Split Screen Sadness

I had the best intentions at the end of 2019 of blogging about my word and the year. I have embraced that I am less than an even okay blogger.  But as everyone was saying goodbye to 2019 and obsessed with a new decade, I was just so thankful for a year filled with some lessons, a few blessings, and just the ability to experience JOY in midst of a less than joyous season of life.  So here I sit, four months into this new decade, where I finally have more time than I know what to do with and the inability to do most of the things I needed the extra time for and I can't help but think life is full of irony.  I picked the word peace for 2020 and I knew it might be difficult in some situations to own it and live it, four months in and the word "bit" is an understatement.

Somewhere in 2008ish, give or take a year, I was at Sam's on a weekend afternoon with my grandmother and she was looking at these plants (a Christmas cactus). I asked why she would want one and she said something about their blooms. I don't remember every detail of the conversation but I do clearly remember telling her they were not a pretty plant.  She didn't listen and bought two of them.  {That part of the story makes me laugh because if you knew her, it's just so who she was}. Fast forward a few weeks and she bought a pot, moved it to the pot, and gifted it to me.  I reminded her that I didn't want it, I didn't like the pot, and on and on.

She begins to tell me this story about how someone gave her this plant (what I know now as a Thanksgiving cactus) when my Papa passed away the day after Thanksgiving some 20 years earlier.  She told me that she faithfully watered the plant, gave it sunlight, and took care of it and it bloomed once a year. But she faithfully took care of it year after year, even when it didn't always bloom, because it reminded her of Leon and seasons when life just is anything but fair.  She said I think you need one. I disagreed but took the cactus sat it in my window in my classroom and watered it once a week.  The first year, I didn't put much effort or thought into caring for it, it was somewhat of an after thought.  Except with every passing year, it kind of became a challenge to see if I could make sure it bloomed every year because at the time the one my grandmother had stopped blooming. In recent years, I have learned why - sunlight and darkness are important, balance.  Over the years, I would show her pictures of it blooming and it was something joyous for us to share and connect over. Then came some years, where I had to remind her that she gave it to me and so the breaths were held a little tighter as the season approached for it to bloom.

Mid 2018 to Mid 2019 was filled with lots of firsts without Hazel as she transitioned to Memory Care.  I chose JOY for 2019 because I fully believe that you can experience joy and grief simultaneously.  And 2019 presented challenges that I was not fully emotionally prepared for and if you know me, you know how hard that is - I AM A PLANNER.

But you can't game plan for someone you love to have Alzheimer's.  You hear about it all the time, TV shows and movies, commercials, you name it and it's predominant.  The word Alzheimer's is but the reality of it is all of those situations lightly glaze over the actual reality of it.  What was hard 3 or 4 years ago, are things I would take in a heart beat currently.  The right now is the easiest it's going to be this side of Heaven.  So 2019 for me was about being present but also "flipping the script".  How could I change my negative thoughts and/or feelings about everything but specifically Alzheimer's and losing her in every single way while she's still here.  How can I separate my love and memory of her and the disease?  it mirrors in education (and parenting), separating the behavior from the child.  Through it all, my early childhood background really has made me better for Hazel.  My background in child development has helped me understand where she's at, in reverse order of what I am working with in the classroom.  Teaching and my littles have blessed me with an outlet that allowed me to sift through the emotions, experience them, and pour into something I loved.  It's reminded me a million times over to be gentle with Hazel as she experiences loss of her own, to try and take her perspective, and just meet her where she is, regardless of the decade.

January was long, so long, we joked about it. February had 29 days this year and it still was not enough and March was a thief.  On March 10th, I drove to OKC to "eat" dinner with Hazel. When I left, I hugged her goodbye told her I would see her in a couple of days and I would paint her nails for her.  I have this habit of taking a picture with her or of her because there's this underlying fear that every time is the last time.  I took a picture with her and my hair was a mess and she roasted me for it. It made me laugh then and I can still find joy in it, now 40+ days later. I could have told her I was still adjusting to the time change, there was a full moon, I was juggling student led conference prep. 24 hours later, on my youngest nephew's birthday, NBA cancelled basketball and another 24 hours later, visitation was cut off because of COVID-19. At the time, I was sad but thought okay, at the latest, it's a precaution for a few weeks.  Except here we almost eight weeks later AND... there isn't an end in sight, and if you know me, even slightly, you know that's the hardest part. Give me dates, deadlines, and I'll make you a schedule and a to do list.

"All you need is love is a lie 'cause
We had love but we still said goodbye"

And just like you can't plan to love someone with Alzheimer's, you can't really game plan when life takes away your biggest outlet for managing and dealing with grief.  But here we are, Spring Break and a 2 week school closure later, I started teaching Kindergarten virtually four weeks ago. I woke up nervous and excited like it was the first day of school but also exceeding sad because as hard as I, or any other educator, try the work through a screen, no matter the device, the app, or the content - it just is not the same. I absolutely HATE it. It isn't going to be the same and that has to be okay, except it isn't okay.

The Thursday before Spring Break, our last day together in room 29, one of my littles got mad at me when I asked them to take a break. I cannot remember what they did and the initial cause of me telling them to take a break but I remember the little being upset and telling me, "I am mad at you" and as the whole class watched, "I said, it's okay for you to be mad at me".  And for outsiders looking in this seems so trivial but it haunts me because we ALL needed one more quarter together.

