Dear Tyler

Dear Tyler, love of my life, my Stinky John, my little man, my favorite...
First of all, let me say thank you for letting me use you as a great punchline these last two years when people ask me if there are any new men in my life. "Well, there is one...he's just great. He has these adorably soft brown eyes, a great smile, the softest hair...he's such a good listener and he laughs at all my jokes. He thinks my cooking is excellent, and he's content to just sit and cuddle and be."
Second of all...I am NOT ready to stop being your nanny.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
Taking care of you was my first full-time job. Technically, I did work full-time at the Conference Grounds, but that was only summers. You were my first 8 hours a day, 5 days a week job. And let me tell you, this was the best full-time job I've had so far! Fantastic bosses, no annoying co-workers to deal with, challenging enough to not get bored, but not so challenging that I got stressed out and stopped enjoying the job. There was not a single day where I dreaded coming to work. Do you know how rare that is? They say that if you enjoy your job 4 days out of 5, you're in the right job and very lucky. I am beyond lucky, young sir.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
In all that time, you never once peed on me. You did poop on me once, though. You were crazy sick, so I'll give you a pass on that one. You never outright puked on me, either. Plenty of spit-up that first year, but I won't count that. Spit-up is pretty easy to clean up and doesn't have that horribly pungent smell that vomit seems to have.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
The first time you said "Nanny," I just about died. I melted inside. I suppose it was a small glimpse of how parents feel when their baby says "mama" or "dada" for the first time. Going into your room in the morning and seeing you smiling up at me (or, when you were younger, seeing you in your bouncy seat start bouncing and giggling when you saw me come in) was often exactly the boost I needed. You see, I have something called depression and it's hard for me to get out of bed in the morning. Knowing I had you to look forward and that you would always be excited to see me helped a lot with my depression.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
Did you know that before I started as your nanny, I could count on one hand the number of times I'd changed a diaper? Now I am a diapering master. I could diaper anything. I could probably diaper a wet cat. I don't think I'd like to try though, because I'm allergic to cats and I feel like interacting with a wet cat would just flare that up. But I bet I could diaper a wet cat, if it came right down to it.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
Right now, your mom is 8 months pregnant with a baby that she and your dad have nicknamed "Gummy" because they are waiting to find out the gender until the baby is born. Right now, you're really bad at the "guh" sound and every time I ask you the baby's name, you say "Dummy." And I laugh every single time. Ditto the word 'banana,' which you currently pronounce 'badada.' Odd, since you're perfectly capable of saying 'nanny'...
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
#thanksbutnotthanks for making me watch every episode of Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood. You love that show right now. You ask for it every time we enter a room with a TV. Even if we're in someone else's house. There were a few times this year where I brought you to my neighbor Allison's house so that I could go to internship interviews, and you would run right into the house, start pushing buttons on the their TV, and saying "Dan-yo, Dan-yo" over and over. You had similar feelings for Thomas the Tank Engine, which you affectionately referred to as "Tommy." So while I could go my whole life without ever watching either of those television shows again, it was a delight to watch you watch them. You just get so excited...
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
The summer that you were a year old, you guys moved to a duplex in Grand Rapids after selling your Jenison house. This was before you moved to your house in Wyoming. That house was like a playground for you because it had a pretty open floor plan. Unlike the Jenison house, where we could put up a baby gate and keep you in the living room, you had access in the duplex to the living room, dining room, kitchen, bedrooms, and bathroom. We quickly learned to shut the doors. I didn't see you much that summer, because your mom has summers off, but it was a joy to see you get so excited about walking and running around a new house.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
I forgive you for all the times you sent nonsense texts to my friends. And for the time that you took advantage of my love of cuddling to steal my phone. See, I thought I had finally outsmarted you by keeping my phone in my pocket where you couldn't reach it. Then, one day, you climbed up onto my lap and wrapped your arms around me and I thought, yes, finally, this kid is gonna calm down for a bit and come and cuddle with me! This wonderful cuddle-bliss lasted about ten seconds. All of the sudden, you hopped off my lap with my phone in your hand and started texting away. Oh, the betrayal. But I forgive you and I commend your craftiness.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
I've never met another 2-year-old (or indeed, a child of any age) who loves coffee as much as you do. It boggles my mind.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
Speaking of coffee, I didn't start drinking coffee until this year, when you stopped taking a morning nap. Good thing your parents have a Keurig.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
Starting around the time you turned 2, you started realizing the comedic opportunity of farting. You would come over to me, sometimes climbing up onto my lap, let a big one rip, and then go back to playing with your toys. The funniest times were when you stop what you were doing, bend your knees just a little bit, and then fart. Hilarious. Also very stinky.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
Your favorite book right now is a Thomas the Tank Engine book. It is literally the only book that you will sit still and listen to. I don't remember the title, despite reading it to you elevendy-billion times. Every page ended with the sentence "'Peep, peep!' said Thomas." I would turn it around and prompt you with "Thomas said..." and then let you say the peep peep part. I suspect that's why you wanted me to read it to you so many times a day.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
You fall down a lot, despite having learned to walk a year ago. I think the sunken living room is to blame. Sometimes when you're really excited and running from place to place, you forget that there's a step down into the living room. You biff it into the living room at least 3 times a week. I hope you get the hang of this after I leave. Good luck.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
There are five pictures hanging above the fireplace in the living room. Four of you as a little baby, and a bigger one of you and your parents. Usually, when I ask you who's in the picture you say "mama. dada. tie-yo (you're not great at L's and R's yet)." Then, one day, instead of saying mama and dada, you said "wobbie" and "thoo-thee." I just about died. Hadn't laughed that hard in a long time.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
Back when you would eat baby food, I would try to craft elaborate mustaches on your face whenever we had prunes. You didn't particularly enjoy this, but one day you really got into it and I took a bunch of pictures of you and made it into a No-Shave November PSA. You can see it here. Click on the first picture and cycle through them to get the full effect.
Love, Nanny

