pretend smoke breaks

I am not an advocate of smoking, I do not condone smoking, and I haven't smoked. Ever. It is an expensive, smelly, dangerous habit. But...

It's interesting to me that smoke breaks are accepted - expected - by those who smoke and by those who employ or live with the smokers. A few minutes to step away from the work or the family or the next chore to be done. A few minutes outside either alone or with someone who shares at least one common interest. Completely acceptable. What about a Diet Coke break? Could my bestie and I get away with that? Or a peanut butter M&M's break? Probably not.

And smokers seem so relaxed after their break. It's just the break. Nicotine is a stimulant. Being outside in the sun, having a stretch, breathing deeply and slowly - with intent - , taking a brain break - those are the things I want.

I'm not going to start smoking, but I do plan on starting to give myself pretend smoke breaks. Maybe have that Diet Coke and some of those yummy M&M's. Go outside. Move. Use the time that smokers use with no questions or penalty. They don't sign out or have to otherwise make excuses for their use of that time. The same courtesy should be extended to those of us who don't smoke.

In fact, I'm going to take my first pretend smoke break right now.

accepting others

There is an amazing video on the Huffington Post website (link will be provided at the end of this post) that beautifully demonstrates unconditional love and acceptance of people are they are, not as we would like them to be. It is so hard to let go of the control - or the thought of control - of making someone fit our expectations and schedule and preferences. The greater challenge is to see someone as they are but to love them in their fullness, remembering that we are all beautiful and wonderful and generally screwed up. It's helpful to pretend that you are a disaster relief chaplain, and you are meeting each of the people you encounter in a day at the worst and most vulnerable and terrible moment of their lives. Through that lens you can offer true companionability in a way that is most meaningful to them. And you can be thankful that others are doing the same for you. We're called to care for each other, and that means as we each are, with all of our innate beauty and somewhat embarrassing warts.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/05/30/whittington-family-ryland-transgender-son_n_5414718.html?utm_hp_ref=mostpopular

Vidalia Robotics

          

Tomorrow marks the end of 4 of 6 camps for Vidalia Robotics at VHS (with 1 more camp later at STC), and the year is off to a good start. This program has grown from an idea Mr. Ikner had some years ago, and even he's surprised and impressed by how far they've come. With all materials being secured through private contributions, fund raisers, and the fees for summer camps, the robotics lab is a facility that even local politicians, philanthropists, and college professors are coming to visit. But the real story is what this program is doing for the students. They have fun, sure, but they are learning critical thinking and problem solving skills that will be essential to their future careers in engineering or other math / science-based fields. Their wide exposure and participation in both competitive and co-operative events makes them goal-oriented, while still embracing Legos' trademark idea of gracious professionalism. Every year is a new struggle, with new technological and personnel challenges, but they are driven to succeed and to represent Vidalia Robotics - and themselves - well in a wide circuit.

summer and next year

And the summer is zipping by! Although school has been out a week (for students; teachers had to work the first three days of this week), I'm still going to school to help my department chair finish her orders. I've finished my first MOOC (Education in a Changing World), I'm working on my second class, I've started several new books, and I have big plans for my home furniture arrangement and what my classroom will be like next year. Growing and changing is sometimes stressful, but I'm looking for better ways to impact students. For one, I'm going to try to cut down the "teacher shrine" area - the huge footprint in the room that is used only by the teacher. I do need a place for my things and also an area to spread out and work, but, upon reflection, I do take up a lot of room. Additional lighting is a must, as are plants and motivational signs. I submitted a huge poster order (and posters aren't cheap!) - we'll see how far it gets. My wooden bookcase may just get a fresh coat of paint, and there are going to be many holes in the walls: hanging clipboards to showcase exemplary student work, hanging buckets to sort desk supplies like pens and pencils, and a pretty towel rod for hanging my chart paper pad. And this money is coming form where?, you ask. Good question. I need a summer job to support my teaching habit.

