speech, I noticed a kid go down on the field and the rest of the kids gather around him. I gave it the usual few minutes necessary for the half-hurt to get up. After a few minutes of no movement, I made my way back over to the tundra.

Like clockwork, the string of people greeting me before I got to the field occurred just as it does every time. A murder trial couldn't be orchestrated better than this:

The first person always makes his way nearly all of the way back to where I stand on the blacktop. He always gives me the overview of the situation as he sees it, peppering his story with his opinions of who is at fault.

The second person then comes trotting over to hear a bit of the first person's story, and add her own opinion as she viewed the situation from her vantage point.

And finally, the third person doesn't listen to the first two. Rather, he just tells me who is at fault and what the consequences should be.

As I examine the patient lying on the field, I hear bits of each of the three informants' stories. They are trying to get their point across and win the case.

Who needs Law and Order when I have this to experience first hand? On a tundra, no less.

Little Girl in the Big Chair

You know the skit done by Lily Tomlin on Laugh-In where she plays Edith Ann, the little girl in the big chair? I have to admit, I feel like her sometimes.

Mickey and I joke that in certain intimidating situations, we feel like Edith Ann. For example, the stigma associated with principals leads both Mickey and I to straighten up a bit before going to the office. Yes, we realize that now the principal is our boss, but nevertheless, we still feel intimidated.

I never really had this feeling in my previous jobs, aside for my first job straight out of college when I was so fresh to the world of sales and marketing. I absorbed things like a sponge, kept my mouth shut, and just observed the world around me. It wasn't until I was really confident of my knowledge that I even dared to speak up in a meeting. And that was only when someone asked me a question.

I am the rookie on my hallway at school. All of the other teachers have each been teaching over 15 years, and most of them are old enough to have grown children as old as me. Some of them have taken me under their wing, and most of them check in with me the way a grandparent asks about you. As a result, I have thought about myself as the junior in their eyes.

I don't feel like I have to prove myself to them, and I'm not really intimidated by them. Rather, I look to them for their wisdom and experience. Yet when they come to me for advice on students or ways to teach something, I feel like I have landed in the big chair, feet dangling, my voice an octave (or three) higher. I have joked with some of them on occasion about how I have pulled the wool over their eyes. I think to myself, They're looking to the little girl for her expertise? Do they know that I'm just a five-year-old girl with a good act?

I think that as I get my feet wetter in this profession and become more of a "senior" teacher this feeling will eventually fade. But for right now, Edith Ann lives. Right in the big chair.

A Time of Thanks, a Time of Reflection

Stein and I just got back from Chicago last night. We had a wonderful time there, catching up with family and friends. It's funny how easily I fall back into the swing of things when I go back to Chicago. We slept in late, had leisure breakfasts at local restaurants we love, met friends for drinks and food at places that have changed faces and names since I grew up there, and relished the fact that the town clears out and leaves ample parking spaces and unoccupied cabs for us to snag.

My brother had Thanksgiving at his house, which I know I have written about before. He and his family live in the house we grew up in, so it's always fun to go back there. Although he has remodeled a lot of it, and it doesn't look exactly the same, it feels like home to me. I sometimes have to remind myself while I'm there that I am not just going upstairs to bed. We ate, played a game, and talked.

I always like Thanksgiving because it's a time to get together, but it's free of all the gift-giving pressures that Christmas holds. Will she like what I bought her? Does he need another book in the same genre? Have I experienced the Christmas spirit yet? Thanksgiving is just a time to gather, give thanks, and eat. A lot.

On the morning of Thanksgiving, I received two pieces of news that really made me thankful for what I have, for what I was going to experience later that day. I was on Facebook, and saw that the mother of a friend of mine died unexpectantly and suddenly on Tuesday night. I know my friend was busy before that preparing Thanksgiving for her family including her mom. In a matter of minutes, her week was turned around. I thought of her all day on Thursday and continue to keep her in my thoughts as we move through this holiday into the next.