--

Dear Tyler,
You didn't often get hurt, but when you did, I could usually make it better by kissing whatever body part you held out toward me. Next year, I'll have middle-schoolers whose problems are much bigger and more complex than a hurt finger and can't be fixed by kissing the boo-boo. I pray that the kiss-the-boo-boo method works for you as long as possible.
Love, Nanny

--

Dearest Tyler,

I'm really going to miss being your nanny. Like, so much that it hurts to think about. You were the best job I have ever had. You taught me what it means to be a mom (an 8-hour-a-day weekends-and-holidays-off paid mom, anyway). Taking care of you never felt like just a job. That's the best kind of job to have, as far as I can tell. It will feel so weird and difficult to know that I won't be coming back to be your nanny in September. I'll definitely still visit you, probably at least once a week, so long as it's okay with your mom.

Don't forget about me, okay?

All my love always, Nanny

How I Spent My Summer Vacation: A Love Letter to the Conference Grounds

Until Sunday, August 17, my summer was unremarkable. And that was at best. At worst, it was horribly frustrating. I took three classes this summer, and while they weren't difficult, they were a lot of work. Not to mention, spending 4 nights a week in class was less than enjoyable. My job was nothing to write home about, either. I had the summer off from my school year nannying jobbecause the mom is a teacher, so I had to pick up a summer job. I knew I would miss my little boy, but it was only three months and then I could go back to nannying him when school started again. I won't go into details, but I ended up quitting the summer job that Sunday night because I was frustrated and wasn't making the money I was promised. Let's just say that there were unmet expectations on both sides.

Now, under different circumstances, I would have just accepted the 2 weeks off and enjoyed some free time. However, I worked only 5 weeks out of the whole summer when I was told I would work 10. Half the weeks meant half the income. A quick look at my bank account online told me that I was $800 short of tuition, which was due on the first day of the semester. If I didn't make that money, I wouldn't be able to go to school in two weeks. The people I worked for couldn't guarantee me that I would work during those last two weeks (they pretty much said they would let me know the day of) and that wasn't going to work for me. I needed to make money, and I had to be sure that my hours wouldn't be canceled on me at the last minute.

