Sunday, March 25, 2018

The gradual shift

https://twowritingteachers.org/2018/03/25/day-25-of-the-march-solsc-sol18/
It happened slowly. Gradually. Little by little. I realized some things about unions are needed for my profession. I realized that social capital is a real thing. Without it, it's just me against the world. And in order to make my life better for myself and my kids, I need help.  I need friends. I need a village. So I take one more step away from my conservative roots. First I go from union buster to union member. Then I go from each-man-for-himself to working for the good of all, greater good, blah blah blah. Only its not blah blah blah. As I become more aware of my need for help from others, I realize that I can't believe I need help from others and also that "my" tax money shouldn't go those lazy slobs on welfare. Because I might be a teacher, but I am still one of "those" people. My first three years of teaching I still qualified for vision assistance. And let's face it, I needed it. My family needed it. I can't be one of those "if they really want to get out of poverty, they can just get a job...." and be the person who is digging out of poverty with the help of an army of caring, selfless people. I can't be the teacher, parent, opinionated jerk, who says.... "We just need to spank these kids, my parents spanked me and I turned out fine...." Because these kids are not you and your siblings, and I really am not sure you turned out okay, in spite of your claims. Because when I look around, I see a broken society. When I see the science explaining the connection between trauma and the gaps we're seeing in children's learning and the behavior problems present in schools today. I say.... maybe black and white isn't working for us these days. Maybe there's a lot of gray area. Maybe adults who were traumatized are pushing through the best they can and in turn pushing our kids to push through the best that they can. Black and white; right and wrong; punishment and reward. They are not working for these kids. These children don't respond well to judgment, harshness, legalism. They respond better to patience, kindness, even tones. Don't we all. But follow the science. DNA doesn't lie. Trauma makes a DNA marker. Toxic stress makes a DNA marker. I could go on all day. I might do that.

So... if your trauma, stress, etc., marks your DNA, it's altered. Changed. Compromised. Predisposed to the marked behavior. Now we have a nation full of people battling trauma, toxic stress, effects of abuse, affects of neglect and poverty and all that goes with that. And we plan to treat it by cutting mental health spending, bringing back corporal punishment and letting those poor starving bastards dig their own selves out of poverty because it will be good for them. Oh wait, and blaming teachers for nearly every thing wrong with society today.

I'd tell you my rant is over, but it's not. It will surface again. and again. and again. From right wing conservative to moderate to a little bit liberal to full out ranting socially charged independent woman.

Saturday, March 17, 2018

Up and down merri-go-round

Change.
So hard.
It takes practice.
Turn it over.
practice different behaviors.
Pick it up again.
Put it down.
Practice new behaviors.
Pick up old behaviors.
It's the dance.

Okay. Here's the deal. Last Summer I got serious about changing my health. Between June 21st and December 10th I lost almost 30 pounds.... 28 to be exact. But, you know.... holidays. winter. And slowly, celebration by celebration, more and more sugar crept into my life again. Then soda pop (or whatever you call it, Coca-Cola to be exact). Walking became lonely. Healthy eating became a chore. I got more and more out of practice.

Now I feel stuck. 10 pounds heavier. Sugar addicted. Sluggish. I have started experiencing health problems that I had not dealt with for months. 

Every morning, I start out strong. I resolve to eat well, avoid sugar, walk for my mental and emotional health. After I get done with my day, I don't care anymore. I want sugar, I want my chair, and a mindless tv show. I want cookies, carbs, and comfort.

I want it. I don't want it. I want it. I don't want it. I want it.

I want it. I think.

How do I get back to wanting it all the time? Because my health is in need. And my soul. And my emotions.

Here I go again.

https://twowritingteachers.org/2018/03/17/day-17-sol18/


Sunday, March 11, 2018

March 11, SOL, Time....

Time.
Just uttering the word drums up emotions, song lyrics, thoughts, images. I ponder the time change and how hard tomorrow morning will be and my mind is flooded with little snippets of songs about time... "does anybody really know know what time it is, does anybody really care?"; "time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future...."; "time after time," and (of course, with all the memes) "if I could turn back time..."

Some days I really do want to turn back time. I want a do-over on so many shortcomings in my life: bad parenting, poor citizenship, less-than-stellar teaching. Most days I just want to maximize the time I have. But I know that this next week will leave me worn out and exhausted. The time change drains me and while I despise it, I love more sunlight during my waking hours. I know it will help me over come my winter blues.

Take time for yourself. Give of your time. The most precious gift you can give is time. Time keeps ticking. You can't stop time. Your time is what you make of it. Money can't buy love, it is spelled t-i-m-e. Not enough time in the day. Make the most of your time together. Time to exercise. Take time for meditation. You will not regret investing your time. You will regret not giving of your time. Time to play. Time to work. It's all about time.

Time. Such a precious commodity. I am trading an hour of sleep and many tired days of adjustment, for more time to enjoy my children and live my life to the fullest. But today, I am just barely dragging into this time change. It's time to embrace the time change.


https://twowritingteachers.org/2018/03/11/day-11-sol18/
Read about everyone's Slice of Life in the March SOL writing challenge.

Saturday, March 3, 2018

Day 3: Slice of Life

My slice, glimpse, peak into the mundane.... sounds easy enough. Every year, every day, I find it completely overwhelming to try to just find one slice per day, not a potpourri of every imaginable sliver.

Somehow I have gotten off the gratitude train. I have gotten pulled down by the muck and mire that is life. Many days I feel myself drowning as I slog through the sludge. When I take a minute to reflect, I think, "what happened to my intentional focus on gratitude?" What indeed. Somewhere, somehow, I just started slipping away from an intentional focus. I assumed it would naturally carry on. But the reality is that I know myself and I know that deeply ingrained in my psyche is a tendency to cry the victim, to succumb to a feeling of being beaten down. Gratitude is not second nature to me, it has to be practiced. So today I will make a choice. I will start small and find 3 things to be grateful for.

Today I am grateful that I can re-train my brain. This is small. This is ginormous. Because I can choose a focus and practice it, over and over and over, until new dendrites grow in my brain and retrain it. If I can do this, I can teach little people to do this. This leads to resilience and a sense that the circumstances that pull us down cannot defeat us, that it is just a circumstance, not who we are. I saw "we" because I know that it is necessary to model and teach this is to the community of 6 and 7 year olds whose daily outlook on life is deeply colored by my outlook on life.

Today I am grateful for my class family. They are simply amazing.

Today I am grateful that I have choices as to how I respond to whatever life might send my way.

https://twowritingteachers.org/2018/03/03/day-3-sol18/