As I think about all the things my littles will miss, the ones that I can name, I also find myself grieving all the unknowns, simple things like Summer birthdays.  I have had a June baby ask me all year when we would celebrate Summer birthdays and I said in May. The thing is I made promises that I can't make good on and that hurts.  It hurts for me because I know what it was going to look like in many ways but I am devastated for the little ones who never will get to experience the last quarter with me and with each other.  The morning meetings we will miss, the recess duties, hatching chicks {that are currently hatching in my kitchen}, the end of the year countdown with pancakes, pajamas, tie dye and tacos.  

I think what I am going to miss the most though, are the unknowns, the things that we water and weeded for those first three nine weeks together.  The take a breaks taken without question, the problem solving, the friendships, a classroom that runs at ease because of the 100+ days together.  I can't tell you what our number of the day was when we left on March 13th and it's a detail I didn't pay that close of attention to - for a number of reasons - but it haunts me that I don't know it and I can't name it but I never knew it was going to be our last.

At the absolute heart of this - virtual learning cannot replicate the classroom. Am I surprised by that? Not at all. But here I am in this situation that is so uncomfortably hard that I did not choose and am faced with decisions I get to make in response to it and maybe that's proof that you can find peace, even in the middle of a life sized game of Hide and Go Seek.

Early on, I was having a conversation with my brother about Alzheimer's and beliefs about it in terms of relationships.  Some people believe "oh, they won't remember" and that's the very real reality of the disease but I forever want to be on the side that says, "they might not remember, but I will."  So ultimately, how do I respond when things are not even close to going my way?  

Last week,  a former student who I had in Kindergarten said to me, "I just hate this" and without a thought I said, "me too". 

This season reminds me of another Hazel story.  She crocheted for years and when I was little, she would make me sit at the bottom of her rocking chair and untangle the yarn when it was knotted.  I disliked it, whether it was boring or I was not patient enough, or a mixture of both.  The memory was packed way back in the years.  December, we were making these ornaments {with some of her green yarn} and a couple children got theirs tangled and just like that the memory came crashing back about not pulling too hard because the yarn will split.

And then on one of my biweekly visits on the same week, Hazel brings out this bundle of yarn hands me the tangle and says help me get this knot out.  

Whatever the comparison, the cactus or the yarn, Alzheimer's has taught me that a season can be full of discomfort and dislike and filled with joy, blessings, and even peace. 

"There's no substitute for time or for the sadness, split screen sadness.

We share the sadness, split screen sadness"   

Heartbreak Warfare

In 2001, I was a sophomore in college and accounting was my major.  I was regularly attending classes that I absolutely did not like.  Somewhere amid the misery, I was studying at a bookstore and came across a CD (who knew those would end up dated?) called Room for Squares.  I had never heard of the artist and somehow as a girl that mostly listened to country music, I ended up with the CD and it played on repeat as I was making what would end up being big life decisions.

John Mayer always ends up on a shuffle during times of higher stress, which usually is early to mid August and May.  And yet this year, there he was at the beginning of March.  CPA's have tax season but educators have the school year.  March is a weird time for such high stress but here we sit in Oklahoma with a looming shut down awaiting unless there are decisions made by April 1, 2018.  

A little one describing this picture at student led conferences: "you can see the tape but this is our heart."

I have read articles, posts, stories, etc. explaining what needs to happen to prevent the shut down from occurring.  Inevitably, there is always a comment about how teachers choose their profession.  In 2001, when I was sitting with a course load of classes through the business college, I just could not even imagine 40+ years of crunching numbers.  I changed my major to Early Childhood Education during the middle of the semester.  I was taking Calculus II and did not even begin to understand any of it.  I continued to go to classes and somehow managed to make it through that semester - I learned more about determination than I did from the grades that ended up on the transcript.  So when people say "but teachers choose their profession", you are absolutely right, I did choose it.  I have continued to choose it over the last 13 years.  And even when the days (months or years) are HARD because believe when I say it is hard, I do not regret choosing education.

But there are plenty of things that I have not chosen...

The judgement and criticism of teaching and teachers is real.  I am human.  The teacher across the hall is human.  Teachers across town are human.  We have lives, we have personalities but most of all, we have feelings.  So often those get lost in the mix when you are dealing with absolutely everything that is on a plate during a given school day.  I make mistakes and given the amount of decisions I make in a given day (or twenty minute time period), I think I am allowed to make a few of them.  But somewhere along the way, society has deemed that we have to be perfect.  The expectations are daunting and I say that as a perfectionist.  

There is not an off button.  My dislike or disdain for the statement that teachers get ALL summer off continues to grow each year.  Most of the time, I am not even able to completely turn it off for the 48 hour weekend.  The thoughts, plans, decisions, emails, paperwork and in my case little ones do not turn off when I walk out of the school building.  I do not get to leave the building and walk back in the next morning with an unfinished pile that is the same as the one I left the day before.  The pile always grows, usually exponentially.   One of the districts in the state was talking about only working "contract hours".  There just is not a way for me to be the kind of teacher that I want to be if I only work contract hours.  My pile sits stationary when I am with children.  The only time that I get to address my to do list is before school, during my plan (ha!), or after school.  I am saying this as a reality not as a complaint.  There's also this judgement as teachers are complainers when our world is just so drastically different than 95% of most jobs.  So when people are quick to say you get ALL summer off or (insert all those other breaks), the reality is there is just a teacher somewhere working without being paid.  There's also a huge difference in that being a choice instead of an expectation.

One day during our guidance lesson, I had been sitting with this little one rubbing his back and I had to get up to take care of something else and when I came back another little one had been taking care of it.

