Well there's one thing the world doesn't need

Teacher Burn Out, well then just call me toast.

I truly have been battling with going back to work. I was even going to write about how teacher burn out is real, but then my fears just took over and I thought that was not a great idea to blog about. It just serves as how people perceive teachers as lazy bums over the summer. However, writing is meant to be real. The moment you stop being real, is when you might as well give up any idea as being authentic. This is honestly the very first summer I would rather hide in a dark closet than even think of the start of school. I have tried sorting out my feelings with friends, my fiancée, anybody who would listen. Was it the baby? Is it the EVER evolving NEW laws and changes being taken in education? Is it the fear of failure?  Whatever IT is, I was just feeling "meh" about the whole start over for 2014.

I've come to the idea it could be a combination of ALL of those things that have left me feeling exhausted. I am just exhausted. Have you ever run a marathon and at the end you did not receive any water? I mean forget the trophy, forget the post marathon pictures. All you want is some water and to relax. If I could paint the picture I could say that not only did I not get my water or relaxation but I have to run another marathon in three weeks and I don't know the course, how long, or the distance I must go.  I will say there is a bit of exhaustion coupled with fear of the unknown.

However, today as I was laying in bed enjoying the last few minutes of silence before the kids woke up. I was posting about how I am usually the goofy goon teacher who sets up her class terribly early, and has so much zest and zeal that it makes people just look at me as if I had 10 heads. Last year, I was 9 months pregnant setting up a room I wouldn't even be in for 3 weeks. I was there with my enlisted help (fiancée and friend) and I was walking along the furniture 35 weeks pregnant and standing on chairs so that my room could be perfect.  Indeed I had lost my mind in my Back to School/Work stuff.  So here I was in bed imagining me walking into work the first day with my coffee and sunglasses on so people could not see me lamenting my summer gone too soon. #Summertimesadness right? 

That was until I came across multiple posts of Robin Williams, and subsequent posts regarding people being outwardly mean. One even saying something along the lines of  "If he didn't care about his life, why should they?"  I almost fell out of bed. There are humans who think like this? This is a joke right? Where is the compassion, empathy, love for your fellow man? I personally know so many people who have taken their own life, and it broke my heart on so many levels. We as humans can not think like this.  It brought me back to one thing I read from another teacher my first year teaching. He had a sign that said "You cannot expect me to expect more from you than you expect from yourself."  At that time, I didn't make much of a thought to it. It was not until later that year that I received letters of thanks from my students. I will never ever forget this one letter that I kept a copy of and it was a testimony of how much life and energy I brought into the classroom. This young woman said that not only was my class her favorite, but she hated the subject. She went on to tell how I cared so much about the topic and the kids, that I did so much more than what THEY expected of themselves that it MADE her turn around, and actually want to be involved, engaged, and learning. I was flattered, I thought I was just doing my job. No, doing my job would be to just teach the curriculum. However, I taught the curriculum, I sought outside sources for funding for books, I sought programs, I taught Saturday school, I had pizza parties, I connected with them in my own stories and life, I told them how to do sock buns, I told them where I got my love of English Literature from, and you know what I did from all of that? I made a difference. You see, I did not just teach them the curriculum. I taught them how to be a GOOD human being. I taught them what it is like to care more for someone than they do themselves. See, all of that in a few short months. When that female student left my class, she was a "C" student.  When she entered she was a previous years FAILURE. Yes, she was taking that class two years in a row. See, the fact is when I read that comment about not caring for someone who didn't care enough about themselves. I whole heartedly disagree, because I am in the business of caring about kids and people who care nothing about themselves, their future, or maybe they haven't realized their potential.

You see I am an educator. My job just doesn't start and end at the curriculum and the data from the benchmarks. It isn't about the science of how to get kids to pass tests. That sounds terrible, but I care more about if my students end up being murderers than if they can score a 100% on a benchmark. I do want them to be intelligent, and able to navigate the world successfully. I want them to construct their own knowledge though through their academic experiences in my class.  I chose this job because I wanted to share my love of literature with everyone, but it more so ended up to be sharing my love for humanity. In literature we glimpse into so many worlds, characters, ideas, and emotions. I want to show kids how valuable it is to comprehend and be able to articulate them, but when you are around kids everyday what do you think they need equally?  Yes, character education! I might argue that within the institution, proper character education separates the achievers from the non achievers.  So here it is:

 I am here to give you character education, I am here to make you say sorry, I am here to make you say please, I am here to make you say excuse me, I am here to make you listen to your fellow classmates, I am here to reinforce respect for all,  I am here to teach you empathy, I am here to make you understand diversity, I am here to make you understand that people all over the world are all different and they are all worthy of love, I am here to build a community of learners, I am here to make you realize that education is not about what others think and memorizing facts but learning to use your brain and ultimately think for yourself, I am here to help you even if you won't help yourself, I am here to help you succeed, I am here to watch you fail,  I am here to make you try again, and again until you get it right, I am here to display commitment, I am here to showcase tenacity, I am here to be a human you can trust,  I am here to be patient when you lash out, I am here to work tirelessly so you won't limit your potential,  I will wake your passion alive, I will drown you in hope, and I will make you at the very least realize that beyond these four walls of my class lies a world full of people waiting to be mean, hurt, or minimize someone else. Don't join in the crowd and be that person.  The world doesn't need more people like that, the world needs more people like what I am trying to teach here.

The world needs more people who are kind, loving, giving, compassionate, who can help someone realize their potential even if the person has yet to realize it. 

Bottom line: The world needs more people who aren't willing to give up!

That my friends... that's exactly what I am NOT doing. I am not giving up, I have work to do. I can not let an entire group of humans grow up and pass through middle school without having someone to teach them a little more than curriculum. So with that said... I was instantly motivated aka cured from my burn out. I will be sad in September when I go back to work and miss my own kids. As well as all the books I didn't get to finish reading, I don't think I will ever finish reading my list! However I know that this life I live is full of purpose. I am not in the business of just making money, I'm making an impact on the world in small ways. When I look back on the letters, cards, posters, tweets from students to me it serves as a way to know that kids never forget how you made them *feel*.

Let's face it the world is a sick, sad, cruel place. So my classroom "motto" for this year is social media inspired theme.... #Ihaveworktodo . My class décor will be from twitter, FB, and Pinterest like ideas, posters, etc. True "pinned" ideas on bulletin boards. Facebook inspired "What's on your mind?" journal entries to be hung up around the library much like "wall paper".      I can not let more humans go out into the world uneducated, but moreover simply grow up thinking it is okay to disregard and not care for their fellow man, despite the circumstances.

I'll be back in that classroom  with a googly grin with all my Pinterest inspired classroom décor  making sure it is "relevant" and just right for the 60+ kids I will have for the 2014-2015 school year. I'm enough of a realist to know that I won't win every child over, but I am enough of an optimist to try.

I'm still "old" so in the words of Diddy "Let's Work".   I'm ready, Let's Go!
#BacktoSchool2014    

10 years ago today...........

I was sitting in a hospital bed. At that point, I was filled with more confusion than clarity and more disbelief than reality. I had doctors coming in and out talking to me, nurses, friends, family and everything sounded like a dull drowned out noise.  The pieces to recount this moment in time are similar to putting together a jig saw puzzle. However, what isn't fuzzy or disconnected are the emotions. After all this time the emotions still feel the same. They are just as strong, as that one tragic day. What is stronger though is me.

I went to a routine doctor appointment 26 weeks pregnant and I was laughing and chatting it up in the waiting room with one of my friends before I was called back. The doctor came in and did the usual. Weight, urine, measure your belly, and lastly fetal heart rate check. After fumbling around for over 10 minutes, she replied " I can't pick up any heart tones." "I will be right back let me get an ultrasound machine." It probably took her maybe 3 minutes, but it felt more like 30 minutes. She set up the machine and placed the probe down screen away from me. The doctor moved the probe to 5 different spots, and finally looked up at me with the saddest face I had ever laid my own eyes on. She slowly turned the screen around and said, "I'm sorry, your baby has no heartbeat." No heartbeat? What? I kept staring at the screen, looking perplexed.
There was a perfect profile of a baby on the ultrasound screen. My thoughts were going a mile a minute.  I was thinking did I not feel him move? I swore I did. Didn't I just eat ice cream? Wasn't he just moving? He is due in less than 2 months, what do you mean no heartbeat?  I slowly got up off the table and called my mom and Chris.  I was told to go home, rest, and come to the hospital in the morning for an induction. I drove home in a somewhat disillusioned state. The only thing I kept thinking was that this was all wrong.  I was packing and getting ready for tomorrow at the hospital. I was still walking around very pregnant and in my head; I kept saying he's alive, I will deliver him and he will be alive.  Medical Miracles happen all the time right? This was a case of a misdiagnosis.