Update: changes in my room

a gift for the world

Arbor Day is designated as the last Friday in April. (How did  I totally miss it this year?) I like to plant trees as a memorial to those people I love who have died. I even said I wanted a tree planted for me when a student { +Chambria Harrison } asked what I wanted for Christmas. Treecycler.com gives you the opportunity to sponsor the planting of trees in your choice of locations all around the world. Those people I love have trees planted for them doing good things for people in places they - nor I - have or will (likely) ever visit. Our rewards are best when they are quiet. Each person's legacy lives on, in part, as a tree that will live on beyond our remembering.

sarcasm

A Google search for "What does sarcasm mean?" will give you the following results:

the use of irony to mock or convey contempt.

"his voice, hardened by sarcasm, could not hide his resentment"

synonyms:

derision, mockery, ridicule, scorn, sneering, scoffing;

People say that I am sarcastic. I'm not. Ok, well, maybe a little bit, but nearly as much as people tend to think. I'm honest. There's a difference. If I were sarcastic I'd say what people wanted me to say and they'd hear the lie in it. That would be mocking. Instead, I say what I think and I try to do it in a way that is neutral and not particularly harmful.

Generally. 

change

In my "Education in a Changing World" class through Open Universities Australia, Dr. Ross Boyd discusses society, culture, and education. In one of his lectures he discusses complexity sciences, which show a clear interactive relationship between all members of an area and also that a series of small steps or changes can lead to a huge transition. It's the idea of the straw that broke the camel's back. It wasn't just that one straw, but each of the others that came before as well. The same is true for climate change or ecosystem destruction - usually it's a compilation that causes the shift.

The idea of small steps and changes leading to large-scale change should be our focus for doing good. Someone said (maybe it was Victor Hugo? I'm not sure.) that all it takes for evil to flourish is for good people to do nothing. With all the negativity and anxiety surrounding us it's so easy to feel overwhelmed and vanquished. Each of us doesn't have to try to do everything - it's just that we all need to do something. An article proclaiming the benefits of the helpful life said that the most selfish thing you can do is to make the world a better place for your child. I don't think the means matter here - just the end. There is plenty of hunger, illiteracy, homelessness, isolation, mental illness, and disease for all of us to work on. It's not what you're doing that matters so much - it's that you're doing something. If we all decided to do one thing for someone else, or if we decided to leave one place better than when we got there, we could be the change. I want to do something so that evil doesn't flourish. I want my children to have a better world than the one I inherited.

birth day

This weekend we will be going to a baby shower for my brother's new baby boy and I've been trying to explain the idea of a shower to my middle child, whom we will refer to by his Borg designation - 2 of 3. 2 of 3 keeps calling it a birthday party and he tells everyone we see that we're going to this party. People at Wal-Mart, daycare, the pharmacy drive-up window, anywhere. At dinner he was doing fist pumps about the birthday party. I got to thinking about what he was saying, and he's right - we are going to a birth day party. We're celebrating and there'll be food and presents and family members who are really more like strangers and awkward conversations and silences. There will also be love and laughter and support and memories and stories shared and a new family member welcomed to the mix. Party fist pump.

if animals could write...

worries like cheerios

I was watching my 10 month old eat breakfast / scatter breakfast / terrorize his cheerios this morning. He was chanting "YaYaYa" over and over very loudly as he beat his sweet, sticky arm on the highchair tray at the same time. We were both watching the cheerios bounce away with his pounding, and when they got just out of reach, that's when he decided he wanted them back. I'd play finger-and-cheerio shuffleboard and get them back to the center. He'd start the show all over again.

I feel that way about worries. I like having something for my mind to play with. It's like a particularly destructive puppy with a bone - that dog is going to do his best to rip it to pieces and then scatter the pieces and bury them and then dig them back up. My mind needs something to roll around and worry over. At least one thing. I think I like the feeling of helping God work things out for me.I visualize every possibility and with all conceivable outcomes. Too bad I tend to make more of my worry than it really is.

not singing but reading

This evening when I was working to get the family settled for the night, the most random song started zipping around in my head. It's the "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing" song from Coke. I remember it from way back years ago when the commercial would come on around Christmas time and in the commercial there was this group of girls - probably college students - standing together outside in the cold, holding candles, looking happy and righteous, and singing this song. Oh how I wanted to be those girls. To have friends and songs and candles and ideals worth braving the cold for.