So I quit.

Then I panicked just a little bit.

How was I going to make $800 in two weeks if I had just quit my job?

Then, a flash of brilliance (or perhaps divine intervention): THE CONFERENCE GROUNDS. The last two weeks out there are always understaffed because the high schoolers and college staff go back to their regularly scheduled sports, orientations, jobs, classes, and activities. Where else could I get a job on short notice with no application, no interview, no training period, and no hassle? I didn't even have to fill out any of the usual paperwork because they still had it on file from two years ago! So on Sunday night at about 9pm, I made a few calls, sent a few texts, secured two weeks of guaranteed work, and moved out to the Grounds the very next day.

It was as if I had never left. I slipped back seamlessly into the ice cream store and teaching Bible school. I received a hero's welcome when I arrived because I was able to pick up so many random shifts vacated by the people who had already left. It was actually kind of embarrassing - the way I saw it, they were helping me out more than I was helping them by giving me a job so that I could pay my tuition.

Being around people I liked and who liked me turned my entire summer around. At my other job, I never felt like they liked me or trusted me, and those are important things for me to have in my job. Going back to a place that felt like home, where I felt safe and accepted, was exactly what I needed after a summer of school stress and getting the run-around at work. It felt great to be trusted again - trusted to know what I was doing, trusted to do a good job, trusted to take care of the kids. It's hard for me to put into words just how much this all meant to me.

Now, when people ask me how my summer was, I feel like I can truthfully say that it was good instead of disappointing. My self-confidence suffered quite a hit after I quit my original summer job, especially because I knew my employers didn't care that I was frustrated to the point of quitting. They told me they had hired someone else the week before. I'm 95% sure that they would have just strung me along until the end of the summer instead of telling me they were dissatisfied with the job I was doing. That's never a good feeling. But after my two weeks at the Grounds, I felt like my heart was put back together. The people there are genuinely interested in how you are and what you have coming up in your life. I don't have to pretend there. They accept me as I am. They make me smile. They make me laugh. They care.
They are my people.

What Valentine's Day Used to Be About

I promise, this will not be a post about how it sucks to be single on Valentine's Day.

I actually hadn't given much thought to Valentine's Day this year, probably because I live in a place that is not wallpapered with advertisements for events and celebrations of V-Day. Add to that the fact that I'm no longer surrounded by couples my age, and I almost forgot about it completely.

Do you remember what Valentine's Day used to be all about? When we were kids, it was all about candy, little paper cards with movie and cartoon characters on them, and parties at school. I brought some homemade cupcakes next door to my neighbors and the twins were sifting through all of the candy they got from their preschool V-Day party today. I had forgotten about this aspect of Valentine's. For kids, it's second to Halloween in terms of candy haul. Those twins were in sugar rush mode and loving every minute of it. Lilly asked me if I had gotten any candy at school today. I told her that I don't go to school right now and therefore didn't get any candy. She looked up at me with her big green eyes and said, "Anjerah (Andrea), that is so sad. I am sad for you because you don't have any candy. Do you want my necklace?" For these two, V-Day meant lots of candy and hugs and smooches from the people they love. They have no idea what "single" means and why it can be so crippling at times. I had forgotten about this simplicity of mind in the flurry of mushy Facebook statuses about boyfriends, girlfriends, spouses, and "true love" (whatever that is).

Speaking of Facebook statuses, I saw a lot of statuses about letting Jesus be your Valentine. I had mixed feelings about these. While I understand and appreciate the sentiment, it seems hollow to me. Yes, Jesus is the only person we should ever need to fulfill us, but at the same time, we were created to be relational beings; to know someone else so fully and deeply that they become a part of us. It is a very physical longing that we experience. I'll be the first to admit that it is very, very hard to feel that an invisible and intangible Jesus is filling a hole that a flesh-and-blood human being is supposed to fill. And I think that's okay. Even Jesus experienced painful human loneliness in spite of his divinity. Regardless of what this day was meant to be back in the time of Saint Valentine, we live in a culture now that places value on having someone special to be your valentine. Living counter to that culture can be both rewarding and lonely.