The night went by fast, and next thing I knew I was being admitted to labor and delivery. The doctor told me about the induction and how he would give me Pitocin and Cervidil. I was surrounded by family. My friends Melissa and Lauren, whom to this day are so strong for sticking by my side in that hospital room. They helped me use the bathroom, took pictures, and talked to me even when I don't know what I could talk about. Chris was there the entire time, but very quiet and reserved. My Mom was there, and my sister visited me that evening. I really was in pain once the contractions started and I was in and out of it for the entire night. They finally gave me pain meds that made me hallucinate and my friends tell me I kept saying that Celebrities were in the room.

Suddenly, I awoke and then the next thing I knew I sat up straight as a board. I began to scream for a nurse, who came in and called the doctor. They kept telling me not to push yet. I was so unsure of what was happening. I was thinking, is this it? Will he come out finally?  In a huge burst of pressure before the doctor could even get prepare, my water broke and I delivered this tiny baby at 6:37am. I was speechless. I was shocked and amazed. I honestly can only remember bits and pieces of this point.  I laid back in relief that he was here,  but suddenly I heard screams out in the hallway, horror screams. These screams were from Chris (My Ex). 

I just laid there, empty. I wasn't crying though. I don't remember crying at the hospital at all. I mean I may have silently, but I don't recall. If anything I felt just like any other mother who delivered a baby did physically, emotionally, and mentally. The nurse cleaned him up, and dressed him, she handed him to me and I held him. I held his hand. I touched his head full of jet black straight hair. I even wiped his nose (fluid was still dripping from the water bag he was in). I smelled him, and would you believe I will never ever forget that smell. I put his Outfit in a Ziplock bag and smelled his outfit for days, months, and years after just because it smelled like him.  I spent time with him. We named him Christopher Gabriel because originally when we found out he was a boy we had already named him Christopher (after his father). I didn't want to just change it because he was born, but not alive. That felt wrong. For the last 2 months we had known him to be Christopher, and that is who he would always be to me. My most cherished memory are the pictures I took of the emotional journey. I am so glad the nurses encouraged and treated this just like a regular birth. I love those pictures, no matter how tragic. That was my first born, my first delivery, my first son, my first baby. I love those pictures, how fond that memory is to me.

 I don't know how long Christopher stayed in the room with us, but I do remember someone coming to ask if we were ready for him to be taken out. I don't remember my goodbye. (I think I subconsciously did that to cope).  I do remember handing him over to be placed in the baby warmer, and just as if they were going to wheel him to the nursery someone came in and took him.

It's been 10 years, and I have never been this public about it though many (if not all) of my close friends know about Baby Chris.  Why is that? I guess nobody really knows how to talk about tragedy. They don't know what to say, and I don't want to make people feel strange or worried. I remember when I was more open about it, many women would look at me like shut up, don't tell me! Almost as if because I told them, they would catch the "dead baby" disease and their baby would die too. Like I had been cursed and talking to them about it would somehow rope them in. You know what though, I realized that the more open you are. The more you see everybody has their struggles, tragedies, and battles. Why not talk, listen, open up and just BE THERE. You might help heal someone.

I sit here reflecting on what really is the 10th Birthday of my very first son.  I think what would you act like, would you be close to Caleb, would you guys have been inseparable, would you be tall, funny, full of personality, quiet, shy? I won't ever know, but I do wonder.

It's been 10 hard, emotional, life changing years. So much has changed!  It has also been 10 amazing, miraculous, strong years.  The newborn photo of Christopher still hangs on my fridge. Every place I have ever had that picture is on the front of the fridge.   Maybe that is strange to some, but the other photos on my fridge are of the rest of my kids, I don't see him as any different.

I share this story today because after 10 years, instead of agonizing pain and hurt.  I am fond of that fateful day. The day I first became a mother. A mother to a baby I birthed but could not stay. I am fond of that day the way you remember the first time you look into your child's eyes.  It will forever be the day I became a mother. I never thought I would feel that way.  I am proud of that day. I am proud of how strong I was. I am proud of how weak I was too. Without that experience I wouldn't be me.    Everything about me is okay. Tragedy and all.

Happy Birthday My Sweet Angel. 8.7.04 ^i^