But I don't want to teach the world to sing. Even though I love karaoke, I just can't sing. In fact, my singing is so bad that I threaten my boys with it. "If you don't (insert thing here) right now, I'll sing (insert song name here) until you get up and do it." Sadly, this always merits an immediate response, usually with a shocked and fearful look from the one in danger of mom's singing. And the other one is hollering for him to hurry up so I don't have a chance to get started.

Instead, I'd like to teach the world to read. I can imagine a literate and educated world population better able to make wise decisions, to elect honest and responsible civic leaders, to teach their children to think and anticipate, and to better determine their own positive outcomes in life, where no one is a "kept" citizen in the captivity of ignorance and illiteracy.

Empowering women empowers their communities. A rising tide lifts all boats. If we can get women up to ride the wave of literacy, their families will haul in loads of benefits.

*Please follow my class blog at http://mrshikner.edublogs.org and on Twitter @HHmikner.


Edited blog post for my 272 emulation -

I have been thinking about the most random song -it's the "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing" song from Coke. I remember it from way back years ago when the commercial would come on around Christmas time and in the commercial there was this group of girls - probably college students - standing together outside in the cold, holding candles, looking happy and righteous, and singing this song. Oh how I wanted to be those girls. To have friends and songs and candles and ideals worth braving the cold for.

But I don't want to teach the world to sing.

Instead, I'd like to teach the world to read. 775 million adults worldwide and 30 million Americans are considered functionally illiterate – reading below a 5^th grade level. I can imagine a future literate, educated, and free world population better able to make wise decisions, to elect honest and responsible civic leaders, to teach their children to think and anticipate, and to better determine their own positive outcomes in life - to be the masters of their own destinies - where no one is a "kept" citizen, stuck in the lonely and bleak captivity of ignorance and illiteracy.

Empowering women empowers their families and communities. A rising tide lifts all boats. If we can get women up to ride the wave of literacy, to demand an education for themselves and for their children, then their families, and later, the world, will haul in loads of benefits. Lower unemployment. Less child labor and human trafficking. Longer life expectancy. Greater opportunities and financial possibilities.

Together we can untap full human potential through literacy.

*Literacy information taken from www.literacypartners.org.

naps

I love the weekend for the same reason I love the summer. I love naps. Naps are the ultimate in rebelliousness and (as Anne Lamott) says, radical self-care. It says, yes, there are clothes to be laundered and dishes to be washed, but I'm actively choosing not to do those things. It says, this time napping with my son(s) is good for me and for our relationship and I'll subordinate other things for this time.I probably could have done one load of dishes and taken care of a basket of clothes in the time I napped, but then there would still be dishes and clothes to be done, and so the nap is so much more important. Stepping out of time and responsibility is so luxurious and satisfying. It's holy time to listen to your quiet inner self and to open that rough clam-shell heart to tenderness and care, letting it feed again on the nutrients of cuddly baby-breath and a fan's white noise, a shade-darkened bedroom in the middle of the day and doing something for myself when I usually do things for other people. Naps declare that doing nothing can be more important than doing something. That's a difficult concept in our totally connected society - that just as there's a choice of what to do, there's also a choice of whether to do. It's not being lazy; it's self-preservation and connecting to the divine in the day, myself, and others.

*Please visit my school blog at http://mrshikner.edublogs.org and follow me on Twitter @HHmikner.

summer

I'm a teacher and summer is on the way. It's just a few weeks from now. As excited as the kids are, and as the parents are not, we are even more so! I can't wait to get up early and watch the sunrise with a cup of coffee, all by myself, with no having to get my family mobilized like the 3rd infantry. Then, after a respectable time up - say, 30 minutes - I'd like to go back to bed for a little cat nap. But I have three young boys and while I have to harp and pester to get them going on school mornings, they are up way before light on the weekends. I'll probably get to see the sunrise while we're getting breakfast together and watching the day come on from the windows. And that's ok. They make my day.

