Hay Fever

The students and I walk through the soccer fields on our way to the garden.

On the fields are tufts of beige, dead grass, slightly resembling hay.

As we walk to the garden I hear a voice behind me. “Ms. H. Why is there so much hate?”

I turn around and see little *Emilio.

Wow. I think in my head. This will be a great teaching moment to talk about being a peacemaker in our community.

I turn to Emilio and start explaining how the world is a beautiful place, but sometimes people do bad things. I explain that that’s why it’s important to become a peacemaker in our community.

I stop.

Emilio and the rest of the children have dazed and confused looks on their faces.

I’m not sure if the peacemaker concept has made any sense, so I begin to think of other ways to explain when *Emily shouts “NOOO. Not hate Ms. H. hay. Why is there so much hay on the fields.”

Immediately I burst into laughter. I’m confusing the children to think that somehow hay correlates to people doing bad things.

Ah well. It’s the funny mistakes/moments that make this “field” so entertaining.

It's hard to say goodbye

I knew *Ricky was unique the moment I met him. As the school days progressed, it became apparent to Tillie and I that Ricky was on a different level than the rest of the class. He cannot speak, nor write. We finally learned that he had brain swelling as a baby and should be transferred to a different school, one that could better assist him.

But what Ricky lacks intellectually, he makes up for expressively. He is truly incredible, affectionate, inquisitive, and friendly. His smile melts your heart. He loves the human contact of his peers, constantly observing them, touching them, learning from them.

Today, I watched as Ricky squeezed little *Jenny so tight that her face turned red. “Ms. H!!! Riccky squeezed me so hard, it hurt my face!”

I explain that Ricky wants to be friends with everyone and loves giving hugs. “You can show him, Jenny, how to give gentle hugs.” I observe as Jenny gently hugs Ricky, his face beaming. Suddenly, other students join to the hug, until it is a giant pile of hugs. Everyone is laughing.

They all support Ricky so well. I’m so impressed by their compassion. And I hope he can experience this type of community the rest of his life.

It will be hard to say goodbye to that incredible boy.

The Garden

The sun shines down on a flawlessly warm summer day. The children, 1^st graders, are out in the garden.

What can we observe?

What do we see, smell, hear, taste, and feel?

I watch in amazement as students gaze at sunflowers, vegetables, bugs, and dirt. They ask questions, they are engaged, they are learning.

“Hey Ms. H, look at THIS!” Little *Adam who has a difficult time focusing, sitting still, and listening stretches out his hand and holds out a rolly polly. For the moment, he is completely engaged in explorative learning- opening up his mind to the world around him.

All of the children in Mrs. Uribe’s class for the moment are unfastened. They are marveling at the earth. They explore growth and changes, just as they themselves are growing and changing.

And I can’t help but feel that I am apart of something vibrant and idiosyncratic. I am able to witness the garden, where children are authentically learning.

From them, my grace grows

Grace- “to live in elegance or beauty of form, manner, motion, or action.”

        Every time I enter the classroom, I am filled with grace.

                                       The children are beautiful.

        They come in vibrant packages, containing inimitable funds of knowledge and culture. When they learn, it is elegant. The students demonstrate erudition of creativity, imagination, and energy.

        Sometimes, I am overwhelmed by the feeling of grace. I am graced to be in their presence.
       Each day is wondrous. Every new word acquired, every friendly gesture expressed, every concept mastered. To witness and be a part of their journey is indescribable.

       And so from them, my grace grows….

My Class

A was and a will be...

I’ve taken all the classes. Done all of the assignments. Passed all the tests.

Yet everything becomes so different when I see a student walk through my classroom door, for the very first time. 

And I know that that there will now be a before and an after, a was and a will be. And that I will never again be quite the person I was.

I run

        It is the night before school starts. I have just gotten home from an eventful back to school night where I met my 22 students and their families.

        Tomorrow is a big day, and I need to clear my head.  I hop in my car and head up Emigration Canyon. Stepping out of my car, I am greeted by a refreshing summer night air.

And up the trail I run.

I run for them. My 22 students.

          My heart is pounding and I run for them. Up through tall Kentucky bluegrass. Casiopia, polaris, and the big dipper hang in the sky above me.

