Brave...

This post started out several weeks ago as an update on another website. I thought about leaving it at that, but I kept having the feeling that I should share it here as well - in a modified form - though I'm not really sure why.
So, for those few of you who may have read portions of this already, I apologize...

I've been thinking lately of some of the conversations Jason and I had when he would come and visit. More than once he told me how brave he thought I was for moving to and teaching in the town where I live without the benefit of having a huge support base. I always told him that I didn't know how brave I was... but he insisted that it was true - that I was indeed brave. He said that he wasn't sure he could have done it. I had a hard time picturing that because he always seemed so confident and self-assured. And here I was thinking that HE was the brave one moving to Utah the way that he did...and that I wasn't sure I could have done it... lol... In fact, I was pretty positive I couldn't. Come to think of it, though, I'm not sure I ever told him that...
(In many ways, I suppose, this was just another illustration of the fact that there are so many things that we do not and cannot know about what goes on in the hearts and minds of others. And because we are finite creatures with limited knowledge it is not our job to judge - for good or bad. We cannot know all of their triumphs, strengths, trials, weaknesses, and worries. It IS our job to uplift and support one another along the way...)

I can tell you this now - though I may not always feel brave - his words to me made me WANT to be brave...

They made me want to try a few new things, to put myself out there more and to try to make new connections with others - which is difficult for me.  I seem to lack that skill that Jason seemed to have down to a fine art. (I know he probably made it look easier than it was - even for him. That was another thing he was good at - making difficult things look simple. He never let on when things were hard for him, though I wish now that he would have been able to do that more.) Written words seem to come easier for me than spoken ones sometimes... perhaps the fear of rejection is less...  but through Jason's friendship, and that of other good and dear friends - (Thank you, John and Allisha) - I am trying to get over my reticence and in the trying have met some very wonderful new people who accepted me as I was shyness, quirkiness, and all - just like Jason did... (Thank you, Gerb, Rachel, and Shawna.) I don't honestly think he had any clue how much he influenced me - and others - in that way. It feels good to have people accept you where you are at while encouraging you to live up to your potential.

I have to admit that my bravery and confidence have taken a little blow in the past while, but as time goes on I am confident it will return little by little as I push past my doubts and fears. I am determined to keep meeting new people, making new friends, and trying new things...

So, thanks for having confidence in me, my friend, for helping me try to find the courage to attempt to be "Fearless"...

and to try and "Touch the Sky"...

And, lest anyone fear that I have set my friend upon too high of a pedestal, rest assured that I understand that he - like the rest of us - was not perfect. He had his struggles and weaknesses, as well as his triumphs and strengths. Isn't that true about each of us? That does not diminish the impact he had on the lives of those who knew him.

If anything it makes it even more impressive.

*For those who are interested, here are the lyrics to both songs that I shared. I think there is a powerful message in both of them.

Fearless – by Pandorum

Walking in a straight line

Don’t give up tonight

And all your fears combined

There’s no need to hide

Don’t you run away

You will find your way

Deep inside

And I will fight for you

If you want me to

Tonight

Then a light brightens up the dark

And gives you the hope

To fight again

And you won’t stand

On your own

Just take a breath within

You’re not alone

You are not alone

You are not alone

You are not alone anymore

One voice alone

Is one heart that’s strong

Will get you through

Two steps in front

Is three times the love

You’ll never fall

Then a light brightens up the dark

And gives you the hope

To fight again

And you won’t stand

On your own

Just take a breath within

You’re not alone

So open your eyes

Take your wings for a ride

And don’t look down

All the hurting inside

Is just pain that subsides

You can only try

We can try

We can try

Then a light brightens up the dark

And gives you the hope

To fight again

And you won’t stand

On your own

Just take a breath within

You’re not alone

Say goodbye

No more fears

You feel inside

Say goodbye

You know its time

To live your life

Touch the Sky - Julie Fowlis 

(Disney/Pixar's Brave Soundtrack)

When cold wind is a calling 

And the sky is clear and bright,

Misty mountains sing and beckon me 

Lead me out into the night. 

I will ride, I will fly

Chase the wind and touch the sky. 

I will fly, chase the wind and touch the sky. 

Where dark roots hide secrets

And mountains are fierce and bold. 

Deep waters hold reflections 

Of times lost long ago. 

I will hear their e’ry story 

Take hold of my own dreams

Be as strong as the seas are stormy, 

And proud as an eagle’s scream.

I will ride, I will fly

Chase the wind and touch the sky. 

I will fly, chase the wind and touch the sky. 

Melon Madness.... Life Through My Lens

This same time every year in the humble hamlet where I live a certain kind of madness sets in...

