I just closed my eyes and now it is time to start all over again. The morning shower is about the only time I am going to have today with a little silence. That moment of peace is my chance to brace for the day. The problem is that in my moment of peace I can’t take my mind off of my kids who are struggling. I can’t stop thinking about the things I should have done to make learning a little easier.
I woke this morning to news that Russia and the new Ukraine government are in a political standoff with military options mobilizing. There was also news of another major storm that has temperatures as far south as Austin in the 30s heading east and picking up steam and looking like it will slam the east coast again. Then there was the appalling news of a school in Nigeria where terrorist had killed a schoolyard full of children and burned their bodies in some twisted attention grab in the name of a twisted view of their religion. The news went on and on with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. I watched and read and listened to a litany of events that should make a grown man seek refuge. But one horrible story gave way to another, and the incredible news of the Nigerian tragedy faded from the television screen and a smiling anchorman talking about a rampant pack of Chihuahuas in Arizona segued into a story of absolute silliness. Those dead children were worth a 20 second mention – about the same as a pack of ankle biting dogs.
Louis Armstrong sang “What a Wonderful World” in 1967. In that beautiful song he opines and laments, “I think to myself, what a wonderful world”. His world in 1967 was a world that saw a 10,000 person march in San Francisco against the Vietnam War while more than 11,000 American soldiers died. It was the year Jim Garrison claimed a conspiracy theory in the death of President John F. Kennedy. It was the year Fidel Castro absconded all intellectual property in Cuba. Israel was in the midst of a 6-Day War with Syria, Jordan, and Egypt. A prison riot in Florida left 23 dead, and an explosion on the USS Forrestal left 134 dead.
Tell them you love them.
Hug them.
Sit and talk to them. Show real interest in them.
Set them up to succeed. Find something they can do and praise them for it!
Step in and help. Let them see you as being there for them.
Make sure they know that home is safe. Home is shelter. Home is absolute.
MAKE YOUR CHILD FEEL SPECIAL!
Do you remember your first day of school? It has been nearly 40 years for me, but I still remember my mom walking me to school on my first day of kindergarten in Hobbs, New Mexico. I remember her holding my hand tightly as we crossed the street. I remember her telling me that it was going to be great and that I was going to learn so much. I remember walking across the schoolyard playground where I had spent many afternoons, but somehow it was different today. I remember opening the school door and smelling the remnants of the school breakfast coupled with the smell of cleaners. The hallway floors were brighter that morning than they would be for the next 9 months. I remember mom walking me to my classroom and helping me find my desk.
There aren’t many jobs that can match that of an educator for sheer workload. Whether an administrator, teacher, clinician, or support staff – being an educator means you are going to have an extremely hectic day, and tomorrow it will always start all over again. Educators do not have the luxury of completing a task and then stopping, resting and basking in the glory of a job well done. For an educator, when a task is complete you move directly on to the next one, because there is about to be a room full of students sitting and staring at you– waiting to hear and see what is next.
Between the 24/7 availability of news and the headline hunters that constantly chase, and sometimes even create, new stories it is hard to get to amped up when you see a “Breaking News” banner scroll across the screen. Yesterday was different. When news of Robin Williams death scrolled across the television I was not only shocked, I was numbed.
Classroom behaviors are like a snowball. In the beginning they will likely start off as something small. There will be a student who talks when he shouldn’t. There will be a student who acts mad and defiant when told to do something. Soon there will be a student who argues with his teacher. Next, there will be students arguing with each other. Before you know it, the classroom has descended into a downhill roll and the snowball is gaining steam– getting larger each passing week.
27 years ago my family adopted my youngest sister. She came to us 3 weeks before I left for college. I will never forget the day that mom and dad drove home from picking her up. My whole family was there to greet her. Mema and Papa and all of the aunts and uncles welcomed her into our family just as if she had been born into it. From the first moment I saw her and held her I knew she was my sister, and immediately I forged a bond with her that stands strong to this day. We are both parents now and her little boy stays with me and my family every Saturday night, and he is one of my most beloved family members.