          It’s dark. The sound of crickets fills the silence. And suddenly, the present moment becomes overwhelming. My thoughts go to them- twenty-two students that will enter my classroom tomorrow. A Bosnian refugee, a shy Hispanic English language learner, a student who has been retained twice and has an IEP. I run for their struggles, for the inequalities they will face throughout their lifetime. I run for their successes, for their failures, for their triumphs, for their past and for their future.

          My legs are tired, my lungs feel tight. I am exhausted. Yet… I think of them, and I feel full.  

          I run for those who can’t, I run for a brighter tomorrow, for things that will come and things that are.

          I run.

 And the stars…they are above me. They are the things we share.

                                                      I'm ready for tomorrow.

'Oh come the morning'

It’s a sun-drenched morning in late August. I rise out of bed, earlier than normal, and fix myself a kettle of tea. Rummaging through my closet, I pick out an outfit as cheery as my disposition and head to school.

The time is 7:56 a.m. 

I sit outside Escalante Elementary. The school sign in front of me reads “Escalante Elementary- Exploring Our World”. I’ve stepped into a new realm- no longer student, but a teacher. 

What will await me in the adventures ahead? On Wednesday, I have 22 young minds that will step into my world.

Approaching that day I wonder….

How will we influence each other? What will we learn together? How will we grow?

Escalante

1810 west, 900 north. These are the coordinates of a school.

Turning off Redwood road, you see the building. An ash gray brick covers the exterior with a lego like geometrical structure hanging over the entrance way and a sign reading “Escalante Elementary Elementary- Exploring Our World.” An American flag flaps gently in the wind, while the majestic Wasatch mountain range sit solemnly to the east of its walls. But what first appears to be a normal school, soon turns into a vibrant and thriving community once stepping inside.

Completed and opened in 2002, Escalante has a unique staff that emphasizes creativity and exploration. There are 20 languages spoken by the students and families within the Escalante community. The diverse cultures and languages of the community come together to form a distinctive learning environment that sets itself apart from other schools.

As a Title 1 school, 97% of students are eligible for free or reduced breakfast and lunch. Escalante strives to strengthen its program to meet the needs of all of their students with the federal support of Title 1 funds.

What strikes me about this school is their outdoor classroom which allows students to have their own gardens, explore wetlands, and observe different types of plants and animals.

I’m fortunate to be working in a school that respects and recognizes diversity, encourages exploration, and promotes excellence through creativity. 

Sunlight

Sunlight is strong, prevailing, and warm. But at the same time, it is gentle, comforting, and giving.

If sunlight could be captured in a person, it would be Tillie.

Her teaching is an art. It is natural, but at the same time bold.

Both personally and professionally I look up to her.

Tillie won the Presidential Award for Excellence in Mathematics and Science Teaching, traveled to Washington D.C., and met President Obama. She was recognized for her integration of science within the classroom. (click to read article) http://www.deseretnews.com/article/705372477/Salt-Lake-Logan-women-earn-prestigious-national-teaching-awards.html

A single mother of four, Tillie is the hardest working person I have ever met. But in talking with her, you would assume she doesn't have a stress in the world. Her spirit is so carefree and light. And it is this characteristic that draws in young minds the moment they walk through the door.

I have already learned so much and cannot wait to see what I will continue to learn from this incredible woman. I couldn’t have asked for a better mentor teacher to guide and encourage me.

To Teach

“All the great humans have been as I am now, and there is nothing I can’t do; there is no country in the world I cannot make part of myself, if I choose, I contain the world. I can make of it what I want. If I choose, I can change everything that is going to happen: it depends on me, and what I decide now.”

           This passage from Doris Lessings short story, Sunrise on the Veld, captures the essence of inquiry, passion, and adventure of young learners. I believe that education should embody these same qualities in order to create dynamic classroom environments that allow students to construct knowledge and grow through their own experiences.

            It is my conviction that education is the marrow of life. The acts of discovering, exploring, and learning are fundamental components of our humanity, ones that must be supported, nurtured, and encouraged within the classroom. My vision is that schools will act as a microcosm of the world, places that students can come discover, understand, and thrive. 

           I believe my philosophy of teaching and learning will help me direct students to capture their own essence of inquiry, passion, and adventure. When students enter into a classroom, their journey of education begins, but it does not end when they leave it. As a mentor and a guide, I will help students become autonomous individuals that experience learning in the present and crave learning for their future.