Finding Peace in the Frustrating

12 Dec

Sometimes, I get so frustrated with the path I have chosen to follow. I think about all the authors that I follow on Twitter and all the authors that I read their books, and I think to myself, “Why isn’t that me?”

It isn’t me for several reasons, the first of which is that I haven’t made myself into one of those writers. I have other things on my plate right now, and up until a week ago, one of the biggest things on my plate was graduate school. Now, the biggest thing on my plate is being a first year teacher. I don’t know why God wanted me where I am, and sometimes I get frustrated with this whole learning lessons the hard way thing.

I get frustrated with the fact that I am not teaching AP 11th and 12th grade English. I get frustrated with the limited knowledge and understanding of my students because I have never had to deal with this much diversity before in my life. I bust my butt trying to make everything as meaningful and understandable as possible, and the biggest hurdle that I face is one that I cannot fix: student behavior.

I’m young, we all know this, and my students frustrate me the same way my siblings do. I know that they can do better, I expect them to do better, then they frustrate me further when I allow myself to get disappointed. I want them to be successful, and more than that I want them to beat the odds.

I saw an interesting quote today that said the job of a parent is to point the way, then the harder job is to step out of the way. I’m not a parent, but I do feel that way so often that it is scary. When do I let them fail? When am I doing to much for them? When can I say that I have done everything that I can without handicapping them?

Until next time…

Geraldine Brooks

15 Nov

As most of you know, I was fortunate enough to hear Geraldine Brooks speak at the Fayetteville Public Library. She was there as part of the libraries 150th celebration (I feel like this is the wrong word…) of the American Civil War. She was fantastic.

Most people think of writers in the olden way: sitting frantically typing at a type writer, surrounded by the crumpled papers of what the writer views as absolutely unsuccessful text. They sit alone in their tower of creativity writing about the complexities of life on earth, fighting battles that mere mortals cannot possibly comprehend.

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This is definitely not the picture that Geraldine Brooks created in my mind. She was funny and interesting, and more importantly, she had lived. Really lived. After college, she spent her life as a foreign ambassador working in poverty and stress filled countries. One continent she mentioned specifically was Africa, and we all know the many perils that African countries have faced in the past 30 years.

She said that this is why she writes historical fiction. She said that part of her job was not just to write about the most horrible things happening in the world, her job, the part that kept her going, was hoping that someone important would read what she wrote and that somehow the world would listen. Listening would then hopefully lead to change. And, ultimately, that’s what the world needs…change.

Now as a writer of historical fiction, her goal hasn’t changed. She still seeks to change the world, one reader at a time.

As a reader, and a wishful writer, I was inspired. She gave us hints into her life, her writing life, and she inspired me to pick up my pen again. One thing she talked about was the importance of words. Sometimes, one word can change the entire feel of a novel, and that one word can be the transporting element that takes the reader to a different time and place. I hope to one day accomplish this for readers of my own. Thank you Geraldine, for inspiration, for hope, and most of all, for helping me remember that one book can change the world..

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What it means to be a teacher: Reflections from Junior High

11 Nov


Being a teacher is hard work. I put in long hours filled with planning, writing, analyzing, grading, thinking, and considering the impact a particular lesson will have on that student that is struggling. I ask myself questions like “Is this going to make him or her frustrated because it’s too difficult?” and “This student really needs to be more engaged. Is this material going to stretch his or her brain enough to make it meaningful?”

I struggle with these questions and more on a daily basis. I truly want to be the best teacher that I can be, and with that expectation for myself, you can only imagine what I expect from my students. I found out today that more than 75% of the students at my school are not reading at grade level. 75%. That number is mentally crushing to me.

Coming from a background where reading was valued to the point that I “caught the love” for it, I can’t imagine why my students are struggling the way that they are. Why can’t my kids read? And more importantly, how can I help them to not only learn to read, but learn to appreciate texts in the way that makes them meaningful?

How do I pass on a love for reading to students who don’t have someone at home who reads to them? How do I show these “street smart” kids the value of a book? I don’t know yet, but I do know that I am going to give it my all and teach them in the only way that I know how. I’m going to read to them. I’m going to model the way I read. I am going to use inquiry to show them why it matters to them.

I am going to learn how to ask the right questions to make the material meaningful.

And, more than anything else, I’m going to care. I am going to love every one of those students, even the 7th graders, more than any teacher has loved them thus far. I am going to be patient. I am going to do my best to not lose my temper. I am going to do everything that I can to show them the path to success.

