I found myself awake again at 5am. The natural alarm clocks, the birds outside my window, chirped me into waking up and turning on my laptop. I was told years ago that instead of trying to go back to sleep, trying unsuccessfully, to get my brain working. This time of the day is when my heart and my brain can combine forces to churn out pieces here and there.
As I sit here, on an early Monday morning, I have time to reflect, listen to my heart, and breathe. I have had 6 months to have quiet time while unemployed, however I am entirely ready now to embrace this new life, recreate, and discover me again. Okay. So this isn't exactly a new feeling, nor is it unique to me. However, "Winter" fades and "Summer" uses her overbearing heat to exclaim she hasn't abandoned us. Throughout these hot days and warm nights, in the city, and home I was raised, I can see and feel acceptance. God put me exactly where I needed to be, with the right people. I am supported, loved, and carried through the horrible pain of breaking up. Now, I laugh and smile more. I cry and brood less. Which is, of course, a good thing for all parties involved.
I still manage to tell a stranger on a weekly basis that my fiance and I broke up. Makes for an uncomfortable conversation. What do you say to a woman who's wedding was called-off? Sorry? I can't think of anything, anyone could say or do that can have save me from the heartache. It's something I need to go through. One of those life changing events where, at the time, I thought my life was out of control like in a bad nightmare. You know the ones where you wake up and you're still dreaming! I came out of the nightmare, faced reality, and grew.
Sure, it was and IS still a little messy. It's really no fun. This is the adult life, that reminds me, I no longer wear diapers or pull-ups! Just like a very wise woman once told me, it's time to put on those"big girl" panties now! I was carried the entire way, through the dark days of winter. Summer tells me, with her warm sunny days, that things DO change, just like the seasons. No feelings are permanent. My faith has been restored. My beautiful life goes on.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Heart Break: In Pieces
When will it be time for me to write my story: the story of my life? I guess there will never be the perfect time…EVER. Really, the best time may be now. I can take all of these feelings and put them to good use. Instead of wasting this passion, pain, and sadness while sitting on the couch curled up with the remote, I can open up my computer, and allow my broken heart to bleed into the keyboard. While I listen to Led Zeppelin and to the sound of the rain tapping on the roof, I can hear my heart beats, some fast and some slow. All are looking for a way to express some sort of emotion. Perhaps, these are the times in my life where I will remember…those were good days because I took loads of emotion and put it to help heal my heart.
So, that’s where I start today; using this energy weighing heavy in my heart. My heart feels so heavy, it could just fall right out of me. Roll down the hill and keep thumping, and thumping, and thumping away. No matter how heavy it is, or if it even falls out, know my heart will beat. I can’t turn off my love for him even if I was to tear my heart out of my chest cavity, just like I saw in a scene from “Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom.”
My heart, heavy, filled with pain, weeps. No man, no drug, no drink, no shoe, no piece of chocolate…NOTHING can mend this pain! I have to…I GET TO go through the pain. Going through the pain is not the default setting I was born. I don’t even recognize this feelings setting I’m in the process of today. It’s brand ne and a little stiff from non-use. Of course, just like cutting a tooth, there is pain in all growth. That tooth is going to come in no matter what and this heart break is unavoidable as well.
Going through this break-up is not going to just get better if I get around the pain with nicotine. It’s not going to get better with sugary cupcakes or giant burritos. It sure isn’t going to get better from any bong load or shot of liquor. I KNOW the pain is not going to go away if I find a man to soothe me. Even if it is for a moment, forgetting all of those pieces of my broken heart, shattered on the ground, is a welcome relief. Even if it’s for one night, one night of feeling wanted, caressed, kissed…one night of forgetting what’s real. I truly have never done a sober break-up. If sobriety was so easy…everyone would stay sober. This s one of those times in my life, where I know I am here to stay.
My life is bitter sweet today. Of course I would like to still be with Mark. He’s my buddy, my pal, my bombardier, and guardian angel. This break-up rips me up inside. How could a love that felt so right, so filled with happiness, and hope turn, one day, SPLAT, turns upside down? This hole can’t be sewn up, glued, stapled, or filled over night. What I know, is the hole can only be filled with my Higher Power.