Class sizes.  Mainstream media wants to talk about how teachers are selfish because we are demanding raises but the part that is not being reported as widely is the restoration to education funding.  I feel so very fortunate to work for a district that over the 10 years has managed to budget wisely to help classroom teachers and children not be as restricted by the amount of cuts that the state has imposed on districts year after year.  And yet, here we are 10 years after the cuts began and last August as I prepared all my beginning of the year items for my littles long before I knew who they were or how many there were, I prepared for 30.  I knew I most likely would not have 30 but just a few short years ago, I would prepare for 25 and usually end up with 19 - 20.  This year when I got my class list and saw 25 names on the list I was devastated.  There are just so many things to process at the beginning of the year and I just immediately thought how in the world am I going to manage these little bodies, build a community with them, and give them everything they begin to need with 25 of them.  My classroom is in a newer part of my school building and six years ago when it was built, they included 24 cubbies for the littles to put their backpacks and belongings.  When the building was built, they probably never imagined 25 little people being put in the room (my district probably did not either).  

This is the biggest choice that I did not make.  After 126ish days with them in the classroom, I cannot imagine life without any of them.  We ended up starting with only 24 children, only. I gained my 25th in early October and had a little one move at Winter Break.  I currently have 24 little bodies that make up my community.  I cannot even tell you how we got to this point in the school year because sometimes I feel like the newborn mama that is not getting enough sleep.  Typically, I start my beginning of the year going to bed early and as the year progresses, I can build up my stamina by staying up later.  In October, I realized I was still sleeping like a beginning of the year school year and here it is March and the same is true.  I know that class size impacts learning but I directly feel how it has impacted me as a teacher this year.

Solving the world's problems: otherwise known as recess disputes

Last year, I ended the year with 23 students but ending with 23 and starting with 24 are two very different things.  I have sticks with student names on them for calling on, taking turns, etc.  Last year, they were arguing about who got to sit by me at morning and closing meeting, it was completely their idea to use the sticks.  I hated that we never got away from that and then this year, as they were struggling because they all wanted to sit next to me, the sticks just became the go to.  It's a simple instance of how something that really bothered me to no end last year about my classroom community was so easily accepted this year.  And yet, I just cannot begin to take ownership of it.  I find myself randomly not picking name sticks when I can slide it in and forcing them to live without it.  And somewhere along the way, through our talks of fair vs. equal, I have a couple of little ones who still take turns sitting in my lap at morning and closing meeting and it's so easily accepted by the other 22.  It is not even close to being fair but we have community.  These littles so deeply understand having grace and compassion for others, they are some of the best at forgiving and seeing the beauty in our differences and it still does not seem to be fair that they have to settle for name sticks.  

One day close to Winter Break, we were coming inside to begin our closing meeting before we ended the day and this year it has been a hard transition of getting to the carpet and sitting in a circle quickly so we can begin to share our favorite part of the day.  Not to mention, not talking when it is someone else's turn or getting up to blow your nose, go the bathroom, or just name a different distraction.  It was a random day when we were really struggling in my eyes and a WATCH Dog (male volunteer) comes into deliver a note about a child's transportation home and he asked how many children were in the class and I said 24.  He said, "well I teach a class at church this age and there are 4 helpers and we only have 10 kids."  It was a bittersweet compliment.  Here he is thinking about how we have it all together and I just know what it could look like.  

My heart: when a little one comes back to say hi or get a hug!

And when my mind goes there, it is not simply about what morning or closing meeting looks like but how as their teacher, I am faced with meeting their academic and social emotional needs.  No problem, right?  Except that with every little one, different needs present themselves.  There are years where I have had 18 little ones where I have not felt like I could adequately meet their needs but here I am juggling 24 dynamic little personalities with 24 different needs in reading, writing, (insert every academic standard or subject) and that's before you even get to the matters of the heart.  18 divided by 1 or 24 divided by 1?  Which gives you the smaller ratio.  Class size matters to all of it.  My mind continually pivots between knowing that the 24 littles in my room - deserve 110% and worrying that if I make that 110% look easy then I am inevitably allowing politicians to say it can be done.    And why, oh why, is that something that should be my concern?  So here we are, my morning drives filled with thoughts about how I just need my best for them and what that looks like for each of them. Because it looks differently for every single one of them and my heart is always divided in making the best decision for each of them.  

Somewhere along the way I took the load that the politicians and decision makers should have been carrying through budget cuts and revenue failures upon my shoulders through grant writing (thanks Donor's Choose), purchased school supplies, Christmas presents for little ones that will never know all while working at a school that has amazing district and PTA support.   There are just so many things going on behind the scenes that the public and politicians do not even begin to see.  Whether I chose education or it chose me, should not determine the type of working conditions that teachers are faced with.

About a month ago, as I was setting up the book I was about to read and telling the littles about their comprehension work that I wanted them to do during the read aloud, a little one interrupts and says, "Mrs. Pogue, how do you remember everything?" to which I smiled and he continued, "what you want us to learn, do, you know everything?"  It's those moments, that remind me why a profession that is laced with hard decisions is absolutely so easy to choose, even against all the hidden agendas, propaganda, and politicians.  If a five year old can sense and see how our lessons, days, and year is wound together with intention, why are some adults so hard to convince?

A student's free write after we finished interactive writing:  "Mrs. Pogue, this is you teaching us about vowels."  

I would love a little r-e-s-p-e-c-t and a pay raise would be amazing.  Teachers make HARD decisions all day long, day in and day out.  I believe that Oklahoma students deserve a state and a legislature to choose them just like educators have been doing over the last decade.  

