In honor of teacher appreciation week it seems only fitting that I would express my gratitude for my former teachers, the ones who had the most impact on my life.
Mrs. Bonnano was my first grade teacher; 20 years later, I still find myself thinking of her and all that she did for me. I had major school anxiety, which stemmed mostly from the separation anxiety I felt being apart from my mother and the intimidation I felt by a child who was bullying me. It's no exaggeration to say I cried every morning I arrived at school, and often in the afternoon when I came back to school. My mother picked me up from lunch because I couldn't handle the entire day away from her (and I think I was also avoiding recess and my tormentor). Mrs. Bonnano never lost patience with me. She simply hugged me every day, let me know that I'd have a good day and that inevitably the bell would ring and I would get to go home. I became so attached to her, felt so secure in her classroom, that I never left it. Even though I was supposed to go to other classes for reading and math, I just stayed in Mrs. Bonnano's classroom. She had the lowest levels of both, so she even took the time to work with me independently at my level. I know personally how challenging it is to work with emotionally insecure students, and how daunting and time consuming differentiation (especially that for the sake of just one student) can be. A teacher now, I marvel at her dedication to her teaching and to me.
Like is true with any teacher, I learned so much more from Mrs. Bonnano than the content she taught me. I learned about compassion and care; that one can find love in the arms of people besides family; that no matter how tough your day is, you always get to go home. As the year went on I became more and more comfortable at school, entirely because of Mrs. Bonnano. I aspire, every day, to make my students feel as safe as she made me, because she's the teacher who taught me school-- when you're in the right classroom, with the right teacher-- can become a second home.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Sunday, May 6, 2012
#159: Race Spectator Signs
My favorite spectator signs from today's half marathon, which I hope to internalize for future days running:
"Puke and Rally!"
"Your feet hurt because you're kicking serious ass."
"You've trained longer than Kim Kardashian was married."
"Puke and Rally!"
"Your feet hurt because you're kicking serious ass."
"You've trained longer than Kim Kardashian was married."
#158: The Long Branch Half Marathon
When you're running your 5th half marathon, your prerace attitude is not one of a novice. I realized today-- maybe because I was with someone running her inaugural half-- how different I felt from when I ran my first half. There were no overwhelming nerves, which was great, but there also wasn't an overwhelming excitement, which was kind of lame. That pattern existed in so many facets: I didn't neurotically check that I had everything I would need for the race, but I also wasn't anticipating the day as it approached, so the event was like a flash in the pan. My pacing was spot on and I knew exactly how to tackle the 13.1 miles, but I finished and that was it: race over. I was handed a medal and then weaved through the people waiting to pose with theirs, focused on getting my post-race snacks, and then I was out of there.
This is the reality of being a long distance runner and competitor for a few years: you settle into the sport, and the wisdom of your experience begets many benefits. But the allure and excitement of being new to it fades, and that's sad.
I've been thinking about this as my day has progressed. A few half-marathons ago this would have been "race day". Today it was just "a Sunday when I ran a half in the morning." I'm thankful for the normalcy, as that says so much about how far I have come and the commitment I have maintained in my running life. But it also highlighted to me that I want to combine the best of both worlds, that I want to find away to cultivate that excitement again. I know how to do it, and it's going to take a lot of work, but when I am on the starting line of my next half marathon with butterflies, it'll have been worth it.
That being said, a half marathon still has an amazing emotional impact on me. We arrived late due to traffic and I missed the official start. I jogged across the parking lot and squeezed between two barriers, falling in behind the last corral. Taking a cue from my cousin Kathleen I put Coldplay's "Every Tear Drop is a Waterfall" as my first song, and with its opening notes I took in what was happening around me. 6,000 people were off and running-- everyone at the culmination of an amazing personal achievement. I spotted a female spectator crying, obviously overwhelmed at the knowledge someone she loved was half marathoning (or at least, that's what I like to think that's what it was about.) Complete strangers had given Katelynn and I pins for our bibs when we didn't have any; hundreds of volunteers were giving up their Sunday mornings to hand out water and yell encouragements: a testament to well-intentions and the ultimate goodness that I believe exists in most people. A half, regardless of how exciting it might be, is an awesome event to be a part of, and I am thankful that I was a part of one today.
This is the reality of being a long distance runner and competitor for a few years: you settle into the sport, and the wisdom of your experience begets many benefits. But the allure and excitement of being new to it fades, and that's sad.