Yesterday I picked up my stuff and moved it into a cement storage unit. While I packed up my belongings and put them into cold cardboard boxes, tears fell from my eyes. Trying to hold back my tears were more painful than actually letting those drops stream down like salty waterfalls onto the ground. Cardboard boxes, packing tape, splitting up mundane items like blenders and pots and pans is what this has come down to. Never did I think I would be packing my stuff up to move back in with my parents. I thought I would be packing my stuff up to move into our first home.
I suppose, if I have grown so much since Brian’s death, I wonder how much growth is possible through grieving this loss in my life. The possibilities are endless and I must go through the grief to get to the other side, healing.
So, that’s where I start today; using this energy weighing heavy in my heart. My heart feels so heavy, it could just fall right out of me. Roll down the hill and keep thumping, and thumping, and thumping away. No matter how heavy it is, or if it even falls out, know my heart will beat. I can’t turn off my love for him even if I was to tear my heart out of my chest cavity, just like I saw in a scene from “Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom.”
My heart, heavy, filled with pain, weeps. No man, no drug, no drink, no shoe, no piece of chocolate…NOTHING can mend this pain! I have to…I GET TO go through the pain. Going through the pain is not the default setting I was born. I don’t even recognize this feelings setting I’m in the process of today. It’s brand ne and a little stiff from non-use. Of course, just like cutting a tooth, there is pain in all growth. That tooth is going to come in no matter what and this heart break is unavoidable as well.
Going through this break-up is not going to just get better if I get around the pain with nicotine. It’s not going to get better with sugary cupcakes or giant burritos. It sure isn’t going to get better from any bong load or shot of liquor. I KNOW the pain is not going to go away if I find a man to soothe me. Even if it is for a moment, forgetting all of those pieces of my broken heart, shattered on the ground, is a welcome relief. Even if it’s for one night, one night of feeling wanted, caressed, kissed…one night of forgetting what’s real. I truly have never done a sober break-up. If sobriety was so easy…everyone would stay sober. This s one of those times in my life, where I know I am here to stay.
My life is bitter sweet today. Of course I would like to still be with Mark. He’s my buddy, my pal, my bombardier, and guardian angel. This break-up rips me up inside. How could a love that felt so right, so filled with happiness, and hope turn, one day, SPLAT, turns upside down? This hole can’t be sewn up, glued, stapled, or filled over night. What I know, is the hole can only be filled with my Higher Power.
Yesterday I picked up my stuff and moved it into a cement storage unit. While I packed up my belongings and put them into cold cardboard boxes, tears fell from my eyes. Trying to hold back my tears were more painful than actually letting those drops stream down like salty waterfalls onto the ground. Cardboard boxes, packing tape, splitting up mundane items like blenders and pots and pans is what this has come down to. Never did I think I would be packing my stuff up to move back in with my parents. I thought I would be packing my stuff up to move into our first home.
I suppose, if I have grown so much since Brian’s death, I wonder how much growth is possible through grieving this loss in my life. The possibilities are endless and I must go through the grief to get to the other side, healing.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
And They Came in Packs Carrying Cigarettes and Tissues
I feel like I really grew up here. I never thought I would really grow fond of LA. I mean, even when you say "LA" you don't even say the whole name. LA encompasses cities and suburbs and a vast amount of sprawling land. I have grown to love LA. Not because of the proximity to Sunset Strip, the Hollywood stars, Coffee Bean, and Venice Beach. I love LA because I have met the most amazing girlfriends.
I moved from San Diego to LA with 1 girlfriend(at the time she didn't like me so much.) We lived together in an apartment in West Hollywood with her boyfriend. We had holiday jobs at the Beverly Center on 3rd and La Cienega. We worked at Restoration Hardware among the stars that floated in to buy a sconce, paint, or some green glass knobs for their bathroom cabinets. The stars did not matter to me because all I wanted was a group of girlfriends like I had when I was in high school. Like I said, this one girlfriend was hanging on a thread. I didn't even want to hang out with me. I was selfish, stoned all the time, and I couldn't stop thinking about when I was going to make some girlfriends. I could make girlfriends in one night drunk at a club. I realize now, those were not friends. They were acquaintances.