"Good to know it's all a game, disappointment has a name, it's heartbreak warfare"

Truth & Teaching

Everyone wants to talk about teacher pay and raises, and that's fine and dandy but I'd also like to talk about the budget and revenue short falls.  Because do I think the teacher pay in Oklahoma matters, absolutely, but I also think the circumstances in which our state is asking us to teach matters too, if not more.  Those teacher shortages are related to pay but they are also related to the budget.  As I write this, I could not even begin to tell you the numbers and I do not know the answer either, maybe that's why I didn't last as an accounting major despite the number of business hours on my transcript upon graduation.  I do know my classroom though and for the last two years, I know the number of children in my classroom, 25.  

Same number of children but slightly different circumstances, last year I began the year with 22, built my little community and most of the time, we had 24 little learners. Six weeks out from the end of the year, we welcomed number 25.  Finishing the year with 25 is slightly different than starting with that many.

I spent the summer praying for little ones who I had yet to know names of and prepared for 30, fully expecting to be happy if my year began with 25.  We started with 24 and welcomed 25 just last week.  Before I continue, let me preface this to say as I write this, I cannot imagine room 29 without a single one of them.  They have big personalities and big emotions and we have so, so far to go before May but I love every single one of them and the community we are building.  I believe they are mine for a reason and I will work my tail off building a community that embraces all of them, our flaws and our strengths but all the while thinking the state is asking too much of me.  A state that has really high expectations for me as an educator while the people making decisions that directly impact my classroom and my students are failing everyone involved.

A picture of one of my favorite little ones, my youngest nephew exploring a dollie.  When I think about education in Oklahoma, class sizes, budget cuts, etc.  He is never far from the picture.  Every little one deserves a teacher who can carry the load that they are given in any year.  

Everyone has an opinion about class size.  Some wonder if it really matters.  Some might even say those really great teachers, it should not matter.  But here I am telling you from personal experience that it absolutely matters, it matters to them and it matters to me.  I have done this for 12.25 years and with a variety of needs and class sizes. When I look at this group, I cannot help but be disappointed for them, it's a lot for me (and someone somewhere is going to say here's just another teacher complaining) but it's a lot for them too. When I say wait, I mean it a bit more this year.  Just a couple of weeks ago, as my patience was stretched because every single one of them wants to sit by me at closing meeting and only two can, I had to be so honest with them.  "There just isn't enough of me." "Wouldn't it be nice if there was one Mrs. Pogue for every five of us?" "Forget that, how about one for each of us." Out of the mouth of babes, so we have resorted to pulling sticks for taking turns to sit by their teacher.  I have one little one who is still struggling with that and so I just broke down one day on the way home because it doesn't feel like I am meeting her needs or teaching her how to self regulate but at the same time, I am asking these littles for Grace for myself.  I didn't make choices that led us here, neither did my district but here we are.  Oklahoma, this one is yours. 

Here I sit with one of my tools to help the little ones wait is a picture of myself on a first...then task card.  It seems simple but...

I finished my assessment for the end of the nine weeks last week and so I know with all my experience through the years, I can juggle the academics. I don't know how but we'll get there. I can plan for the finish line so easily but the academics are not what scares me, it's the education of their hearts that really bothers me.  I'm always wanting more for all of them, for the ones who do not get it at home, for the ones that always sit quietly and wait patiently, and for this group who does not know this is normal.  Class size matters to every, single, one of them.  

I feel stretched beyond measure most days and have struggled with how to be my best so I can do my best for them. Here's another thing that really eats at my heart, this isn't my first rodeo. I worry about those first year teachers who haven't seen how much a little one can change and grow in one year because of the cultivation of a relationship with their teacher. 

In the teacher world, relationships with students and families is harped upon as being the biggest predictor of success. I know it, I believe it. I just don't know if I live and work in a state that does. A pay raise would be welcomed but a state that invests in it's children through it's budget and class size is also an investment that needs to be looked into. 

The days are long right now but sometimes on the hardest days you get love notes "I luf Ms. PK = I love Mrs. Pogue".  The teacher in me thanks how sweet for one minute then looks at all the phonetic things this note tells me about this child's development.  Three o'clock rolls around and while our contract time might expire, we're usually thinking about what's next for the little ones, 25 of them means that our minds are constantly thinking about how there are 25 personalities, 25 different literacy learners, 25 different mathematicians...and 25 different hearts and on and on.

I love picture books.  I am guilty of telling the little ones during a book introduction "this is one of my favorites" then later in the year they will call me on it by saying "you have so many favorites".  This year, one of the books we read was I Wish You More then we established our wishes for Kindergarten.  As I am helping the children in my class think about what their wishes (hopes and dreams) are for our year, I was thinking about my own - my wishes for this class and for education in Oklahoma.  I just wish for more...and I think every little one deserves someone who wishes that for them.  

"Not I!" Said...

I have been the worst blogger, both intentionally and unintentionally.  When the plate is full this is the first thing to be neglected and as week after week passed, my perfectionist self neglected it because of my imperfections.  A colleague encouraged me a little less than a week ago to get back on the saddle and write - so here goes.

At times, I shy away because I feel guilty that I do not know the number of every single house bill that affects education. In reality, I feel like the athletes who are blocking out the media before the big game. In my world, every day is a big game.

We are knee deep in the fourth quarter. I had a parent ask me today if I am ready for summer.  I said, "my body is but my heart not so much." She told me I could say yes and it would be okay.  But it is the absolute truth - I've been planting and sowing seeds since August and this time of year is when all these growth spurts happen and I am selfish and want to reap the benefits of all the behind scenes planting, watering, sunshine, and transplanting in some instances.

A little one that has struggled all year with emotional regulation and still needs me to prod him along on most of his work.  When we were working on plant labeling.  I said "tear the bag and put your dirt on the paper".  A few minutes later, he said, "there the dirt is on the paper."  Well played, it's all these moments that make the planting meaningful.  And yet, sometimes all the labors of love that go into one moment are lost in translation to everyone making decisions regarding planting.