Melon Madness...

Photograph by Backroads Photography (August 2011) - Thanks, Jason...

I thought I'd share a few moments from this year's Melon Days celebration....
(Thanks to the H's for letting me join in the fun with them.)

Friendship...

The events of the past few weeks have been a poignant reminder to me not to leave things unsaid. They have also been a reminder of the value of true friends both old and new. While I imagine many of us have wonderful friends, do we take the time to let them know we feel that way? Do we make the effort to give voice to the feelings of our hearts?

We may think that those around us know that we care and that we don't need to say the words. Perhaps we aren't comfortable in expressing our feelings through words and simply hope that actions suffice. Perhaps we take for granted that the words have been spoken and need not be repeated. Whatever the reason we often lose opportunities to let others know how we feel.

If there is anything that I have learned from the experiences of the last several weeks it is that we need to tell those for whom we care how we feel - and often - because we never know when it will be too late. We never know what difference a few words coupled with action can make in someone's life.

It is in that light this post was born.

The past few years I have come in contact with wonderful people in the town where I live and have developed friendships with many of them.

Yet, there are a few who have gone above and beyond the call of ordinary friendship. To those people I say a deep and heartfelt thank you even though that doesn't seem to be enough. You cannot know how I treasure the kindness and compassion you show me on a continual basis. Your support and care help sustain me through difficult times and your fun and laughter make good days into great ones. Whether "Nanny McD" or "Auntie M" or simply "Ms. D" your acceptance of me into your lives is a true blessing. Your encouragement and acknowledgement of my strengths - even when I may not see them myself uplifts me and your acceptance of my weaknesses and foibles while still encouraging me to grow and change and improve makes me a better person. I only hope that I can be the kind of friend to you that you are to me.

So thank you...
      for laughing at silly jokes...
      for lifting when I fall...
      for inviting me into your family...
      for encouraging, and cajoling, and uplifting...
      for simply being who you are...

Thanks....

Life Through My Lens - Take me out to the ballgame...

Take me out with the crowd...

On Saturday I attended a Little League baseball game that my friends' children were playing in. We decided since the game had such a late start we would all pitch in and have a simple barbecue at the ball field before the game began. Here are a few shots of our little gathering. It made me smile.

(Quick disclosure - I know the photos aren't the best, but they captured the mood and fun of the evening.)

I think a fun time was had by all.

(Sadly our team lost... better luck next time.)

Life Through My Lens - Shadows...

Friendship is the shadow of the evening, which increases with the setting sun of life.

 - Jean de La Fontaine

I am fortunate to have been blessed with good friends who share their lives with me. Thanks for being an influence in my life for good.

Off the beaten path...

DATELINE - Rio Verde - 

It was a dark and stormy night when the intrepid explorers began their arduous journey...

Well, okay...

Actually it was a beautifully sunny day when we started out on what Gilligan might have called a "three-hour tour." Allisha had gone to Springville with a friend and fellow Bountiful Basket site coordinator to meet with one of the creators of Bountiful Baskets. It was mid-afternoon when the rest of us loaded up Mr. Z's Santa Fe with a few snacks, some water, six children, three adults, and a hankering for adventure.

John, Allisha, and their family had been introduced by his parents to a small geyser on what (according to Google Earth) is known as Chaffin Ranch near the San Rafael River.  It was decided that we would take a short jaunt out to visit in the hopes of seeing it go off. 

The trip to the geyser on the washboard dirt road, past Lake Stinky Muddy Water (aka Horse Bench Reservoir), and a memorial to a fallen townsmen added to the sense of adventure and the kids were eager to show the two newcomers - Mr. Z, and me - all there was to explore...

    - The geyser with its red-gold mineral deposits sloping away in undulating layers...

    - The classic cars which housed memories of "far away places with strange sounding names" but were now sitting, neglected and forlorn waiting to be given a second chance...

    - The cistern that once fed water to the ranch...

    - The demolished rubble that marked the spot where a house once stood...

When the intrepid adventurers (i.e. our awesome selves) were finished exploring the area we piled back in the Santa Fe to head elsewhere. It seemed too early to head back, so - having seen a truck pass by - Mr. Z.  decided to follow in the general direction it took, just to see where the road might lead. And where it led was into an unexpected adventure.

As we traveled on the unknown path there were several branches leading in different directions at various points along the road. Sometimes our fearless driver (Mr. Z.) would "choose the right", but more often we would take the left path because - as he said - "Choosing the left is more adventurous."