So, I guess I had a enough of going to work stoned, drinking, and being pissed at the world because I moved to LA and I still wasn't happy. I was only living in LA for little over one month when I had an awakening. I had to get sober. I never thought I would go back to those meetings again. I thought I could handle it on my own. I was miserable and I believed I was unlovable. I was willing to do anything to feel better. I heard there was another way of living. I had to find these people in LA. Most likely they would not be women, they would be old men, with no teeth, wearing trench coats, and smoking cigarettes. I found so much better. I didn't find them on my own. God found these women for me. They were armed with cigarettes and tissues and they gave me their phone numbers.
They called me the next day and told me to meet them at a meeting. One woman even told me to go with her early and get bagels for a meeting! Who were these women? Were they for real? They were real and they have been real women in my life for 7 years and counting. I was allowed to cry, make mistakes, get angry, smoke cigarettes, and swear...and they talked about God too! I had found my people! I never knew I could allow God into my life, make mistakes, smoke, and swear...all at the same time!
I found my home. I found my long lost tribe of sisters. I found open hearts and open arms. I found my heart and I learned how to allow these women I barely knew to love me. And my life will never be the same....and that is a beautiful thing.
I moved from San Diego to LA with 1 girlfriend(at the time she didn't like me so much.) We lived together in an apartment in West Hollywood with her boyfriend. We had holiday jobs at the Beverly Center on 3rd and La Cienega. We worked at Restoration Hardware among the stars that floated in to buy a sconce, paint, or some green glass knobs for their bathroom cabinets. The stars did not matter to me because all I wanted was a group of girlfriends like I had when I was in high school. Like I said, this one girlfriend was hanging on a thread. I didn't even want to hang out with me. I was selfish, stoned all the time, and I couldn't stop thinking about when I was going to make some girlfriends. I could make girlfriends in one night drunk at a club. I realize now, those were not friends. They were acquaintances.
So, I guess I had a enough of going to work stoned, drinking, and being pissed at the world because I moved to LA and I still wasn't happy. I was only living in LA for little over one month when I had an awakening. I had to get sober. I never thought I would go back to those meetings again. I thought I could handle it on my own. I was miserable and I believed I was unlovable. I was willing to do anything to feel better. I heard there was another way of living. I had to find these people in LA. Most likely they would not be women, they would be old men, with no teeth, wearing trench coats, and smoking cigarettes. I found so much better. I didn't find them on my own. God found these women for me. They were armed with cigarettes and tissues and they gave me their phone numbers.
They called me the next day and told me to meet them at a meeting. One woman even told me to go with her early and get bagels for a meeting! Who were these women? Were they for real? They were real and they have been real women in my life for 7 years and counting. I was allowed to cry, make mistakes, get angry, smoke cigarettes, and swear...and they talked about God too! I had found my people! I never knew I could allow God into my life, make mistakes, smoke, and swear...all at the same time!
I found my home. I found my long lost tribe of sisters. I found open hearts and open arms. I found my heart and I learned how to allow these women I barely knew to love me. And my life will never be the same....and that is a beautiful thing.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Leap Into the Garden
I had a dream last night. I had to jump off of a building with a can of beans in my hand. I know...a can of beans? I don’t know why I had to jump. I was tethered to bungee cord with two other people. We were high up on a building's ledge and all I could see were clouds below me. In no way did I have the desire to leap off this building. I was safe and secure where I was. I could just take the elevator back down. Why was I was doing this? All I knew was that leaping off this ledge was going to be one of the scariest and craziest things I had have ever done! I thought I heard people below telling me, "Have Faith, Kathleen." But we were alone on the ledge and the people on the ground were too far below us to possibly be heard. I then felt a warm sense of security. God was there with me. I jumped off the building, tied to two others. We jumped and screamed as we headed down head first, tied to the bungee. We fell lower and lower and then...suddenly, we began to bounce up, then down, and then over and over again...up and down. The beans in the can began to fall out like an army of paratroopers and we began to laugh hysterically! We continued to laugh till we cried and our feet were soon on the ground. I was still alive! I was safe! I was laughing!