They all grow immensely in different ways.  The ones whose growth is reflected in assessments, I worry about a little less.  The ones who I can tell you countless stories of things they can do now that they could not do in August or even January, I worry about them a little bit more.

We have been reading various versions of The Little Red Hen as we work on comparing and contrasting story elements and mapping them out.  We listened to Cook A Doodle Doo and made shortcakes. 

My littles blew me away with their connections far beyond the story content.  They were talking about the characteristics of the pig, dog, and cow (in most versions) and how they didn't want to be like them.  Others said, you know it reminds me of Cinderella because they made her do all the work which  led to a conversation about the difference between folk tales and fairy tales that was not in the plans.

I felt immense pressure to get this bread right the day after we had been heart broken about our chicks. Failure is hard for all of us but I take it hard. I have been thinking all week about the why's behind that - because I know they need to see me deal with things don't go my way - even the bigger things.  The daily mistakes I can model well but I have a hard time when my plan or vision is tested.

The girl who loves everything to be clean thinks that learning is messy. I knew at this point that the bread had not risen accordingly but followed through to see what would happen. I can pin point the mistakes we made - timing is everything and I put that yeast in when the mixture was still too warm because we had specials to get to on time.

Sometimes the end product is not always pretty but it's more about the content and the experience.  I am pretty sure the Pioneer Woman would have cringed at the sight of our rolls.  However, they were ours and we owned them.

The best part (and hardest part for my type A) of teaching is that I get to learn lessons or be reminded of lessons along the way.  As I mapped out my general plan of this unit of study, I got out the incubator after taking a year off due to a bad hatch two years ago mid a hard season of life.  I told myself it had to be better but began to really worry last week as day 21 approached and not a peep was heard. I called the source and they came out to candle the eggs which had stopped growing day 10.  On the way to work that morning, I had told myself I was done and that I had failed.  But when she asked if I wanted to try again, I found myself answering yes.  When I picked my class up from lunch and had to share with them about what had happened, I also told them about my change of heart.  One little one said, "because we don't give up" and in a nutshell that's why my perfectionist self who was a lot heart broken signed up for a second round that could very well have the same outcome.

At the end of the day, not everything that can be counted matters and not everything that matters can be counted.  If I am being honest, sometimes I feel just like that Little Red Hen. "Who will help me educate these children?" and my governor and legislature continually respond with actions that say "Not I!"

Politics and Perspective

About a month ago, I went for a routine dental cleaning.  My dental hygienist was out sick and the substitute was asking me all kinds of questions which is awkward since while you are sitting in the chair, you are not able to answer.  One of the first things she asked me was "did you watch the Presidential debate last night?"  My answer was as deliberate and intentional as my decision to not watch it.  No.  In my head, I thought that would end the conversation but politics are interesting nonetheless and the one sided conversation continued with some responses about my career.  I am not an on-the-spot thinker - I can process and over analyze situations after the fact so it's the worst when someone says "why on Earth would you want to be a teacher".  She is not the first person who has said it and she most likely will not be the last.  And here's one of the hard parts of teaching - you are always on.  So even when I am thinking carefully about how to respond to her words - I have to think first about the profession as a whole that I am representing.  How can I be respectful in my response to what I perceive to be a rude question?   

While I think the question stems from curiosity - what is the perspective of someone who is currently in the trenches - the wording and tone changes the conversation. I have reflected many times over in the last thirty days about what I would say if I was asked the question again or had a few hours to really answer the question.  When I responded "the kids" - it's a blanket answer that you just don't begin to understand the depth of unless you are living it.

Think about it in terms of making preparations for Thanksgiving dinner for your family and closest friends.  Of course, you have the main entree of turkey and sides of mashed potatoes, dressing, maybe green bean casserole.  But things get complicated when planning a menu because you have to think about the vegetarian and someone else who does not eat carbs.  What about the person who is allergic to nuts?  What do you do when you only have one oven and need to make sure that everything is heated and cooked appropriately before serving the meal?  What about when your favorite football team plays in the afternoon and they have a winning record this year?  And then there is seating...  I could go on and on.  The planning and preparation that goes into one holiday meal for your family and closest friends to an extent is what a classroom teacher does for every lesson, every day.  Sometimes, I get tired just thinking about the amount of decisions I make every day without hesitation that matter.  That's one of the hardest things - there is not much lee way for an overcooked turkey, mashed potatoes that are dry or seating the wrong family members next to each other.  Those simple mistakes in my world can detour learning from the most engaging lesson.

It's ironic that a question made in passing can stir so much emotion and thought, but it does.  My generic answer for my why might be kids.  However, those of us who are living it know that even that answer is not reflective of the work we do.  I have this little one who constantly needs her shoes tied - here's a teacher tid bit - Converse are the worst shoes to stayed tied even though they are precious on little feet.  This little one doesn't wear Converse and I was stumped.  I finally figured it out - the little one unties the shoes just so it creates an interaction when I have to tie them.  I have caught her in the act and she does not know it.  Why would I spend all day tying this little one's shoes - because there is so much more to the story - parts that I do know and parts that I might never know.  When you think of them all in terms of those moments - it sometimes breaks my heart that there is virtually not enough of me for all of them.  I think one of the reasons it stirs up so much emotion is because I know how hard teaching is - I know the hard work and I know how much heart work goes into it.