pictures

Let me recommend to you the photographer +Heather Allmond at Ditzy Peach Photography (Statesboro, Georgia). We had our boys' Easter pictures done and they are fantastic! Ridiculously reasonable prices and so easy to work with. Look for Ditzy Peach on Facebook.

support

Support +GPB during the spring fundraising campaign. An informed and more educated community benefits everyone.

the weather

I remember the first book book that I really considered reading - one that required time and effort and thought. It was Charlotte's Web, and I was amazed and devastated by the beautiful friendships and emotions on display in the book. What a powerful book for a young child. And when I finished I was so proud and so sad, and I couldn't wait to get another book in my hands. Still today, I feel a certain anxiety when I get near the end of one book if I don't have another one ready to go. That book was my first real experience in enjoying reading and beginning to understand the power that reading has.

One of the books I used to teach in summer school and that I still try to get to in regular school is Their Eyes Were Watching God. I love the scene when Janie is floating on her back in the water and Tea Cake's voice asks from the beyond what she's doing. She says "I'm watching God" - that looking at the clouds in the blue sky on a sunny day is watching God. Whenever it rains, especially if there's a storm like the one Janie and Tea Cake went through in the Everglades, I think of that scene and the idea that - right at that moment - I am watching God. That perspective changes a scary thing into something holy - God is moving in a way that people can see.

Books have transformative power. Even when I go back to ones I've read in the past, I still see new things. This is especially true for The Road and The Things They Carried. After I read The Road for the first time I haven't been able to look at a shopping cart the same way again. And I wonder about the invisible burden our service members carry in their normal lives after they've seen combat. The veterans aren't the only ones carrying a load fraught with danger and booby traps. Their families have their own baggage to deal with too.  Elizabeth Samet tackles the question of the value of teaching literature at West Point when one's students are bound for the battle field. She contends that a literary education makes one better able to understand, process, and deal with new situations. Books can transform a person, and they can also pave a way for making it through.

It's not raining here today. It's sunny and mild. I'm looking out my window at an ill-formed yet lively green oak tree against a cloudless blue sky. But really, I'm watching God.


*Please follow my class blog at http://mrshikner.edublogs.org and on Twitter @HHmikner.

games

Games in school?  Why yes, I think I will.

http://www.ted.com/talks/jane_mcgonigal_gaming_can_make_a_better_world

*Please follow my class blog at http://mrshikner.edublogs.org and on Twitter @HHmikner.

sensible

So. I tend to spend a lot of time thinking about words. And I spend a lot of time cleaning up after other people. The first one I like. The second one, not so much. But I try to teach my kids (and my husband) to leave every place a little better than they found it. In fact, that's what the chalkboard sign in my bathroom says, and has said, for the last several weeks. I used to change the message each weekend, but when I got to that one and really started to think about the importance of that mandate and the over-reaching implications for the world, I decided it could stay a little longer. What if we all left each place we went - the bathroom and kitchen at home; the gas station with a napkin on the ground beside the trashcan; the classroom with a broken pencil on the floor; the church with an old bulletin stuck in a hymnal; the doctor's office with a plant that needs yellowing leaves picked off; the office lounge with the soda cans, plastic bottles, and waste paper that really should be in a recycling container instead of the trash can; the grocery store with a serious and detrimental grammatical error on a store-made sign posted at the entrance to each check-out line - all of these situations could be improved by a few seconds of effort. And then what if many people who are in these same places gave some of their seconds - what a huge difference we could make!

I digress.

While I was speed-cleaning the bathroom and thinking how holy I was in making this place a little better than I found it (when in reality I was leaving it MUCH better than I found it), I noticed that on the baby wipes package that the sensitive wipes, in another language, were sensible wipes. That stopped me dead in my tracks. To be sensitive is to be sensible. How profound. To be aware of the situations and conditions of others. To be concerned about what would or could happen based on our actions (or inactions).  Generally calling someone sensible is a compliment and calling someone sensitive has the sound of calling someone weak or emotional. I've enjoyed thinking of these being the same. How sensible.