I believe this dream has a lot to do with where I'm in my life right now. I'll soon be moving out of LA to be with my awesome fiancé in the Bay Area. I'll also be exploring a different career path. I'll be starting a new chapter in my life. Taking a "jump" into action...a leap of Faith... this is what this dream revealed to me early this morning. I don't know what is going to happen in my future. However, when I make the decision to tap deeper into my heart, I find Faith. Everything my heart has desired is happening right now. In the words of Rev. Micheal Beckwith, "It's all Good and it's all God."
Where I've allowed God in, my life has blossomed. Sometimes I can see full blooms, beauty, and the color is abundant in my Life Garden. At other times, weeds have overrun various areas of my Garden and then it takes a vast amount of energy and Faith to find the beauty in what Is. Today, God is the gardener of my Life Garden. Quietly and gently God extracts what is in my way grow, so that I may grow abundantly. Day by day, God digs into my rich soil and while days pass, sprouts of New Growth become visible. When I choose Faith over fear, and turn over my life to God, my Garden bursts with vibrant colors! Today, I'm going to allow God, Energy, Love, Life, to take care of me. I let let Good in and take a leap of Faith. I stay tethered to the knowing that I'm completely taken care of by a Higher Power greater than myself.
I believe this dream has a lot to do with where I'm in my life right now. I'll soon be moving out of LA to be with my awesome fiancé in the Bay Area. I'll also be exploring a different career path. I'll be starting a new chapter in my life. Taking a "jump" into action...a leap of Faith... this is what this dream revealed to me early this morning. I don't know what is going to happen in my future. However, when I make the decision to tap deeper into my heart, I find Faith. Everything my heart has desired is happening right now. In the words of Rev. Micheal Beckwith, "It's all Good and it's all God."
Where I've allowed God in, my life has blossomed. Sometimes I can see full blooms, beauty, and the color is abundant in my Life Garden. At other times, weeds have overrun various areas of my Garden and then it takes a vast amount of energy and Faith to find the beauty in what Is. Today, God is the gardener of my Life Garden. Quietly and gently God extracts what is in my way grow, so that I may grow abundantly. Day by day, God digs into my rich soil and while days pass, sprouts of New Growth become visible. When I choose Faith over fear, and turn over my life to God, my Garden bursts with vibrant colors! Today, I'm going to allow God, Energy, Love, Life, to take care of me. I let let Good in and take a leap of Faith. I stay tethered to the knowing that I'm completely taken care of by a Higher Power greater than myself.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
My Big Girl Panties
When I think of what a mature woman looks like, she does not look like me. I think of mature as boring, dull, wearing pantyhose, and just no fun. This description of an “adult woman” is the reason why I have a hard time doing adult things. I kick and scream and finally succumb to reality. I AM 32 year old woman learning how to live as an adult, one day at a time.
The other night, my friend suggested to me to write about what is REALLY going on. The dirt. The grit. The pain. The life stuff I don’t want everyone to know that I deal with. Why would I post it on my blog for everyone to read?
Well...I’m taking contrary action and sharing with the world, that I struggle with being an adult woman. Is being a woman really all it’s cracked up to be? Where is that Kate Spade purse and Manolo Blahniks that Carrie was wearing on the Upper East Side? Is this what a WOMAN wears? Well, if she does, I’m not a woman. Does she drive her kids to soccer practice in a van? Well, I don’t look like that either. Does she live on Wisteria Lane and bake cupcakes? Nope, not her either. If I can’t find her, I’ll have to learn how to be the woman that looks like ME. So far, that woman can’t seem to even balance her check book, so I suppose those yummy Manolo Blahniks are not going to just apear in my closet. No matter how much I bitch and complain, I need to take care of ME. No one else can do that job.
I have a friend who talks about how she learned how to wear her "Big Girl Panties.” This is one of those times in my life, when I truly want to be out of diapers. I'm fully capable of never again wearing diapers. Am I ready for "Big Girl Panties" every day, all day? Maybe, I could get by wearing Pull-Ups for those occasions when I just need a back-up(in case of an accident of life). The dillema...how could I ever match the super sleek Kate Spade purse to the bright Dora the Explorer Pull-Ups? Damn! It would never work!