I've been thinking about this as my day has progressed. A few half-marathons ago this would have been "race day". Today it was just "a Sunday when I ran a half in the morning." I'm thankful for the normalcy, as that says so much about how far I have come and the commitment I have maintained in my running life. But it also highlighted to me that I want to combine the best of both worlds, that I want to find away to cultivate that excitement again. I know how to do it, and it's going to take a lot of work, but when I am on the starting line of my next half marathon with butterflies, it'll have been worth it.
That being said, a half marathon still has an amazing emotional impact on me. We arrived late due to traffic and I missed the official start. I jogged across the parking lot and squeezed between two barriers, falling in behind the last corral. Taking a cue from my cousin Kathleen I put Coldplay's "Every Tear Drop is a Waterfall" as my first song, and with its opening notes I took in what was happening around me. 6,000 people were off and running-- everyone at the culmination of an amazing personal achievement. I spotted a female spectator crying, obviously overwhelmed at the knowledge someone she loved was half marathoning (or at least, that's what I like to think that's what it was about.) Complete strangers had given Katelynn and I pins for our bibs when we didn't have any; hundreds of volunteers were giving up their Sunday mornings to hand out water and yell encouragements: a testament to well-intentions and the ultimate goodness that I believe exists in most people. A half, regardless of how exciting it might be, is an awesome event to be a part of, and I am thankful that I was a part of one today.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Thursday, May 3, 2012
#156: Cozy Autumn Vanilla
One of my takeaways of The Happiness Project was that you should splurge on little luxuries that make you happy. Shortly after internalizing that I found myself at Bath & Body Works, which had just released their Cozy Autumn Vanilla line. I loved it, and bought every product. Normally I would've considered that excessive, but I kept hearing Gretchen Rubin's voice in my head encouraging me to do it. And honestly, it might be ridiculous, but my Cozy Autumn Vanilla products do make me happy. I haven't used them in a while, but was reminded of how wonderful it is when I found a body wash.
Yes, seriously. Today I am thankful for Cozy Autumn Vanilla body wash. That's the beauty of a thankfulness project...you see reasons to be grateful everywhere and in everything.
Yes, seriously. Today I am thankful for Cozy Autumn Vanilla body wash. That's the beauty of a thankfulness project...you see reasons to be grateful everywhere and in everything.
#155: Roma's Adoption
I recently discovered that the shelter from where I adopted my two cats has a twitter account. Scrolling through their previous tweets I came upon one from February, announcing that one of their residents, Roma, had been adopted. I was so excited to learn this because Roma is the brother of my two cats.
When we adopted Kennedy and Noel as kittens we also met Roma in the foster home where they were being raised. He had already been adopted, and would be picked up the same day we came for the girls. After we had them for a week a woman from the shelter called to check how Kennedy and Noel were doing. I gushed about how quickly I had fallen in love with them and how well adjusted they were, and she said, "I wish I could say the same for their brother." Roma had been returned within 24 hours because he "cried too much." While the shelter tried to insist it was just an adjustment issue-- the poor baby had just been taken from his sisters and mother and was living in a new place, after all-- but she decided she didn't want him. In the end Roma and his mother went to the shelter itself. Shortly after they were both adopted, together, but that adoption only lasted a year. The woman who adopted them decided she wanted to offer childcare within her home and thought she'd be limiting herself by having cats. Roma and his mother found themselves back at the shelter.
Kegan and I have stayed involved with this shelter. We volunteer there and make financial donations when we can. Each time we went we would seek them out and spend time with them. They were very attached to one another, so the shelter was making an effort to find someone who would take both of them. When we went by this past Christmas we discovered their mom had been adopted...but Roma was still there.
It was hard to see him. I felt bad he had his mother, whom he had been so close to, taken away from him. Because he looks just like Noel, it was sad to see him in a cage; I couldn't help but see my own cat with a different fate. Honestly, I considered taking him home. Kegan, surprisingly, was the one who talked me out of it. We already had two cats, and three seemed excessive. Also Kennedy and Noel get along so well, we didn't know how the dynamic would change by adding an additional cat. With a heavy heart I left the shelter, and just began praying that Roma would find a home, one that would be lasting.
I am so grateful he's been adopted, and I truly hope that this is his "furever" home, as the shelter would say. (Yes, so corny. But I couldn't help myself.) For anyone that has ever considered adopting a pet, or has the means to, please consider it. There are so many Roma's out there...so many pets who are simply looking for a family, care and love. I guarantee you, from personal experience, you'll get that back, and more, in return.