*Please follow my class blog at http://mrshikner.edublogs.org. And follow me on Twitter - @HHmikner. 

the unbooked

NPR had a story last week about how Wal-Mart was going to start offering money wire transfers, like Western Union, but at a significantly reduced fee. The story said that services like this were aimed at the "unbanked" - those who don't have a regular bank. I'd never thought about the "unbanked", and I wonder if it's really such a problem.

What about some of the other "un"s we need to be concerned about? Such as the uneducated, the uninsured, the unfed, the unrepresented, the unmedicated, the untreated, or the unhoused. But especially the "unbooked" - those people, especially kids, for whom books are strangers. Research suggests that if a kid isn't reading on grade level by the third grade, they won't be able to catch up and will begin falling behind. Literacy touches all areas of their school lives: reading and taking notes in history, doing research, reading and understanding math word problems, and deciphering and learning the sciences. Being "unbooked" puts them at risk for disadvantages later in their lives - the inability to read and interpret contracts or lease agreements, to study and make informed election decisions, to understanding medical instructions and health information, and to take care of civic responsibilities.

I'm interested in reaching kids in an effort to make books accessible and to encourage a love of early reading. That would mean someone in their early lives will have to read to them and share books with them, but sometimes parents have the idea that education starts when children start school. It would also mean that less time would be spent on watching television and more time would be spent doing early academic work - like reading and drawing. "School stuff" should be happening at home. Reading should feel natural.  Learning should be the norm. If we can take care of the "unbooked" I'm confident that all those other "un"s will be consequentially solved as well.

Books

Tonight on the website brainpickings.org I came across a quote by Kurt Vonnegut: "Don't give up on books. They feel so good - their friendly heft. The sweet reluctance of their pages when you turn them with your sensitive fingertips. A large part of our brains is devoted to deciding whether what our hands are touching is good or bad for us. Any brain worth a nickel knows books are good for us."

How lovely - the idea that books are good for us, not just reading or studying books, but perhaps the mere presence and company of books is beneficial to our health and wellness (physical, mental, and emotional). I have an ebook device, and I love the convenience of it; I can have numerous books ready at any time and I can highlight and annotate, though those functions are a little clunky and almost more trouble than they're worth. But there is something so special, maybe a little holy, about a book. It's like you're holding a part of the author's soul, or brain. Books should be both devoured and savored, revered and personalized. The actual physical weight is a testament to someone's vision and work. Annotating or marking meaningful passages makes the reading more like a two-way conversation. It completes the communication cycle started by the author: they say something, we hear and process, then say something back. Often in the readying and studying the text or the author's life or other works we can find answers and responses to the things we said back to the text. And when we pick up the next thing the writer has done, the whole thing happens over again, and we gain deeper insight into something and someone we thought we knew and understood.

We have books all over our house. Nine bookcases and stacks of books on tables, under chairs, in closets, on the fireplace, around the TV in the TV cabinet, in the bathrooms, and beside beds encompass a treasure of eclectic tastes and a chart of changes over time. The what-to-expect book we got when our first child was born. The first personal property books of each of our boys. The college textbooks that cost a fortune and would have gotten just a fraction of the cost if we'd sold them back to the bookstore. Old favorites that are falling apart. Early editions. And new arrivals who are patiently waiting for summer to come so we can read them. They're a part of our home, and a function of our family. We have friends and family members who don't have a single visible bookcase or tasteful stack of books on a coffee table or end table. It's so depressing to go to their houses. There's nothing to tell about who those people are, or what they like, or what they value. I embrace the book-cluttered house we have. It feels safe. It feels like home.

loved and chosen

I have the great pleasure to be re-reading Anne Lamott's book Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith for the I-don't-know-how-manyith-time, and I love it all over again. Especially beautiful and important to me is the thing her pastor Veronica told her: God is an adoptive parent, too. It is nice to know that with all our ugliness and pettiness and snarky thoughts about people who are clearly less adaptive and cultivated as we are, we are still loved and chosen, which is what Anne tells her Sunday School kids. It's good to be wanted. Everyone wants to be picked for a team, and not just placed because there are no more choices and it's time for the game to begin. So even in my most unlovely self, I am still loved and chosen. Anne also suggests that we try to see each other in our fullness and that if someone is particularly difficult or bent on self-destruction, then - to quote an old lady from her church - we should just leave them where Jesus flang them. But even then they - and we - are still loved and chosen. Sometimes we forget, and then we need to see that love and chosen-ness in someone being present and putting down those planks of  hope across the mud for us so we can make it to the other side. That's a miracle - that there are people there when we need them. That they are showing us that yes, indeed, we are loved and chosen.

