When Things Go Sour, Smile.

There's something that I've noticed. And I'm not sure what starts it. But there's something that happens to teachers. Eventually, they struggle with becoming bitter.

I've seen different educators struggle with this, during my observational years in my undergrad, as well as my experience as a student. You knew which teachers were just unhappy with their jobs, partially because of the frown they constantly wore on their faces, and also because of their reputation as "screamers." You know the type, they're the teachers who are constantly reaming out one of the students in their classrooms for such-and-such, and much like a tea kettle, they start out with a low rumble and escalate into a ear-piercing scream. And yet whenever I look into those classrooms, it's usually not the kid who is at the root of the cause, but rather something bigger.

Now, if you imagined the old crotchety type to be the only ones screeching at the kids and struggling with bitterness, you might be mistaken. I've seen enough of us younger teachers struggle with the exact same thing. Yes, kids will be kids, and they will make stupid mistakes, and they probably need someone in their lives telling them that their behavior doesn't always cut it, but when that seems to be the only thing you have time to deal with, and math and language arts lessons don't goes as plan due to some bad choice makers, it's easy to become discouraged and disheartened. When you have this, coupled with little support from fellow teachers and administrators, I understand how tempting it is to let your heart go sour.

So how do you prevent this from happening? Or how do you deal with it if it has already begun? I don't have any clear answers yet, but I know it starts with examining your own heart, and getting to the root of the root of the problems. It may be stemming from school, or it may be from something at home. In either case, I know that wrestling to find out the cause is important. From there, it becomes a choice. A choice to let these things fester and burrow a bitter hole in your heart, or a choice to accept what is, change what can be changed, and move on with a smile. Because in the end, it doesn't matter what so and so said or thought, it doesn't matter if the kid drove you bananas, what matters is the way in which you carried yourself through that time. What matters is if you are happy with who you allowed yourself to become in the end.

Christmas, Cookies, and Kids.

The season of Christmas is upon us. My kiddoes have been as busy as ever getting ready for the various celebrations and performances they will have as the 25th of December creeps closer and closer. Pinatas for the infamous pinata party are being constructed in the science lab. Kids singing in classrooms songs for the Christmas program have teachers ready to pull their hair out from all of the repetition. And yet, I find that I am more excited for Christmas with each passing day.

My hope is to bake some Christmas cookies before the holiday has passed us, and give them away to my kiddoes and colleagues. There's something about baking a gift that makes it extra special, especially if the baked goods are good! The time and care that was taken into gathering and measuring the ingredients, combining them in a certain way, and then forming them into something delectable infuse these precious gifts with love and an extraordinary warm goodness.

Thankfully, this is the kind of gift I can afford to give to large numbers of people. With 23 students, a slew of fellow c0-workers, and neighbors, cookies make the best presents. I want to give my kids something special this year, something made by me for them. In so many ways they have warmed my heart this holiday season, and I want to return the favor.

And so I'll bake. Sugar, chocolate chip, thumbprint, and even a cutout or two with a generous coat of icing. For me it's a fun process, of licking sugar off my fingers and feeling all warm inside and out. But most importantly, it's great to give my hard work away to someone else who will appreciate them for what they're worth.

Socializing: My Own Personal Struggles.

Tonight I performed one of my "good teacher" acts. Namely I went to a Christmas program put on by the Westview Music program to watch some of my former students play musical instruments and sing in the choir. The program went well, and reminded me and my roommate of our own Jr. High productions in the not so distance past.

It was great to see my students from last year, and say hello to the families of these kiddoes. It made me feel good, and it made me sad. I felt good because I know that I love being around groups of people, where I know many of those present, I could go and talk, and be my chipper chatty-Kathy-self! It reminded me of when I was at Grace. There was hardly a time where I did not know at least someone gathered in the former ABJ, now TOL. It was hard to find a place to meet with people one on one without someone walking up and saying hello. And I have to admit, I loved that.

Now, I just don't have those kind of experiences as often. I'm trying to figure out if it's just the natural progression of life, that growing up means leaving that sense of "popularity" behind, or if it's due to the fact that I live a life that does not allow for much social interaction. If it's due to growing up, then I suppose I can make myself move on... but if it's not, does that mean I need to change the life I live? Should I be in a place where I often feel insignificant? Incompetent? And alone? I'm just not sure.

And that's why I'm just not sure what the next step is in my professional and personal life. As I feel as if I am missing out on a more fulfilling life, and am struggling to have a life as it is, my ability to be a "good teacher" is suffering. My professional life has become my personal life. I have nothing outside of work save a few phone calls to friends scattered throughout the country and a once every other month coffee date (which is due to the fact that I have no time to go and visit my friends who live an hour or so away every weekend) with a friend or two.

Who would have thought that the former homeschooler would be having issues with NOT having ENOUGH social interaction! And yet there it is. I want this to be home, for the sake of having a place to call my own, like Grace was for four years. I want this to be home to finally let myself take root, as that is what I so desperately want. I want this home to be filled with friends from now and from the past. And yet what I want, is so rarely what anyone gets.