I love America!  My grandpa was a War World II Veteran that loved his country.  I would like to believe that his love of his country was inherently passed along.  Over the last year, America's behavior has been disheartening.  It is devastating to know you are spending your days trying to teach five and six year olds how to problem solve, resolve conflict and be kind and as a country we have not been able to do it.  Somewhere amid this political campaign, we went far off course.  As I was planning my lessons for this week through the topics of American symbols, my social studies standards, and naturally incorporating the democracy of every day life in - I found myself antsy about it all.  This time of year is supposed to be engaging and fun!  I was frustrated that I was preparing to deal with how the antics of adults could impact my classroom.  There were more than a few moments of processing how to keep my safe classroom community from it all.  I have this strong desire to teach them, build their background knowledge and to "keep them little" in all the ways that the world does not allow.  I  am sitting on the other side - and we did it.  I worried and walked this fine line of teaching my curriculum and engaging what was going on in their outside world, all while keeping them little.  I sent home a letter to families, hoped they would respect my decision to keep our conversations focused on the character traits of our book characters and only mention the candidates name during our school's mock election and after the fact as our President elect was named.  Last week, post Halloween and running on sugar highs, as I set the stage for it - they had a million questions about voting and who you could tell or why you could not share.  But then the conversation took another turn and a little one asked "how many Presidents are there" and I bit.  I said well, do you mean how many are alive or how many have we had.  And so the conversation went off in a direction that I never intended.  There was some intense on the spot thinking going on during that conversation - here's where you should really pay attention if you have ever said "oh, you just teach kindergarten".  After answering all their questions a little one said,  "Oh, Mrs. Pogue, you are better than Google." to which another one said, "it must be all those books she reads." I would tell you hanging out with littles throughout the last week has just reminded me about looking at life through their lens.  Adults could learn a lot about handling disappointment and everything life throws at you like my five and six year olds.

I am a list maker.  I always have a daily list of goals I want to get done during my planning, breaks, or after school.  I know it is ridiculous. Sometimes, I feel like my life is over managed but it is absolutely the only way to attempt at not dropping any balls.  Last week, I had Halloween and a Fall party on Monday and then parent teacher conferences spread throughout my evenings after a full day of teaching (so in addition to all the regular planning and preparation that goes into kindergarten) and one of my major assignments for my graduate class that I adjunct was due.  Somewhere in July, when I was planning for that course, I was not looking at my availability in my kindergarten world.  It's just the nature of the game - sometimes no matter how much planning and preparations are made, things collide and balls are dropped.  I am still learning how to have grace for myself even when the outside world does not.  One of my advanced readers has learned my trick of my to do list - so amid the struggles of last week, he is one of the first students to walk in and take care of all his morning routines and goes over to where I had my list and looks at it and says "so what all do you have planned for today?" and smiles at me. 

On Monday, one of my littles who struggles with his emotions was very upset with me after I had redirected his behavior in the middle of the hallway.  He was walking with me at the front of the line down the hall and was anything but happy about it.  I stopped the class and a little one from last year walks by and I say hello him.  He almost walked right by after saying hi but he stopped, glanced at me and came over and gave me a hug and we traded "I love you's" and the little one who was so angry with me said, "you love him too?"  It was a full circle moment - sometimes there are not enough of them but I swear that when they happen they carry more power than words could ever really explain.  

So when someone insults my college degrees, teaching experiences, and career choice with the tone of the question "why on Earth would you want to be a teacher" please know that when I respond with "the kids" there is so much more that I want to say beyond that simple answer.  I would love to answer that I think my heart is just a little bit bigger than yours because I am so busy trying to be the teacher that every little one deserves.  

Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can't Lose

It is the most wonderful time of the year - football season!  There is something to be said for new beginnings and fresh starts.  Almost two weeks ago, every college team got to start their season with a clean slate.  Football or (any sport or life in general) is so much more fun when you are "winning".  But what are the take aways when you are always behind?

My alma mater and team spent the majority of the time of their season opener dropping passes, getting penalized for mistakes they should not have been making, and just plain being outplayed.  High expectations are unbearable at times - most of the game I waddled back in forth in my mind between being absolutely frustrated that after off season preparations, this is the team I was looking at - a possible 4 (or more) loss season compared to a team that produces the opportunity to compete for championships.  One of the major downfalls of football fans (and sports fans alike) is that we are in the game of comparing this year's team to the one from last year.  My alma mater lost one game during the season, albeit, to our biggest rival and had the opportunity to compete in the college playoff.  There's no need to talk about their lackluster performance in said game!  In many ways, this year's team is already at a huge disadvantage because not only are the expectations high due to tradition but it has become the norm.   

Teachers are guilty of this too - we have the best intentions - but September is hard y'all.  Let's not kid ourselves, teaching is hard work despite the month of the year (well minus June and July) but the newness of September will make even us veterans wish for things of the past. We are thinking about the goal line when we are sitting on the 20 yard line in our own territory.

So some takeaways from starting the season with a 1 in the loss column...

This Is Not Last Year's Team - and teachers know it but inevitably our memories are of where we took the team in May.  It's the equivalent of only remembering the final score of the game and forgetting the important details that led to the score - the number of first downs, time of possession, turnovers, and more.  It is one of the reason that Kindergarten is so dear to my heart - I love the emotional and social development of a five and six year old as much as the academics.  In pregame talks, analysts will talk about the dynamics of a team by referring to the number of underclassmen and upperclassmen (in college).  At least in that instance, the new members of the team have the opportunity to learn the system from somewhere who has been there before.  In a classroom, it all falls on me.  What are the non negotiables for our classroom?  Every classroom teacher has to teach their class how to do school in their environment but in Kindergarten, most of the time the majority of the class is brand new to the whole experience of a full day of school.  This week, my little ones reached a huge milestone in our little world by reading from their book boxes for six minutes independently.  There's a million things I have not introduced this year - I felt especially behind this week but I know there is power in going slow.  However, it's hard when you know all the things at stake.  Time is always the enemy but there is power in knowing you have to teach each team the fundamentals of the game for there to be sustainable success.  