Community

Just as misery loves company, so does happiness and struggle. I'm pleased that I've got a few students to (unwillingly) go into this blog project with me. I can't wait to see what they do!

welcome

I had the awesome chance to meet my new foster nephew today. He was born on April 10 and is absolutely gorgeous. He is so perfect that he looks like a doll. His fingers and toes are long and delicate, like a baby bird's bones. My brother and sister-in-law have quickly and naturally fallen into parenthood and seen totally at ease and calm with the whole thing. Not only is the birth of a baby miraculous, but the birth of a family is also nothing short of a miracle. Two adults learn the fundamental joy and stretch of sacrifice and being tired in their bones. A baby learns a language and trust and love. But the blending of these three people - and maybe one day, a fourth and fifth - is a thing of beauty. Soon they'll look back and wonder what they did before he was in their lives. I have three young boys, and that has been the case with each one. It feels so right and sure that it doesn't seem possible that we were ever without them. Maybe they were in our hearts all along, and now they're just on the outside. So maybe that's why it feels so normal and forever. I love the warmth and love we've welcomed the birth of this family with. The baby feels loved, but his parents see a tangible expression of our love and care for them. We've welcomed a whole new adventure.

being present

I had the amazing opportunity to visit with my brother and his wife and to watch and help as they prepare to bring home their newborn foster child tomorrow. We had an emergency shopping trip, quickly packed a diaper bag, washed bottles, and they hurriedly got ready to spend the night with the baby at the hospital. He'll be coming home with them tomorrow. He is beautiful and perfect. And they will make wonderful parents.

As fun as it was to shop and visit with them, the greatest joy was just being present in their moments of happiness and excitement. My brother would go from I-can't-wait to being nauseated with anxiety, while his lovely wife would laugh and say she just couldn't wait to see him. She's a mother at heart.

I hope that this child's placement with them will be a permanent one. As happy as they are right now, at the beginning of a brand new life and adventure, they will be equally devastated if for some reason he is removed from their foster care.

I am so thankful I had the chance to laugh with those who laughed, and to lay some planks across the scary and untested waters of sudden foster parenthood.

celebration

When I'm surrounded by the stink and mud of life, it's so hard to pull myself out. Like a person trying to climb and crawl their way out of quicksand. But when we recognize the good, when we stop struggling and just be for a few minutes, when we breathe and have a drink of water and look out the window, when we are kind to ourselves, then we're taking those bits of goodness and making a path of planks on top of the mud. It supports our weight over the surface of the muck so that we don't slip in and get mired again. I am so thankful for those small pieces, which together, help us out of the mess we're in. That's something to celebrate.

saving the world

A Marine once told me that teachers were the defenders of civilization. A Marine. Who had seen combat. Said teachers - like me - were the defenders of civilization. What a powerful, empowering, and scary thought. And so every day I try to teach and expose and show and correct and lead and help and demonstrate that education is important and that these people matter and that being middle age isn't so bad after all. I've challenged my students to write 1,000 words a day, so I'm taking the challenge myself. But beyond these things, and raising three young boys and caring for a husband who has a chronic illness, doing charity work or giving to causes that do - what can people do to save the world? Is teaching enough? Someone said that all it takes for evil to flourish is for good people to do nothing. So everyone should be doing something. The world still seems to be spinning out of control - Turkey, Venezuela, and Syria are on the brink of tragedy. The missing airliner is a huge month-long mystery. I worry for my kids and what the world will be like when they're older, or how the world will even be tomorrow. It's hard not to give up. Ernest Hemingway said that the world is a fine place and worth fighting for. I just wish it looked like more people were fighting on our side.