One person in particular has been on my mind today: my third-grade teacher. If you read back a few months, you will remember that her husband died very unexpectedly. For the first time in more than two decades, she is without her valentine. As hard as it can be to be single sometimes, it is, without a doubt, utterly crippling to miss a person you had at your side for so long. She is very close to my heart tonight, as is anyone whose valentine has been ripped away from them, no matter how long ago it happened.

I'll leave you all with a moment of levity: as I was baking those cupcakes this morning, I was listening to the radio. 105.3 HOT-FM was my station of choice, and normally I think they do a pretty good job. However, this morning they were playing a pre-recorded happy message every so often. I think their intentions were good, but hearing "From all of us at 105.3 to you, have a happy VD" made me wonder who was in charge of that little campaign.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.

A Bedtime Story for Ella and Maggie

Even though it says Ella and Maggie, this story is for you too. No one is too old for a bedtime story.

[This story is based on a children's book called The Invisible String by Patrice Karst, adapted and personalized for two very special and beautiful little girls who just lost their father.]

Dear Ella and Maggie,
Back when you were born, God connected you to all of your loved ones with invisible strings. At first it was just your parents, grandparents, and other family members. As you grew up, every time you made a new friend, God connected you both with an invisible string. You're connected to your family, your friends, your teachers, and all the people in your life that love you.

These invisible strings are magical. They can stretch as far as you need them to. They can stretch across the house, to where your mom and your sister are, or they can stretch all the way across the world. The invisible strings never wear out and they never break, so they'll connect you to your loved ones forever.

The best thing about these invisible strings is that they can even stretch all the way to Heaven. That means that even though Daddy died and went to Heaven, he's still connected to you through the invisible string. He'll always be hanging onto his end of the string, so make sure you don't let go of your end.

It's going to be really hard for awhile. Some days, you might feel like your heart hurts so much and you don't know how to make it stop. You might feel really happy one minute and then something will remind you of Dad and that will make you really sad. That's okay. That's normal. In fact, it's really good that certain things remind you of Dad and certain memories come into your mind. You know what that is? That's Daddy pulling on his end of the string. Every time something makes you think of Daddy, that's him pulling on the string all the way from Heaven to let you know that he's thinking of you, that he remembers you, and that he loves you.

Whenever that happens, you should pull on your end of the string too. It will travel all the way up to Heaven and Dad will feel the pull on his heart and know that you're thinking of him and remembering him. God knew it would be really hard for you to lose your dad. It will be really hard to not be able to talk to him, to not be able to see him, to not be able to hug him and kiss him, to not be able to spend time with him. God knew how hard that would be, so that's why he connected you two with the invisible string. Even though you can't see him anymore, you'll still be able to feel him tugging on your heart, letting you know that he loves you.

So even though it's going to be hard for awhile, I know you can do this. I know you can make it through. You'll be able to see Daddy again someday, but until that time, I want you to remember this: Daddy will be with you every day, connected to you by the invisible string. I love you girls, all three of you, and I'll keep you on my heart and pray for you as long as you need me to.

To All the Single People Out There [for Rachel]

My dear friend Rachel, a fellow single woman, sent me the link to this video today. She must have been tipped off by Someone how much I needed it.
It blew my mind. I watched it three times in a row.
If you, like me, are waiting very impatiently for your future husband or wife, I urge you to listen to this spoken word piece.
If you're waiting for someone who will hold you, hug you, kiss you, take care of you, touch you, support you, miss you, pray for you, value you, respect you, and love you, don't settle. Don't settle. DON'T settle.

