Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Is it Autumn or Winter?
I don't know the answer because I took these pictures within days of each other. Either way, it's pretty outside.
I am a boob.
It's the thirteenth week of school (hooray!) and I have already cried in front of my class three times.
The first time was while reading the poem they were to perform for our Veteran's Day assembly (a BIG deal at this school). It's called 'The Things That Make a Soldier Great' by Edgar A. Guest. It's all about how soldiers don't fight for their country- they fight for their home and family. So I cried. I'm secretly very patriotic; not many may know. Now you know (I also used to cry every week during the national anthem. Now that I'm in charge and trying to wrangle sixth graders into being respectful, I don't cry every time. But I still do fairly often).
The next two times were while finishing 'Where the Red Fern Grows'. Now, this was the first book I ever cried for. I read it in fifth grade and remember crying my eyes out. I have since cried in many a book. I was very excited to read this book again with these kids. I thought I could handle it, as an adult.
Obviously not.
I had to make one of my students finish reading on Friday (when we stopped right after Billy buries Old Dan) AND today, when I couldn't see the words through my tears after Billy found Little Ann on Dan's grave.
My only consolation is that some of the kids were crying right along with me.
But that still makes me a boob. A cry-baby. Hopefully the kids don't judge me too much.
The first time was while reading the poem they were to perform for our Veteran's Day assembly (a BIG deal at this school). It's called 'The Things That Make a Soldier Great' by Edgar A. Guest. It's all about how soldiers don't fight for their country- they fight for their home and family. So I cried. I'm secretly very patriotic; not many may know. Now you know (I also used to cry every week during the national anthem. Now that I'm in charge and trying to wrangle sixth graders into being respectful, I don't cry every time. But I still do fairly often).
The next two times were while finishing 'Where the Red Fern Grows'. Now, this was the first book I ever cried for. I read it in fifth grade and remember crying my eyes out. I have since cried in many a book. I was very excited to read this book again with these kids. I thought I could handle it, as an adult.
Obviously not.
I had to make one of my students finish reading on Friday (when we stopped right after Billy buries Old Dan) AND today, when I couldn't see the words through my tears after Billy found Little Ann on Dan's grave.
My only consolation is that some of the kids were crying right along with me.
But that still makes me a boob. A cry-baby. Hopefully the kids don't judge me too much.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Interestingly awful
This is what is happening right now in education. It's awful.
Read this article about it- my boss is quoted. She's very eloquent.
http://educatingourselves.
Read this article about it- my boss is quoted. She's very eloquent.
http://educatingourselves.
"You were probably tired; there's a lot on your mind."
Last night, as we lay in bed after a full day, I tugged on Josh's hand and said, "We need to pray."
He didn't hear me.
I tugged again and repeated my statement, only to be surprised by his response: "We already did, don't you remember?"
No. I didn't remember. I must have been thinking about other things when it happened.
How horrible am I???
We laughed for a long long time and then I prayed an apology to Heavenly Father for my distracted and exhausted excuse for my lack of mental engagement in giving thanks.
Don't judge.
He didn't hear me.
I tugged again and repeated my statement, only to be surprised by his response: "We already did, don't you remember?"
No. I didn't remember. I must have been thinking about other things when it happened.
How horrible am I???
We laughed for a long long time and then I prayed an apology to Heavenly Father for my distracted and exhausted excuse for my lack of mental engagement in giving thanks.
Don't judge.
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