The day a baby is born is one of the happiest days of most people’s lives. Months of anticipation and hope coupled with hours of fear and pain culminates in the arrival of a precious baby. This tiny human is a Tabula Rasa, clean slate. In this child rests the future for mom and dad. This child is guiltless and unencumbered with pride or envy or anger. This child is wholly dependent on its parents yet it is a living breathing sentient being. This child represents every opportunity and dream that life offers.
When my oldest daughter was little, she didn’t like it when I watched the news because she thought it was boring. The 24 hour news onslaught was just beginning on cable and internet news was one of those things that people said was coming, but I wasn’t sure how. 18 years ago you would turn on one of the “Big 3” networks and watch the national news and then follow that up with the local news. That is how it was delivered, and that was what every responsible adult did. My daughter hated it because it was boring.
When Dorothy was told to “follow the yellow brick road” it was a very intentional set of instructions. Sure it was also a good excuse for another goofy song sung by the munchkins, but it was told to her in order to get her to the wizard. It was also to keep her safe from the dangers of the woods – “lions & tigers & bears – oh my!” That yellow brick road was there to guide her and get her where she needed to be, and to keep her away from the places she shouldn’t be. The yellow brick road that L. Frank Baum prescribed to Dorothy was his metaphor for Dorothy’s instructions for life. It was her second chance, because before she flew over that rainbow she hadn’t done a very good job of staying on the road prescribed by her Uncle Henry and Auntie Em. Remember before the tornado came Dorothy was stealing away with Toto trying to avoid Mrs. Gulch and her vengeful intent on Toto.
Social and emotional skills are common sense skills and common sense isn’t always common. It needs to be taught, both at home and in schools.
There are times when I am working and I need an emotional lift. I need to laugh or smile or just to see or hear something that makes me feel good. Have you ever been there? Sitting at your desk or driving in your car and you just want something or someone to make you smile?
It is so hard to believe that Thanksgiving is upon us. Even though the weather turned cold and the days have definitely gotten shorter, it just hasn’t quite felt like the holiday season yet. But I am not worried. Between long-basting a ham and the smell of stuffing and turkey and pies and the sound of football and family – the holidays are almost here.
Poliomyelitis is a disease that held a reign of terror over this nation for many years. An American president was crippled by polio. The original March of Dimes was organized to combat this terrible affliction and to help care for its victims. And if you were born before 1955, you likely recall the fear created by the presence of this horrible disease that crippled thousands of once active, healthy children. Or perhaps you remember the images of children in iron lungs.
There are many issues besides depression that teachers need to be aware of as the holidays approach. Did you know that besides depression – eating disorders, shoplifting, fatigue, overt aggression, sexual acting out, and other extreme behaviors increase amongst many kids during the holidays? We have to ask two questions: why and what do we do about it?
How do we combat a pop-culture that is predicated on an immediacy of gratification and an assignment of self-worth that is based more on style than substance?
There aren’t many sensory reminders that rush you back to your childhood days quite like the smell of fresh cut grass. I was at my son’s baseball game the other day, and as I sat there, hotdog in hand, listening to the sound of a ball hitting a bat, and smelling the fresh cut grass – I could have been 12 again. I remember the absolute thrill of counting down those last weeks of school and how days seemed to alternate between flying by and moving at a slow crawl. I remember sitting at my school desk and daydreaming about all of the fun of summer. There would be swimming and cookouts and baseball and friends and staying up late and sleeping in. There were many days my body was sitting at that desk but my heart, mind, and spirit were running through some field chasing my dog.
There are few things I love more than watching my kids get excited about Christmas. They love the cold weather (relatively cold – I live in Texas). They love the time off and sleeping in and bright lights and family getting together and special services at church and yes, they love presents! My kids are very lucky. They have a mom and dad at home who are employed and committed to their family. They have sense of security that a lot of kids don’t have this holiday season.
It is so hard to believe that Thanksgiving is upon us. Even though the weather turned cold and the days have definitely gotten shorter, it just hasn’t quite felt like the holiday season yet. But I am not worried. Between long-basting a ham and the smell of stuffing and turkey and pies and the sound of football and family – the holidays are almost here.
By Jay Burcham How do we combat a pop-culture that is predicated on an immediacy of gratification and an assignment of...