I thought about this during the game.  When the team that had a high preseason ranking simply because of their performance was not performing.  In reality, it is a completely different team and dynamics are different.  I am guilty of critiquing the players and coaches, is there a fan that isn't?  Essentially, my bar of reference is the team that lost to Clemson in December of 2015 and while there are some of the same players on the team, some of the major contributors are playing on Sundays now.  

We Are All In This Together - the beginning of the year is monumental.  There are so many feelings of inadequacy that creep in among the deadlines, to do lists, planning, and prep.  At the end of the day, I am teaching them the playbook in September.  Everything we do during these early days will guide our learning the rest of the year.  So on the days when I am completely exhausted and there's still a million more things to think about or do before tomorrow, I have to frame my mind around the plays that I have taught that they can carry out successfully or the plays I have taught that they are struggling with.  Those little things you teach them to do and reteach them to do (sometimes more than a few times) matter and are a game changer for the October days.  The team that you build within those classroom walls is only as strong as the weakest member as you move through the year. It's critical but it's exhausting, teaching the smallest little bodies to be in control of their own little world and not worry about everyone else's.  There are adults who cannot even do it.

Everyone wants to be a part of the "team" when you are winning and everyone wants to give their two cents when you lose.  And that is the difficult part of teaching - the criticism and the critiques from people who are not playing the game with you.  Everyone thinks they are an expert.  At the end of the day, life is all about perspective.  As I was watching my alma mater lose their season opener, perspective flooded my memory along with a few emotions.  Disappointment - I know that preseason rankings are ridiculous but why does my team always get ranked high coming into a season only to fall hard?  Frustration - what in the world did they do all off season?  Anger - why is the running game not more effective or why is the defense continually making ridiculous decisions and costly penalties?  But then...you think back to being a child growing up listening to this team on the radio because they were not legitimate enough to be televised and 5 win seasons were something to be aspired.  Twelve wins, not in a single season, but across three years and it suddenly makes you rethink the criticism and being content to enjoy the simplicity of just enjoying a winning season.  

Stay in Your Own Lane - this is hard for the little ones and it is even harder for some adults!  Littles are always worrying about what everyone else is doing so in a world where we are inundated with social media and people's highlight reels, it is so easy to get overwhelmed.  When your highly tauted football team loses their first game, it becomes the perfect time to focus on the importance of this sentiment.  There are just people out there who are rooting for someone else to lose instead of cheering for their own team to win - it's life.  It's a hard lesson for a type A people pleaser.  I have to continually remind myself to focus on the little things and the most important compass for anything in the classroom or teaching - those littles.  When someone asks about "why do you still teach?" I could probably share a story to warm your heart or one to make you laugh or go on and on about how I still get really excited to have a plan, carry it out, and watch them learn something because I facilitated their learning.  But at the end of the day, when there are an absurd amount of beginning of the year tasks eating you alive, you rely on your resume or your "strength of schedule".  

I have spent the last couple of weeks processing how my team must feel after starting the season .500 and with a big home game looming this weekend, the first one they have been an underdog in since 2000.  I am enough of a realist to just want to play well but I am crossing my fingers that maybe victory can be ours.  The glory of a championship cannot simply be found in one game, championships are won in the day to day details.  The fact of the matter is if you can't handle when your team loses, then you don't deserve to love them when they are winning.  

Wave On Wave

When I was in college, I loved to attend a good concert.  In fact, the cheaper the better.  Pat Green was a red dirt country artist who often hopped the Texas border and would end up in Oklahoma.  My brother and I, piled some friends in the car and headed North to the rival college town for a concert.  There's one major reason why this one concert sticks out in my mind from the multitude of others.  When we bought the tickets and made the plans, it sounded like a grand idea - the event landed on a Friday night so any papers that needed to be written or assignments to be completed could wait.  It was my last semester of college and packed with 21 hours of credits that I needed to graduate before student teaching.  I was managing the stress and expectations well.  As a part of the process of teaching, certification tests have to be scheduled in various semesters - my subject area one for early childhood education, happen to fall during that semester.  It also happened to fall on the morning after the concert.  I remember slightly having a panic attack when I figured the conflict out - I like my sleep and I need my sleep to function well.  If I remember correctly, my worry free friends told me there was nothing to worry about, "you'll do fine", they said without hesitation.  Somewhere in the midst of the conflict, I was under the assumption that the concert started much earlier than it actually did - I had the concert beginning at the time when the doors opened.  Long story short - we ended up in another town with nothing but time to kill and my bedtime essentially got pushed back.  I remember enjoying the concert (it was not the only time I saw him live) but my heart was so full of worry and anxiety over that certification test that I believe I might have enjoyed it more if I would have just taken a breath and lived in the moment.  I made it home, got very little sleep, stood in line for that certification test and got the highest score on it out of all the other ones I took.  

Even though the calendar says June (and it's a much later date than I would like), I find myself anxious about August.  My frame of reference for the worry and all the what if's jogs my memory to that mid November night where everything worked out just fine because I was ready.

Naturally there are seasons in the school year but there are also seasons not marked by the weather outside or the date on the calendar.  Every season has its strengths and down falls.  Right now, the only seasons on my mind are the beginning - August, September, and sometimes October, and the end - May.  This past year, May was harder than I remember which leads me to the anticipation of August.  Teachers spend all of June catching up on the sleep they missed in May and although it would be nice if we could bank sleep for August, it does not seem to matter how many hours we get in July, August steals it.  