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Apologies and Catching up….

06 Nov


I feel like I am always apologizing for my lack of consistency, and yet I always breakdown and wait forever between posts. There is something running through my veins that tells me to overload my plate or I won’t be happy. That’s just the way of things with me, I suppose. I am, as usual, going to try to do better.

Anyways, my life has been more than hectic. I have spent a great deal of my time in the car. I commute an hour one way to work every day. It is mentally draining to spend that much time in the car. I definitely am not a fan. Teaching is hard, which I always knew it would be.

I had the worst day thus far this past Friday. It was bad enough that at six o’clock tonight I was panicking about having to go to school tomorrow. When my husband asked what was wrong, (he always knows. Always.), I didn’t want to tell him because I was embarrassed. I felt like I was being stupid. How can one bad day make me not want to go back? He said, “Casey, you love those kids. Of course you want to go back.”

He was right. Of course I want to go back. I do love those kids. And one bad day is not going to dissuade me from doing what I love, which is teaching.

One thing that I don’t love, however, is the seventh grade mindset. It is a different animal. I still haven’t figured out what to do with them. Their inconsistency makes me feel like I’m losing my mind. I never know what they will act like. I have had a few success stories though. Those small successes are the only things that are giving me hope.

Well, now that you are somewhat caught up, let’s talk about the blogs future. I’m going to be blogging about a lot of things from now on. Some of the topics include writing, reading, good books, teaching, insights into the minds of junior high students, and other related topics. I also might post the occasional piece of fiction of my own, and maybe if I have some really fantastic student writing, I might see about posting their work on here. With their parents permission of course.

I’m not exactly positive where I am headed. I don’t know what the future holds for me. What I do know, is that I love writing. I love writing this blog and reading good books. I love telling stories and teaching. Those things that I love, have to once again become priorities. I have to do some things for myself, and I have to start somewhere. Before I know it, I will be old and wishing I had done some of the things I always said I would do. What better day to start than today.

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“The slow days drifted on, and each left behind a slightly lightened weight of apprehension.” Mark Twain

11 Sep

Do you ever wonder if there will be enough time to do all the things you want to do? Enough time to read all the books you want to read? Enough time to learn all the new, beautiful words that you want to learn? Enough time to see the billions of examples of beauty in the world, and more than that, enough time to gain the wisdom to be able to appreciate them all.

The more I read, the more I realize how little I know and understand about the world. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly. There are so many books I want to read, and so few hours that I get to spend reading. In this world that moves so quickly, so loudly, where is the time for that?

Mark Twain said it best when he wrote, “Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR.”

The beauty must be found in the words, in the creation of worlds. The moral is sometimes not important. Occasionally, we must do things with only thoughts of enjoyment in our minds.

I hate to add a moral to the story, but find what you love, and pursue it. Continue growing and changing, for that is the best part of our world. Pursue the wisdom needed to see the beauty in all things, not just the vain beauty of youth, and pray that there will be books in heaven, for only an eternity will be enough time.


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“The slow days drifted on, and each left behind a slightly lightened weight of apprehension.” Mark Twain

11 Sep

Do you ever wonder if there will be enough time to do all the things you want to do? Enough time to read all the books you want to read? Enough time to learn all the new, beautiful words that you want to learn? Enough time to see the billions of examples of beauty in the world, and more than that, enough time to gain the wisdom to be able to appreciate them all.

The more I read, the more I realize how little I know and understand about the world. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly. There are so many books I want to read, and so few hours that I get to spend reading. In this world that moves so quickly, so loudly, where is the time for that?

Mark Twain said it best when he wrote, “Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR.”

The beauty must be found in the words, in the creation of worlds. The moral is sometimes not important. Occasionally, we must do things with only thoughts of enjoyment in our minds.

I hate to add a moral to the story, but find what you love, and pursue it. Continue growing and changing, for that is the best part of our world. Pursue the wisdom needed to see the beauty in all things, not just the vain beauty of youth, and pray that there will be books in heaven, for only an eternity will be enough time.


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I cannot do this on my own….

19 Aug


I’m always amazed at how God chooses to show himself to me. Never in a shout or a raised voice, just in the little things. Today I saw beauty in the sky, lighting bolts and thunder, followed by a sunrise that made blue fade to violet, to red, to orange, to a yellow so pale it looked white and colorless.