While I was on Facebook, I also found out that a friend of mine whom I used to work with died at the beginning of October. I knew by the pictures of her wearing hats and wigs that she had cancer (for the second time in her life) and was battling it for a while.

I worked with Gayle at the University of Michigan, where she and I sat side by side in an academic department, answering phones and dealing with students and faculty members on the front line. In between our daily duties, we swapped stories about ourselves and became friends. Gayle was such a classy lady who hailed from the south. She worked as an accountant for many years, and tried to retire (at a young age) at one point. But she was bored and missed the daily interaction with people. How lucky was I that I landed in the same office she did, if only for nine short months.

In those nine months, Gayle taught me a lot. She worked hard, but also worked hard to find a balance between work, play and family. I learned not to sweat the small stuff, to laugh often, and find the silly whenever you can. My days were peppered with stories from her days growing up as the child of a military dad, stories about her three daughters and doting husband, and stories about her chihuahua Isabelle, who had a personality all her own.

I kept in touch with Gayle since the time we worked together, but in the last 2 years I only saw her once. When we reconnected with her on Facebook, I sent a message to her about getting together. I never heard from her, and assume that she had a lot going on in her world.

I am sad that the world lost such a vibrant, life-loving person. But I am counting my lucky stars that I got to spend everyday for nine months with her. I am also thankful for the other people in my life, many of whom I was lucky to be able to see this weekend.

I Want to Wake Up in a City That Doesn't Sleep

Stein called me a couple weeks ago on my way into work. He seemed frazzled as we had the following conversation:

Stein: Can you take off a half day in the afternoon on your birthday?

Me: I think so, I just need to figure out the logistics.

Stein: Well, could you find out and call me back?

Me: Sure. When I get into school. When do you need to know?

Stein: This morning.

I called him later that morning and told him that it would be no problem. I tried to pry a little, but figured I should leave well enough alone. I love good surprises, and part of the fun was finding myself daydreaming about possible scenarios for the next couple weeks. A trip to Chicago? A massage and lunch? A trip to Lansing to see Mary Poppins? A trip up north? A dinner with friends?

Tuesday when I got home from school, there was a birthday card on the coffee table. Inside was a plane ticket to New York.

Stein is sending me to New York to spend the weekend with Chris.

The idea for this trip started when Chris sold her condo and felt free of the financial obligations that two mortgages held. She wanted to do a girls' weekend, and no one was really biting at the suggestion to go to New York. I said I would go, but selfishly forgot about it in the midst of my school drama. Apparently she and Stein were in cahoots the whole time, planning this weekend. Bless them both.

Oh, and need I mention? Reason #6,354 why I married that man. He spoils me.

The last time I was in New York was when Chris ran the marathon there. We did have some days surrounding the marathon to hang out, but nothing like we'll have this weekend. I can't wait to just walk around, catch up, eat good food, talk, and people watch.

These little town blues.... are melting away...

Time Here and Away

Last weekend Stein went to Chicago with some friends and I got to have a girls' weekend with Mickey and Bre. We kind of got away from our traditional girls' weekends, so it was so nice to get back to it. They got in on Friday and left on Sunday. In between those two days we packed in some shopping, eating, drinking, game playing, a trip to the cider mill, and a whole lot of talking.

I have been having some pretty stressful weeks at school lately. It has nothing to do with the kids, but rather the "other" stuff that goes along with teaching. There's some politics, some eggshell walking, some tricky scheduling, and lot of switching gears every few minutes. When I get home from school, I don't want to do anything but stare at the TV, shove some food into my mouth, and go to bed.

Having Mickey and Bre here turned my attitude around. They sat through a vent of mine right when I got home on Friday, and there were so many times throughout the weekend when they offered an ear or advice on whatever it was that I was talking about. We didn't do too much but hang out. I needed to do that. I needed to let go of whatever it was that I was thinking of doing, and needed to unwind. I didn't realize just how tight I was wound.