DON'T SETTLE. You hear me? Waiting is hard, I know that. But you'll never forgive yourself if you settle for someone who doesn't treat you the way you should be treated. That will hurt so much more than you hurt now, seeing your friends get married and find the fulfillment that you are so desperately searching for.

People can go on and on about how all you need is Jesus, He'll fill the void in your heart, He's the perfect man for you, etc. I believe all that. But I also believe that He's not going to simply fill that void with Himself. That's why I ache the way I do. I was designed to have a companion. Some day, we'll meet each other.

In the meantime...I guess I'm learning patience. Ha. Better than that, though, is this dear friend Rachel. Perhaps the funniest thing to me is that Rachel and I have known each other since middle school, when we started 7th grade at the same school. We weren't good friends, necessarily, but we were certainly friendly. A.P. Calculus definitely bonded us tighter than the strongest duct tape ever could. Other than that, we were always on the periphery of each other's social sphere.

Then we graduated from high school, and even graduated from the same college! Here's a picture of us.

As my impeccable timing would have it, we became close friends about two weeks before she moved to Indiana for grad school. I miss her a lot. We are fellow comrades in singleness. She got me started at Madison Square Church, where I've been attending the last few weeks.

I'm really proud of her, for moving, for starting over, for following her dream of becoming an eye doctor. So very proud. She's a lot braver than I am.

I'm so thankful for you, Rachel. You (and really, your entire family) have been an enormous blessing to me this year. I love you a lot.

I hope you all have someone in your life like Rachel.

A Refreshed Heart

Today was rough. I'll just state it simply and bluntly. ROUGH.

For some reason, I was unreasonably stressed about school today. It was like it was the first day of the semester all over again. I had prepared this great lesson as part of my culture unit for today and I had mapped out the last two weeks of my full-time teaching lessons. Unfortunately, I had to run these plans by my CT for her approval, and this was stressing me out big-time. 

There's just something about student teaching that has broken down my confidence in myself when it comes to teaching. I can't really point to any one event in particular. Just a bunch of little every day occurrences that make me feel like I'm not good enough to do this.

Over Spring Break I had wayyyy too much time on my hands for idle thinking and over-thinking. I actually seriously considered giving up on teaching altogether after this semester and heading straight into a Masters' program after I finish my undergrad next winter. And I still haven't ruled that out. I have days where I think, "What on EARTH am I doing? Am I even any good at this?"

Unfortunately, I still don't have an answer to those questions. But give it time. 

The theme of devotions at class tonight was Philemon 1:7, which is one of my FAVORITE verses:
"Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother (or sister!), have refreshed the hearts of the Lord’s people." The people in my class refresh my heart every week. We had such a good prayer sesh after devotions, sharing and crying and praying for each other and carrying each other's burdens. That refreshes my heart. 

Here's another thing that refreshes my heart: Being able to call someone at midnight when I can't sleep and having that someone understand without me even having to explain. It was a particularly horrible night and I still didn't end up sleeping very much. But this friend refreshed my heart with her love and encouragement.

In fact, a lot of you refresh my heart every day with your love, encouragement, and prayers. I thank God for all of you. He uses you to get me through my days and nights.

I hope that my writing can be a source of refreshment for your hearts as well. Sometimes I write just to get my thoughts and frustrations out, but other times I write because I know I can't be the only one with the thoughts and questions that I have. I pray that everyone who comes across this blog sees a testament to God's faithfulness and the work He accomplishes through His people. I also pray that I have been a source of encouragement for you, even if I have never met you. 

Until we meet, either again or for the first time, God bless you. 

A DeVries/Campo/Barnhill/Fisher/Guinazzo Christmas

Not much to report. Just your typical, wild, loud, rowdy family Christmas party. 

Oh, and the first legit snow of the new year. My lovely cousin Kari took a few photos of me frolicking in my new pink coat. :) If you want to see larger versions, just click on one of the photos, and a slideshow will appear where you click on the little thumbnail photos across the bottom. 