After we had been driving for several minutes we came to several sandy spots on a downhill incline that made it a little more difficult to drive. We were now at the "point of no return." John, Mr. Z. and I felt that we would have a difficult time making it back up the hill, so we would instead press forward, hoping that the road would eventually wind back around. Unfortunately, as we neared the banks of the Green River the sand became deeper and eventually we became stuck.  With a little - ok, A LOT - of effort from Mr. Z, John, and Ian - his eldest man-cub pushing, and me at the wheel trying to steer us, we eventually got out of the first sand trap that caught us. We continued moving forward a few more yards until were were stopped again. This time no amount of effort on our parts would free us. We gathered boards, branches, brush - anything to give us traction, but to no avail. Upon looking underneath the car it became glaringly apparent why we weren't going anywhere. The sand was clear up to the undercarriage of the car and the wheels were just digging it down deeper with each effort.

Mr. Z. was horrified that we had gotten stuck and kept apologizing to John. Still, I have to note here that despite the situation there was no major panic on the part of any of those involved. Most of the kids, and even the three adults, considered it all part of an adventure - perhaps one we hadn't consciously chosen - but an adventure nonetheless. (A few prayers - both silent and spoken - I'm sure helped.)

A satellite view of our trek.
My thanks to Google Earth for helping me to figure out where we were

After trying unsuccessfully to get out, we decided that we would try to call John's parents for help. At our current location, however, we had no service. Mr. Z. and I took John's phone and my phone and walked a bit to see if we could find a signal. About a thousand feet from where the car was - across the river from Ruby Ranch - we found one. (Go Verizon!) There was only one bar of service on my phone but we decided we would attempt the call anyway. We waited with baited breath to see if the call would go through. It rang once, twice, and then the call was.... answered. We breathed a sigh of relief as Mr. Z. began to relay our situation to John's dad who chuckled a bit at the news. After giving our coordinates - Mr. Z.'s reliable Tom-Tom provided them for us along with an estimate of how long it would take us to walk out if that were necessary (29 miles and 7 1/2 hours just in case you were wondering) - he asked if they would bring some snacks and water for the kids as they were getting tired and little hungry. We walked back to let John and the kids know that we had made contact and that our rescue party was on its way. The news was met with much relief by our intrepid crew.

A closer view of where the sandman got us.

At this point we thought the best course of action was for a couple of us to start walking back along the road to meet John's parents and the rest would stay with the car and wait. Mr. Z. had a DVD player and a movie in his Santa Fe and he set it up for those remaining behind. Then Mr. Z, Micah - John's son, and I headed back up the road to meet our rescuers. About 45 minutes later we saw a cloud of dust and headlights in the distance coming towards us and knew that help had arrived. As they stopped to let us in John's mom asked Mr. Z. what kind of a car he drove. When he answered that he drove a Santa Fe, she told him he needed to get a Chevy because they don't get stuck. We all had a laugh and then guided them down to where the car was and found everyone still safe and sound, but definitely ready to be home. Eventually they were able to pull the Santa Fe out of the sand, get it turned around and heading in the right direction. We made a mighty run up the sandy hill and made it to the top.

The rest of the journey was fairly uneventful. We wound our way back along the dirt track and eventually to John's home where everyone dined on cereal and toast for a late supper. It was a pleasant end to our adventure. When Allisha arrived home we told her what had happened and she just shook her head and laughed at the "three musketeers."

Now, some of you might think that the day was a loss.

I would have to respectfully disagree. 

While we did not know when we set out what the day would bring, it ended up being a fun day spent in the company of good friends that will not be easily forgotten. (I only wish Allisha would have been able to be with us.) It was also a day spent in the rugged beauty that surrounds our home.

And that, dear reader, is the end of our tale.... or at least this version of events.

Two other perspectives on this experience can be found  here and here. 

What would I do?

I started writing this blog post several weeks ago after watching what was going on in the nation and in my state as well as others regarding public education. I then saved it intending to get back to it a little bit later that day. Instead other things intervened, as they often do in life, and the post was pushed to the back of my consciousness - never completely out of mind - but not at the forefront either.

Last weekend during a conversation with a friend who is also a teacher, we talked about what we would do if we weren't in the education profession any longer.  I made a somewhat facetious remark that I'd love to own a bookstore so I could read all the books. It was the second time in as many days that a friend and fellow educator brought up that question and the idea of this post resurfaced. My friend made a statement something to the effect that having been in education as long has he had, he wasn't sure what he would do. I had a similar thought. I have spent so much of my life either in this profession, or preparing for it - quite literally half of my life if I consider my schooling - that it is a conundrum for which I have no clear answer. Again, I dusted off this post and worked and reworked it, then set it aside.