How do I trade in those Pull-Ups for those “Big Girl Panties”? This is THE question, THE issue that has been screaming in my face every day of the summer. Where did I decide that being a grown up needs to be painful, annoying, boring, and overall just like PLAIN, fat-free, sugar-free yogurt? Every time I don’t pay a bill on-time, it’s my protest to “The Man” that I won’t grow up! Every time I let another month go by without cleaning out my car, ironically I end up sitting on the couch, grumpy, with that plain yogurt taste in my mouth. I don’t want that PLAIN life. That dullness. Why do I think that not paying a bill or procrastinating on cleaning out my car will save me from eating PLAIN yogurt?
I have been told by my mentor, that adult life can be full, fun, and beautiful. How could this be true? Paying off my college loan debt will slowly mold me into the adult woman I have always wanted to be, the WISE one tells me. She says that I will live an abundant life, full of wonder and LOVE. She tells me that when I wear those "Big Girl Panties", I'm one step closer to becoming the woman I have always wanted to be. She tells me that eating healthy (eating plain yogurt once in a while), exercising, and taking deep breaths will help support my body and soul.
Being a woman, a REAL woman, is scary! Will it hurt? Will I forget about fun? Will I suffer from a life of endless chores, bill paying, and never playing in the warm sun on a sandy beach? Will I get to surf? When my work is done, THEN, I was told I could play. Until then, it will be work. I can not deny myself pleasure. How did I ever think that being an adult was going to be easy? I just take the next step in front of me TODAY. First, I show up for my job. Second, I take care of my body. Third, I take some time to do the “adult woman” stuff, with gratitude for the life I GET to live. How can I be thankful that I GET to pay for another bill? I really don’t know! I guess I just keep paying those bills. Big Girls pay their bills.
Living the life of a “little girl” is no longer pleasing to me. Living the abundant “Life of a Woman in LA” is much more pleasing. I'll eat more plain yogurt with some added sweet fruit and crunchy granola for some exctiement. Also, I'm going to throw away those disposable Pull–Ups and start wearing my plain cotton, but functional "Big Girl Panties."
The other night, my friend suggested to me to write about what is REALLY going on. The dirt. The grit. The pain. The life stuff I don’t want everyone to know that I deal with. Why would I post it on my blog for everyone to read?
Well...I’m taking contrary action and sharing with the world, that I struggle with being an adult woman. Is being a woman really all it’s cracked up to be? Where is that Kate Spade purse and Manolo Blahniks that Carrie was wearing on the Upper East Side? Is this what a WOMAN wears? Well, if she does, I’m not a woman. Does she drive her kids to soccer practice in a van? Well, I don’t look like that either. Does she live on Wisteria Lane and bake cupcakes? Nope, not her either. If I can’t find her, I’ll have to learn how to be the woman that looks like ME. So far, that woman can’t seem to even balance her check book, so I suppose those yummy Manolo Blahniks are not going to just apear in my closet. No matter how much I bitch and complain, I need to take care of ME. No one else can do that job.
I have a friend who talks about how she learned how to wear her "Big Girl Panties.” This is one of those times in my life, when I truly want to be out of diapers. I'm fully capable of never again wearing diapers. Am I ready for "Big Girl Panties" every day, all day? Maybe, I could get by wearing Pull-Ups for those occasions when I just need a back-up(in case of an accident of life). The dillema...how could I ever match the super sleek Kate Spade purse to the bright Dora the Explorer Pull-Ups? Damn! It would never work!
How do I trade in those Pull-Ups for those “Big Girl Panties”? This is THE question, THE issue that has been screaming in my face every day of the summer. Where did I decide that being a grown up needs to be painful, annoying, boring, and overall just like PLAIN, fat-free, sugar-free yogurt? Every time I don’t pay a bill on-time, it’s my protest to “The Man” that I won’t grow up! Every time I let another month go by without cleaning out my car, ironically I end up sitting on the couch, grumpy, with that plain yogurt taste in my mouth. I don’t want that PLAIN life. That dullness. Why do I think that not paying a bill or procrastinating on cleaning out my car will save me from eating PLAIN yogurt?