Everyday I am fortunate enough to drive through the mountains on I-540 to Fort Smith, Arkansas. Talk about a beautiful drive. It’s beautiful now, after one of the hottest summers we have ever experienced, so I can’t imagine how beautiful it will be in the fall and then later in the spring. This drive gives me time to think and reflect on the day. I’m learning a lot about myself through this job and even more about myself through that valuable time in the morning and evening.

The thing with God is that I know he’s there and present. I see him in every part of my drive. The trees, the sunrise, the mountains, the lightning, the wind, the flowers, the everything. While I was driving this morning, I was listening to my iPod. Normally, I listen to a book, but today I turned the iPod on shuffle and let it play. I normally don’t listen to “Christian” music. I got turned off to that a long time ago because I realized that listening to “Christian” music didn’t make me a Christian. It did, however, make me feel like I had a right to some feeling of self righteous supremacy that no one has a right to.

I don’t pretend to be perfect. I doubt all the time. Sometimes my analytical mind does nothing but get into the way of my feelings and emotions. I’m always so divided by my emotions and my brain.

This morning when I put my iPod on shuffle, my only expectation was to listen to music and get ready for the day. Instead, I got a lesson on learning to depend more on God and less on myself. I had three songs in a row tell me that I can’t do it on my own. I’ve been bearing this weight of fear and anticipation about the upcoming year because I’ve been trying to bear it on my own. Who knew that God would communicate through my iPod? Now to take that communication to heart.


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“We accept the verdict of the past until the need for change cries out loudly enough to force upon us a choice between the comforts of further inertia and the irksomeness of action.”

30 Jul

How do I begin to sum up the last few weeks? So much has changed, both good and a little sad. Leaving Conway was bittersweet. Our friends in Conway are moving on with their lives. Homes are being purchased, relationships are being formed, lives are ultimately changing. And we’re not there to witness it or grow with them. While we grow separately, we must remember each other. We will celebrate our successes and mourn our disappointments in the same manner that we always did, together. The friendships I made in Conway are the most valuable to me. They met me and cared for me enough to let me continue to grow into the individual that I am now.

On the good side, Nathan and I are doing the same things in a new place. Starting over is like taking a deep, cleansing breath after being in a room full of smoke. There really is nothing quite like it. New relationships are being formed, not better or worse really, just different. House hunting takes up a great deal of our time as we search for a home that we can fix and make our own.

I now spend two hours in a car a day going to my new job. I’ve decided to use that time for personal enjoyment. Right now, I’m listening to Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. All of those books that I’ve always wanted to read but never had time, or never made time for, have now become priorities. I relish the alone time. I don’t, however, relish the miles I’m putting on my car.

I have accepted a position in the Fort Smith Public School District. I will be working at Darby Junior High teaching 7-9 ELL English and regular English. I’m nervous and excited at the same time. I’ve never worked with English Language Learners before, but I know that God has bigger plans for me than I have for myself. My classroom is big with three windows and several computers. I’m decorating with owls and am having a blast doing it.

In other news, this month was the end of a very important part of my childhood. I laughed, I smiled, I cried. I celebrated and I mourned. The final installment of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows premiered in theaters. Really, that’s all I can say about this. Words can’t express how much that one series meant to me. J. K. Rowling really changed my life. Without this series, I might never have fought for my right to read, I might never have carried Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban to my private, Christian school hidden in the jacket of another book. I don’t hold it against my school, though. Prejudice that is harbored for a long time is harder to change, and if I hadn’t had the need to be secretive, it might not have been so important to me.

I’m sorry it took me so long to post. I’ve been planning that paragraph since July 14th at three in the morning. I still didn’t do it justice.

Keep doing whatever it is that makes you tick, and I’ll post again soon.

-CC

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.

“We accept the verdict of the past until the need for change cries out loudly enough to force upon us a choice between the comforts of further inertia and the irksomeness of action.”

30 Jul

How do I begin to sum up the last few weeks? So much has changed, both good and a little sad. Leaving Conway was bittersweet. Our friends in Conway are moving on with their lives. Homes are being purchased, relationships are being formed, lives are ultimately changing. And we’re not there to witness it or grow with them. While we grow separately, we must remember each other. We will celebrate our successes and mourn our disappointments in the same manner that we always did, together. The friendships I made in Conway are the most valuable to me. They met me and cared for me enough to let me continue to grow into the individual that I am now.

On the good side, Nathan and I are doing the same things in a new place. Starting over is like taking a deep, cleansing breath after being in a room full of smoke. There really is nothing quite like it. New relationships are being formed, not better or worse really, just different. House hunting takes up a great deal of our time as we search for a home that we can fix and make our own.