At the beginning of the year, all children in room 29 care about is when it is time for lunch, recess, snack.  Band Aids and lotion solve the worlds problems.  Somewhere along the way, their self confidence blossoms, they do not stop talking, and your heart fills with joy when you notice all the little changes in their independence and personalities that came because of comfort, routine, and structure.  I know those changes did not occur overnight, but I am beyond guilty of celebrating my own participation in their growth.  

In the upcoming school year in Oklahoma, we are facing budget shortfalls and a revenue crisis across the board and one of the things that is receiving cuts is education.  It is not a "new" problem but now what has been talked about for years is finally going to hit home.  I am frustrated and disheartened with the leaders of the state and politicians who continually put education last but suddenly their decision making and poor leadership are directly going to affect all educators and kids.  Over the years as this has continued to be discussed and dissected, I have come to terms with the lack of direct control and worked on the areas that I directly have control over - room 29 through the relationships with children and their families.  

Last year, during one of our countdown days (over the last 10 days of school), we were going to tie dye some white t-shirts so I sat giving the class directions and was going to call them 1 - 2 at a time to dye their own shirt.  As I was giving the directions, we talked about patience, how it would take time for me to have time with everyone, all 19 of them.  Patience is beyond a virtue for five and six year olds - it is a work in progress throughout the year - to be able to get them to take turns and realize that I will not forget them whether it is on some project like this or even assessment!  They all want time with their teacher and they all deserve it.  As I was transitioning to the activity and gathering materials, a little one said, "Wouldn't it be nice if there were 19 of you?  One for each of us."  Ironic that little ones get the importance of class size while the politicians making the cuts will make excuses in August when the class sizes across the state are larger than any teacher, principal, or district would prefer because all of us know that class size matters.  

It matters so much - every child deserves to feel like their educational experience is tailored to fit them.  Families deserve that too.  Here's where the worry strikes.  I am just me - I think about the things I can do with 19 students vs. 27 students.  It is not just even how squished we are on the carpet or if I have enough cubbies for each one of them to hang their belongings.  It is about how just a few more students changes the entire playing field.  There's still very much only one of me - spread a little bit thinner.  Adding just a few more children adds a few more report cards to fill out, a few more emails from families, a few more copies, a few more reading assessments to give and a lot less time to interact with children and really get to know them - their learning styles, personalities, and families.  

I think that Pat Green concert keeps coming to mind because I really want to celebrate my moments in May a little bit more before I start thinking about the anxiety that August has to offer.  I really want my heart to enjoy the concert because I am prepared for the test.  

Kindergarten Recognition - Every little one had someone there for them.  

Thunder Thursday

ARR Matey!  You can tell a lot about a class about how the questions they ask, things they say thank you for, and things they remember.  They were excited about the jello and an orange slice, loved making pirate hats out of construction paper and when I told them they could wear an eye patch in the hallway you would have thought I told them it was gold.  During our scavenger hunt, they were full of excitement but the best part was when they were whispering to each other (because they were not supposed to be talking) in the hallway about things we had done earlier in the year.  "This makes me think of when we did the scavenger hunt on Dot Day."  "Remember when we did..."  And at the end of the scavenger hunt when all my go to teacher friends were in meetings or class and the red X was not in the hallway, they laughed at me rushing in the room to throw it in the hallway for the other kindergarten classes and said thank you for the hard work.

"If you give an inch, they'll take a mile"... I think of this in the early days when I am consistent, firm, and setting boundaries but on those last days, I am all about breaking the rules within reason.  On pancake and pajama day, we were tallying which type of pancake they wanted for snack that afternoon.  Several little ones said "but I need to try both to see which one I like best".  So without hesitation, we added both to the chart.

Another moment where you would have thought I gave them gold, "I get to pour my own syrup?!"  

I love Mexican food.  I stole this idea from a teammate.  She had used "Taco 'Bout Our Year" last year.  The morning of this Taco Tuesday as I was prepping the chart paper, I just threw Lettuce on there as a whim.  They were so excited about this day that during morning meeting one of my little ones said "oh, I get it..lettuce like let us".  We filled up 2 pieces of chart paper with all their ideas and some of them wrote about ones that were not included.  My favorite part is that all their memories were without prompting.  The only thing I said they could not write about was recess or lunch.  It had to be about things our class did.

Families are amazing support systems in so many different ways.  In this instance, they provided all the ingredients including chips, salsa, and queso.  In the earlier days of the countdown, when we were talking about all the days and Taco Tuesday was mentioned and a little one said, "are we having chips and queso?"  How can the girl that loves Mexican food deny them of that!  Then a little one asked for sour cream because she likes them on her tacos.  At the end of the year, ask and you shall receive.

Last day sidewalk chart art by a student.  "You know Mrs. Pogue, I won't see you this summer but I'll keep you in my heart."

I keep thinking about a little one who pushed my limits during the month of May.  I was told several times during the month "I am so ready for first grade" among other comments.  Right before our last dismissal on the last day, he looks at me and says "I changed my mind about first grade.  I'll just stay with you."  The same little one came up to me at a tball game a few weeks ago after the game and said "did you know I have cried every night since school was out thinking about you and first grade?"  And then there's the little one that challenged me by crawling under tables at the beginning of the year and told me more "no" times than I can count whispering in the hallway, "I am just gonna miss you so, so much".  

I just keep thinking about the Starfish Story.  Last year, it mattered to all 19 of them.  The verdict is out about how many little ones it will matter to in the upcoming year.