This past Friday, Stein picked me up from school, and we were soon on the road going north. We spent the weekend in Harbor Springs. We didn't have anything planned other than wanting to go to one of our favorite restaurants. Again, the timing was perfect. The stress continued this past week, and the weekend provided me with another reprieve.

We got in on Friday night, and had a beer and burger at a casual local restaurant. We made our way through the winding dark road to where we were staying and schlepped our stuff inside. Stein made a fire in the fireplace and I settled onto the couch. I don't think I was on the couch more than 10 minutes when I fell asleep. I trudged upstairs and fell into bed, barely moving until the next morning. When I looked at the clock, I realized I slept for 10 hours. I guess I needed the sleep.

Stein and I walked into town along the water to get some breakfast. It was a great walk on an overcast day, looking at houses boarded up for the season, and bushes and trees wrapped up in preparation for the elements of the harsh winter. We needed to look at nature. We needed to hear the water lap up on the shore. We needed to hear water slip down a stream.

After breakfast, we took turns napping, eating, and reading for the rest of the afternoon. I did make it out at one point to buy some snacks for us to eat before going to dinner. We made our way into Petoskey for a late dinner and were back assuming our positions in the living room a short time later.

This morning we stopped at one of our favorite places for breakfast in Charlevoix, where we indulged in pumpkin bread french toast. I'm still full almost 5 hours later. We then meandered our way back home, traveling back south on the winding roads that carried us north just 2 days before.

These two weekends have been just what the doctor ordered. Taking time out, slowing down, and savoring the still and the relationships that keep us sane.

On the Other Side

Three years ago, I sat in conference rooms at the student center at EMU and listened to people give advice about various student teaching topics. I was most interested in learning about what I needed to get a job, what I should be prepared for during an interview, and what I should do in these crazy economic times.

Three years later, I was sitting in a conference room again. This time, though, I was the one giving advice. The experience was surreal, and the audience had people that seemed so inexperienced. I was the same way, three years ago, thinking I had it all together with the months I had been in the classroom student teaching. Oh, what a sheltered thought and life that was.

It felt so good to be there, as part of a panel of three, sharing our experiences since student teaching, and offering advice for finding a job and then sharing some first-year teaching nuggets of wisdom. The three of us have had similar experiences with all kinds of jobs from long-term sub jobs, to after school programs, and summer school.

Some of the people in the audience had the deer-in-the-headlights look the whole time. I would love to know what they were thinking. I would think it was similar to what I was thinking at various points in the past three years. How much longer can I work for people and not get a job? How much longer can I spin my wheels? Why did I make this career change in the midst of the worst economic times? Am I destined to be a long-term sub forever? And the questions could go on and on.

I think (and hope) that the main message this audience got was that you have to be persistent, you have to make connections and network, and you have to work hard. Jobs aren't going to come knocking on your door. You're going to have to bang down doors yourself.

Even a month and a half into school, I still have to pinch myself sometimes that I'm a full-time, real live teacher. I am so thankful to be here, and it was so satisfying to tell my story.

Quick Dinner

A couple nights ago, I went to make dinner and was ready for the old standby of pasta with sausage. After scanning the kitchen for something different to put in the pasta, I saw some sad looking tomatoes that we picked last week but never used. I also thought about the tomatoes still clinging to the vines outside that will eventually need to be used. (We started our plants a bit too late. We have a ton of flowers still on our plants that I'm afraid will get frostbite before too long).

I thought some sort of pasta salad with roasted tomatoes would be good. I looked up this recipe from Ina Garten and boiled some water for the pasta while the tomatoes roasted. When the pasta was done, I drained it and doused it with some olive oil, crushed red pepper and basil. When the roasted tomatoes were ready, I added them to the pasta with some goat cheese. Oh mama, it tasted great together. It would be great on its own, but it made a great accompaniment to the sausage we had.

I love when a plan comes together, spontaneously.