I have been told by my mentor, that adult life can be full, fun, and beautiful. How could this be true? Paying off my college loan debt will slowly mold me into the adult woman I have always wanted to be, the WISE one tells me. She says that I will live an abundant life, full of wonder and LOVE. She tells me that when I wear those "Big Girl Panties", I'm one step closer to becoming the woman I have always wanted to be. She tells me that eating healthy (eating plain yogurt once in a while), exercising, and taking deep breaths will help support my body and soul.
Being a woman, a REAL woman, is scary! Will it hurt? Will I forget about fun? Will I suffer from a life of endless chores, bill paying, and never playing in the warm sun on a sandy beach? Will I get to surf? When my work is done, THEN, I was told I could play. Until then, it will be work. I can not deny myself pleasure. How did I ever think that being an adult was going to be easy? I just take the next step in front of me TODAY. First, I show up for my job. Second, I take care of my body. Third, I take some time to do the “adult woman” stuff, with gratitude for the life I GET to live. How can I be thankful that I GET to pay for another bill? I really don’t know! I guess I just keep paying those bills. Big Girls pay their bills.
Living the life of a “little girl” is no longer pleasing to me. Living the abundant “Life of a Woman in LA” is much more pleasing. I'll eat more plain yogurt with some added sweet fruit and crunchy granola for some exctiement. Also, I'm going to throw away those disposable Pull–Ups and start wearing my plain cotton, but functional "Big Girl Panties."
Monday, August 18, 2008
Endless Summer
I wanted to blog today about how I’m feeling a little depressed because it’s the end of my summer vacation. However, I decided to take a different approach this time. I will keep it brief and light.
What would life be without summer? Summer is an amazing time when getting frozen yogurt at 10pm is a must and keeping the windows open to catch the cool ocean breeze is the only A/C in my house. Summer is golden sunny fun, paired with long nights of contemplation when it’s too hot to sleep. Dressed in shots, flip flops and tank tops…..tan shoulders and noses. My tan feet bare a slight resemblance to the tops of my flip flops and soon my feet will scream when I have to put on socks and stick them into a pair of sneakers.
Over the summer, my hot morning tea has been replaced with ice tea and a slice of lemon. There have been only few times I can remember that I last bundled myself up in a sweatshirt; One was in the movie theater in July and it was only due to the mistake of sitting under the A/C that blasted us like an Arctic wind. Two was while I was walking on the cold streets of the Castro District in San Francisco a few weeks ago. You would have thought it was November by the way the SF residents were sporting their knit beanies and fuzzy scarves.
My boyfriend and I decided that SF is no place to be when there is a sunny, warm, and delicious place like Los Angeles to call home during a beautiful summer.
The thing is, summer in LA is a lot like Spring and Fall in LA too....Warm weather, surfing, sandy beach time, Sunday BBQ's, flip flops, and long bike rides. My tan will fade,the water will get cooler, the bike rides will be shorter, and I'll have to keep the windows closed. However, the most delicious thing is I don't have to pack up my bags, load up the car, and say goodbye to this lifestyle. This vacation wonderland...my little grass shack by the sea...is home.
What would life be without summer? Summer is an amazing time when getting frozen yogurt at 10pm is a must and keeping the windows open to catch the cool ocean breeze is the only A/C in my house. Summer is golden sunny fun, paired with long nights of contemplation when it’s too hot to sleep. Dressed in shots, flip flops and tank tops…..tan shoulders and noses. My tan feet bare a slight resemblance to the tops of my flip flops and soon my feet will scream when I have to put on socks and stick them into a pair of sneakers.
Over the summer, my hot morning tea has been replaced with ice tea and a slice of lemon. There have been only few times I can remember that I last bundled myself up in a sweatshirt; One was in the movie theater in July and it was only due to the mistake of sitting under the A/C that blasted us like an Arctic wind. Two was while I was walking on the cold streets of the Castro District in San Francisco a few weeks ago. You would have thought it was November by the way the SF residents were sporting their knit beanies and fuzzy scarves.
My boyfriend and I decided that SF is no place to be when there is a sunny, warm, and delicious place like Los Angeles to call home during a beautiful summer.