Happy New Year. :)

Valió la Pena, Parte IV: An Indictment of All the People Who Ever Told You That You Couldn't Do Something

Wow, it's been quite awhile since I made a post to this blog. In that time, I have...
- had a birthday. woo hoo 22!
- made several new friends in this apartment and in classes.
- gotten hooked on several new television shows instead of doing homework
- started taking Cymbalta. I like to think of each pill as a stone in my sling against my giant.
- begun a education class "lab" at Burton Middle School.

So let's talk some more about this "lab." We are supposed to work with the students in the after-school program for 2 hours and create activities that promote literacy. The 30 students in the two EDUC 307 classes are spread out over the five days of the school week between Burton MS and Martin Luther King School. So far, at the end of a week and a half in our schools, the results range from "phenomenal success" to "Is that a plane I see crashing and burning on the ground?"

My partner Liz and I have found ourselves closer to the "phenomenal success" side of the spectrum. The first week was a bit chaotic because we didn't really know what was expected of us in terms of activities, perceived authority, and the fact that we were split up in different classes. Liz actually managed to get some stuff done with her students, but my students were pretty set on playing Guesstures for most of the class time. Nevertheless, I was able to learn a few of their names, hear about what they like to do, and get wild and crazy with the charades.

This week, things went MUCH more smoothly. Liz and I planned activities that would be engaging and interesting for the 6th graders that I worked with last week with the understanding that we would both stay in the 6th grade class. After two hours of word searches, math homework, Red Light Green Light, a game where each student had to ask questions and guess the name of the animal that was written on a card taped to his or her back, a dramatic/hysterical reading and acting out of The Frog Prince, and a game of Princess (formerly known as Hangman) where the princess neither dies nor gets injured, we decided that the afternoon was a success as far as literacy goes.

Miss Pat, the coordinator for the 6th graders, told us that she was very impressed with the organization, effort, and enthusiasm that the Calvin students have been bringing to the after-school program. For those that aren't familiar with Grand Rapids (or at least, its education system), Burton MS is what would be considered an inner-city school. Furthermore, the ethnic makeup of each class is predominantly African-American and Hispanic, which is a reflection of the population of that area of the city. There is not a single Caucasian student in our 6th grade after-school class. Families of Burton MS are on the lower end of the financial spectrum, and many are living below the poverty level.

An interesting factor that I hadn't given much thought to when we had "orientation" for our lab was the fact that the Burton MS area has a high Spanish-speaking population. And I'm a Spanish MAJOR! I didn't even consider what that would mean or how that would be manifested in a classroom. This week, when Liz and I were introducing ourselves, I mentioned that I was going to college to become a Spanish teacher. One of the other coordinators asked if I spoke Spanish, and I replied with

“Sí, hablo español. Viví en España el semestre pasado por cuatro meses y medio con una familia española, así que fue una experiencia de inmersión. Aprendí la mayoría de mi español allí, especialmente la conversación. Si ustedes creen que pueden hablar en español para evitar que los maestros no les entiendan y se confundan, no olviden que yo también hablo español.” (Yes, I speak Spanish. I lived in Spain last semester for 4 and a half months with a Spanish family, so it was kind of an immersion experience. I learned the majority of my Spanish there, especially conversation. If you guys think that you can speak in Spanish so that your teachers can't understand you and get confused, don't forget that I speak Spanish too.)

After that, there was sort of a power shift. I have a feeling that with some of the teachers, the students have a slice of power when it comes to language. They can speak a language that their teachers and other students don't understand, which means that they have a small piece of control in a situation where they typically wouldn't have control. Now that they know that I speak Spanish, I'm hoping that they will be discouraged from misbehaving. I already got a chance to test out this theory when one of the boys turned to his neighbor and told him he thought that our activity was dumb. I asked him, in Spanish, why he thought the activity was dumb, and he backed down from accusation. 