I now spend two hours in a car a day going to my new job. I’ve decided to use that time for personal enjoyment. Right now, I’m listening to Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. All of those books that I’ve always wanted to read but never had time, or never made time for, have now become priorities. I relish the alone time. I don’t, however, relish the miles I’m putting on my car.

I have accepted a position in the Fort Smith Public School District. I will be working at Darby Junior High teaching 7-9 ELL English and regular English. I’m nervous and excited at the same time. I’ve never worked with English Language Learners before, but I know that God has bigger plans for me than I have for myself. My classroom is big with three windows and several computers. I’m decorating with owls and am having a blast doing it.

In other news, this month was the end of a very important part of my childhood. I laughed, I smiled, I cried. I celebrated and I mourned. The final installment of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows premiered in theaters. Really, that’s all I can say about this. Words can’t express how much that one series meant to me. J. K. Rowling really changed my life. Without this series, I might never have fought for my right to read, I might never have carried Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban to my private, Christian school hidden in the jacket of another book. I don’t hold it against my school, though. Prejudice that is harbored for a long time is harder to change, and if I hadn’t had the need to be secretive, it might not have been so important to me.

I’m sorry it took me so long to post. I’ve been planning that paragraph since July 14th at three in the morning. I still didn’t do it justice.

Keep doing whatever it is that makes you tick, and I’ll post again soon.

-CC

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad.

Dakota the Huntress

07 Jul

The first post after a long break is always the hardest. Staring at the fish tank isn’t going to organize my thoughts, nor is it going to write the blog for me. I had done so well, until disaster struck. It’s been since June 6, and if I tried to tell you all that has happened over the past month, you wouldn’t believe me. So here is the catch-up plan: I’ll give you a quick break down of what has been happening in my life, and afterwards I’ll tell you a funny story, so stay tuned.

My Life: A Breakdown

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Because I really think I’m superhuman, I took 3 graduate classes in the last summer session. Haha. Guess what I learned? I am not superhuman, just ridiculously devoted. I finished out the semester today, and boy does it feel good. Oh, and I did it with my GPA still intact.

Job hunt is still in process. If you know anyone who can help me out up here in NWA, let me know. =)

I moved my life to Northwest Arkansas and moved in with my very generous in-laws. Nathan and I are on the job hunt, and let’s just say that I’m on a house hunt. Nathan seems to think we HAVE to have jobs first. Geeze he likes to put a damper on my fun.

That’s a basic breakdown of my life right now. I’ll fill in some of the gaps in the weeks to come. Now for the funny story.

At our family reunion Nathan and I learned a valuable lesson about our precious adopted Dakota. She is a huntress. Yes, that’s right, my goofy, sweet, slobbery Dakota is a huntress.

The morning sun was barely out and my eyes were half shut waiting for the coffee to brew. I made my cup and made my way to the front porch to enjoy the cup of life that I was about to enjoy. I sat my cup down and realized that the gate was open, and Dakota was not in my line of sight. I frantically close the gate to keep Willow in and jog after her.

The problem with Dakota is that she often doesn’t remember her name. After a loop around the neighboring houses, I get frantic. Tears begin to roll as I picture Dakota, alone in the woods living off of bugs and leaves. I run back to the house to get Nathan’s help. He comes outside and we walk together.

I am beyond clear thinking. “She doesn’t have a tag on her collar,” I think to myself. Tears start to roll down my cheeks. I’m visibly not okay now. I yell for her and yell for her. Nothing. Then I hear her bark from somewhere in the woods. I look and suddenly three deer (yes, three, not one) run from the forest closely followed by a barking Dakota.

We yell for her to stop, but the hunting horns are calling too loudly as Dakota pursues her prey…across a golf course at 7 in the morning. Yes, a golf course. On foot won’t work.

I run to my car and go out in search of her. I make several passes around the island, tears rolling, windows down so I can yell for her, but I have no voice. I picture her back in the pound, alone and sad. I see Willow looking out various windows waiting on her to come home. My mind is probably my biggest enemy in these situations.

As I’m driving through the streets where I last saw her in pursuit of the deer, I spot a speck of white. I quickly reverse and check it out. It is my Dakota. Tears still freely rolling I get out of the car and drag her to the back seat. No front seat for her.

And that is the end of the story. The tale of how we found out Dakota was a huntress.

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CC Riley

"A ship is safe in harbor, but that’s not what ships are for." –William Shedd