When we adopted Kennedy and Noel as kittens we also met Roma in the foster home where they were being raised. He had already been adopted, and would be picked up the same day we came for the girls. After we had them for a week a woman from the shelter called to check how Kennedy and Noel were doing. I gushed about how quickly I had fallen in love with them and how well adjusted they were, and she said, "I wish I could say the same for their brother." Roma had been returned within 24 hours because he "cried too much." While the shelter tried to insist it was just an adjustment issue-- the poor baby had just been taken from his sisters and mother and was living in a new place, after all-- but she decided she didn't want him. In the end Roma and his mother went to the shelter itself. Shortly after they were both adopted, together, but that adoption only lasted a year. The woman who adopted them decided she wanted to offer childcare within her home and thought she'd be limiting herself by having cats. Roma and his mother found themselves back at the shelter.
Kegan and I have stayed involved with this shelter. We volunteer there and make financial donations when we can. Each time we went we would seek them out and spend time with them. They were very attached to one another, so the shelter was making an effort to find someone who would take both of them. When we went by this past Christmas we discovered their mom had been adopted...but Roma was still there.
It was hard to see him. I felt bad he had his mother, whom he had been so close to, taken away from him. Because he looks just like Noel, it was sad to see him in a cage; I couldn't help but see my own cat with a different fate. Honestly, I considered taking him home. Kegan, surprisingly, was the one who talked me out of it. We already had two cats, and three seemed excessive. Also Kennedy and Noel get along so well, we didn't know how the dynamic would change by adding an additional cat. With a heavy heart I left the shelter, and just began praying that Roma would find a home, one that would be lasting.
I am so grateful he's been adopted, and I truly hope that this is his "furever" home, as the shelter would say. (Yes, so corny. But I couldn't help myself.) For anyone that has ever considered adopting a pet, or has the means to, please consider it. There are so many Roma's out there...so many pets who are simply looking for a family, care and love. I guarantee you, from personal experience, you'll get that back, and more, in return.
Roma Love
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
#154: Kim
My students have begun a research paper, which means I've begun three of the most delightful weeks of my school year, because I get to spend them in the library with our school librarian, Kim.
For a Language Arts and Literature teacher, there is arguably no one more resourceful in your daily professional life than the school librarian. I hit the jackpot when I was hired to teach at the school where Kim, librarian extraordinaire, works. She's truly amazing: with a history teaching background and personal love of literature she has the perfect blend of instructional skill and passion. Today in her introductory lesson to my classes she was reminding them that her job is to prepare them to independently research as well as find books that they love to read, and I was reminded just how well she achieves both of those objectives on a daily basis. She can steer any kid in the right direction, drops the titles of great novels on demand and has cultivated a library that is energetic and the homiest, most cheerful part of my school. Since I began my teaching career Kim has been supportive of me and my work with my students, and I've so thankful for everything she's done for me and for them.
Beyond being a fabulous librarian Kim is also, simply, a fabulous person. She is so great to talk to, laugh with, and the first person to offer me baked goods if they are available (which is a quick way to make me fast friends). For the first four years of my teaching career my classroom was right next door to the library, and I couldn't have loved that more. I didn't just appreciate my vicinity to my favorite place in the school, but took comfort in knowing I was only minutes away from seeing one of my favorite colleagues. Any librarian is held in high regard in my opinion, but Kim is one I hold in the highest of regards.
For a Language Arts and Literature teacher, there is arguably no one more resourceful in your daily professional life than the school librarian. I hit the jackpot when I was hired to teach at the school where Kim, librarian extraordinaire, works. She's truly amazing: with a history teaching background and personal love of literature she has the perfect blend of instructional skill and passion. Today in her introductory lesson to my classes she was reminding them that her job is to prepare them to independently research as well as find books that they love to read, and I was reminded just how well she achieves both of those objectives on a daily basis. She can steer any kid in the right direction, drops the titles of great novels on demand and has cultivated a library that is energetic and the homiest, most cheerful part of my school. Since I began my teaching career Kim has been supportive of me and my work with my students, and I've so thankful for everything she's done for me and for them.
Beyond being a fabulous librarian Kim is also, simply, a fabulous person. She is so great to talk to, laugh with, and the first person to offer me baked goods if they are available (which is a quick way to make me fast friends). For the first four years of my teaching career my classroom was right next door to the library, and I couldn't have loved that more. I didn't just appreciate my vicinity to my favorite place in the school, but took comfort in knowing I was only minutes away from seeing one of my favorite colleagues. Any librarian is held in high regard in my opinion, but Kim is one I hold in the highest of regards.
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