I'm also hoping that my Spanish can become a bridge to the students that we otherwise may not have been able to reach. While the students were working on a word search, I sat down with a few of the girls and started talking to them in Spanish. I asked if they'd be interested in doing bilingual activities if we could work in teams of English and Spanish speakers. Even though Burton MS is a bilingual school (signs and information are dispensed in both languages), the curriculum is not necessarily taught in both languages. They said they'd LOVE that because they don't get a chance to speak Spanish at school in class. One of the girls told me that she's not very good at language arts in English, which makes me wonder if language arts in Spanish would better showcase her strengths. I have to work toward promoting literacy in the Spanish content area anyway, so I think this would be a great way to do that. Our overall goal is to show the students that they each have a subject are that they are skilled in, and we just have to find that subject.

Sadly, most of our students are not expected to go to college, and even in 6th grade, they're aware of that fact. I was working with one of the boys on his math homework and I had to confess to him that I didn't know how to answer one of the questions. He said, "Come on, don't you have math class in college?" And I replied by saying that I hadn't taken any math since high school because I didn't need to take math in college for my program. He was astounded. He said he didn't like math, and I said, "well hopefully when you get to college, you won't have to take math either. You can choose a major that doesn't have ANYTHING to do with math!" and he just looked at me.
--"When I get to college?"
"Yeah, after high school."
--"What do you mean? I don't think I'm going to college."
"Well, why not?"
--"Because it's too expensive."
"Well, lots of colleges offer scholarships, which is free money that you can get based on your grades from high school, or for practicing a certain skill, or even for having a Hispanic background, like you!"
--"I still don't think I can go. I'll have to work and make money, like my parents. They work a lot. That's why I have to be here instead of at home after school."
"Did you know that lots of college offer jobs to students that are right nearby? You can take classes and work like 10 hours a week too. That's what I do. You can also take loans out, where you pay the money back later after you graduate and get a job. Got any more reasons to not go to college?"
--". . . . . . . . . . . I'm not smart enough. No one from my family has ever gone to college."
"Who told you you weren't smart enough?"
--"My dad."
"Josue, do you WANT to go to college? If there was nothing stopping you, would you go?"
--"Well, yeah. I don't want to be a car mechanic."
"Then there's nothing stopping you. You are smart. You can get scholarships. You can get a part-time job. You can get help with school when you need it. You can do anything you decide you want to do. You know why? Because I believe in you."
--"Really?"
"Really. Now let's ask Jesse if he understands this math problem and maybe he can help us."

Even if these kids forget that Liz and I came and played games with them and acted like animals and made general fools of ourselves, I hope that they will remember that two people believed in them and told them that they could do anything.

To me, that is what teaching is all about.

Something to Warm My Heart

I teach 3rd and 4th grade Bible School out here at the Conference Grounds and generally, I'm not the teacher that the kids remember. Or, if I am the one they remember and point out to their parents, it's the kids that aren't my students. In fact, most of the 4 and 5 year olds get me mixed up with their actual teacher, Samantha, because we look a lot alike, especially to them. But as far as the 3rd and 4th graders go, it's usually James that they remember because he is so crazy and charismatic and somehow gets the "too cool for school" boys to behave.

That's okay by me. I'm used to it. But today, I got a nice little surprise! Corie, one of my 3rd graders, came into the store about 17 times. This is not unusual for Corie, who is at the Grounds all the time. Her grandparents work here, her mom is the main gal for Special Needs Week, and they love any excuse to come out to the beach and get ice cream. The final time that she came in, she handed me a note. I opened the note, and this is what it said:

It warmed my heart right up! Not only because it was so cute, but because it cut to that piece of my heart that twinges whenever my kids forget my name and that I'm their teacher. I know that there are kids who know who I am and remember my name and think I'm great, but I always seem to remember the ones that don't. That's how it always is, isn't it? We remember only the sad, and never the good. Anyway, I had to come around the corner and give Corie a big hug, and I told her that she made my whole day. I wished her a good school year, and she promised to tell me who her teacher is as soon as she finds out. :)

After a week of unruly misbehaving boys, my little Corie turned it allllllll around.