As I've listened the past couple of weeks to what is coming down the road for public education, much of it punitive at the least and retributive at the worst, I realized that I couldn't put off completing this post any longer.

I went into the education profession because I cared what happened to the children who were placed under my guidance. I wanted to make a difference in their lives like so many of my former teachers made in mine.   I wanted to be in a profession where, by and large, most people felt the same way. I didn't become a teacher for the pay or having the summers "off." (Which is a whole different post perhaps I'll tackle some day.) Yes, there are teachers that are less than effective. There are people in any profession who are not effective or who reflect poorly upon that profession because of their words and deeds. Does that mean I paint the whole profession with a broad brush and write them all off because of a few outliers who skew the perception of what the majority do?

No.

Yet, it seems as though everything that I have worked for in the past several years is under attack from the very people who should be the most supportive.

I am all for accountability for teachers and administrators. I don't think many people argue that isn't necessary - just as there needs to be accountability for ANY profession. But accountability in what form and for what purpose? When you consider all that is now considered part and parcel of what constitutes public education it is daunting. Additionally, there are more stakeholders in this situation than just teachers and administrators. Where is the accountability of the parents, students, communities, and policy makers? Where is the consideration of all the consequences both intended and unintended that come as a result of mandates - many unfunded - that are passed down from those who have little to no experience in the actual system of public education?

Here are two very powerful pieces from the perspective of a teacher who says it far more eloquently than I can.

Let's Blame the Schools

When you're only valued as the outcome...

I urge you to read them and share them.

This also brought to mind a story told by Jamie Vollmer a former businessman and critic of public education who is now a proponent. I think it makes several valuable points.

The Blueberry Story: The teacher gives the businessman a lesson

Image found here.

Does the fact that we are not able to choose our "raw material" excuse us from giving our best effort in educating the children we serve? Absolutely not! But, by the same token, you cannot judge public education and its facets through the lens of a corporation or business that has more control over its variables. We are dealing with human beings not pieces of plastic or metal that you can melt down and rework to suit your purpose!

I can honestly say that I don't know where the future of public education lies. Many days those glimpses of the future I do see can be mighty discouraging.

What would I do if I wasn't an educator?

 I don't know... but in the current environment, maybe I need to find out....

And yet, then I think of what really drove me to become a teacher and has kept me in the field regardless of the ups and downs - the children. There is nothing more heartbreaking than seeing potential wasted. But, conversely, there is nothing more satisfying than seeing the moment something clicks with a child. It's those last moments that help me hang on when I feel the most like moving on to something new. I can't control the world, or the nation, or even my state. I can control how effective I am in my classroom and my school. As in the story of the starfish, I may not be able to change everything but I can make a difference every day in the life of a child. I just hope I continue to get that chance.

Sowing...

It came to me

When I was young

That I would never be

       A great philosopher

       A healer of wounds

       A doer of mighty deeds

       A finder of hidden treasure

I am but a gardener

Simply a planter of seeds

A waterer of saplings

Encouraging tender shoots to burst forth

Eventually

Overshadowing the gardener

As branches stretch ever nearer

The great vast expanse

I am not forlorn

That the world

Knows not my name

I am content

That the seed sown

In the midst of the tumult

Has thrived and now

Sends forth seeds of its own

For me to plant

And nurture

And love

Life Through My Lens - Not forgotten...

On Saturday I had the chance to attend The Forgotten Carols with some very good friends.

For those who are unfamiliar with the story I'll share the general idea behind the Carols. The premise, according to the show's creator, was to think of the Christmas story from the perspective of those who may have missed out on the wondrous event. People like the innkeeper who turned the Holy Family away, a sleeping shepherd who missed the herald angels, an angel who could not sing in the heavenly choir, and so on. What are their carols?

While there are powerful messages in many of the "forgotten" carols there are a couple that never cease to move me. I Cannot Find My Way is one of them. This song puts into words the feelings that so many of us have felt at one time or another, perhaps may still be feeling. With so many different choices and voices, how can we know which is the right one? On stage there is powerful imagery as one by one the choir stands and faces different directions as if they truly are lost and trying to "find their way..." until the entire choir is standing and pleading, "Lord, help us find our way back home..." 

It also got me to wondering what my carol would be?

Toward the end of the performance, after the actors have left the stage and we are left with the creator of The Forgotten Carols, Michael McLean, who sits down at a piano and simply starts playing Together, Forever a song that reminds us that though we may be far from those we love through distance or hardship or even death, there is hope of seeing them once again - someday.  What better time to remind us than at Christmas, when He who passed below all things was born.