The thing is, summer in LA is a lot like Spring and Fall in LA too....Warm weather, surfing, sandy beach time, Sunday BBQ's, flip flops, and long bike rides. My tan will fade,the water will get cooler, the bike rides will be shorter, and I'll have to keep the windows closed. However, the most delicious thing is I don't have to pack up my bags, load up the car, and say goodbye to this lifestyle. This vacation wonderland...my little grass shack by the sea...is home.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
From the Mouths of Babes
I woke up this morning out of yet another nightmare about teaching. For those of you that don’t know me, I teach 4th grade and I'm currently enjoying my 3rd week of summer vacation. Almost every night since I went on vacation, my subconscious has not been “there” with me. Over the past three weeks I’ve dreamt that I changed grade levels, my classroom was too small and I had to share it with the office staff, I was subbing my retired father’s high school class and he didn’t leave me lessons, and there are even more dreams. Every teacher I know has these teacher related anxiety dreams. Really, they are just a twisted version of those dreams I used to get where I would go to school, forget that there was a big exam, and to make it worse of course I forgot to put on clothes! I always thought my teachers had it together. Now, I realize they were merely human.
Last night I had the crème de la crème of dreams. I dreamt that I was fired! Okay. So, I was not just fired. I was replaced! I went back to school the next day after I was fired and proceeded to walk into my classroom. I thought I saw a sub sitting in my chair. Uh…no…he was my replacement! I went over to him, introduced myself, and then told him if he needed anything at all then he shouldn’t hesitate to…..NEVER ******* CALL ME!
I was furious! I proceeded to throw anything I saw in my way. I tore down a bulletin board. I threw pencils, binders, chairs, and anything I could get my hands on! Basically, I went ballistic! Or, as it was widely referred to in the 90’s, I went “postal.” So, why was I replaced? Well, I didn’t speak Spanish. I knew I should have been paying attention to Mrs. Remley in Spanish class! (Attending class would have certainly been beneficial.)
I woke up out of this nightmare and proceeded to pick up my car keys. As I walked out to my car, I had a mission. The mission was to find one reason why I’m still teaching after four years. In my car, there was a basket of things I took out of my classroom on the last day of school. This basket included paper work, a few gifts, and my most prized possessions, the annual “end of the year letters” from my students. I pulled that purple basket out of the car and walked back inside my house to find the reason.
As I opened up the letters, I saw all their faces and remembered the last few hours on the last day of school; There was a conga line weaving through my class and a dance competition going on simultaneously. Cupcakes, juice, and chips (not a piece of fruit in sight) were on every desk! After the kids left, there I was cleaning up the chocolate frosting off the floor and putting out the huge garbage bags filled with red plastic cups and multi-colored cupcake wrappers. The only sign of student life left in the classroom were those letters neatly stacked in a basket on top of the bookshelf.
This was their final writing assignment to me. Not to be graded. No draft to be corrected. The only thing they had to do was to sum up what they accomplished, tell me what they liked least and most about 4th grade, give my new class advice, and my favorite, they needed to give me advice. It’s in the advice that I discovered a reason why I’m still teaching, despite the crowded classrooms, budget cuts, and a plethora of testing. These are testaments to the truth that lies in children. When I embrace this type of honesty, all the other road blocks around teaching are easy to get around and a reason why I am stilling teaching becomes more clear.
“End of the Year Letters to Ms. Berryessa”
Advice to Ms. B. from her 4th Grade Students (June 2008)
“As for you Ms. B, you can be a little nicer.” Followed by “You are the best, Ms. Berryessa.”
“Stay how you are, because you are a great as a teacher.”
“Advice I give to my teacher is to be nicer.”
“If you give more parties they (the class) would like your class.”
“Teach them (students) a lot and encourage them to do their best.”
“You can put up a chart and put everybody’s name on it and the numbers 2-12 and every time they get their times tables right they get a sticker on the chart.”
“An advice I’d give to you is that you need to ask for more than 3 questions because some kids might have good questions in their heads.”
“My advice to give you is to give more challenging consequences.”
“Play more games.”
“Always eat healthy and keep wearing a smile every day.”
“Work together with another teacher so you can get done faster.”
I really see this advice as simply living in the moment. Simple and yet beautiful words written to me by 9 and 10 year olds. I do have an amazing life. I found that reason I began to look for this morning; I’m still teaching because these kids keep me teachable and humble.
Thank you students of Room 240 for teaching me more than you'll ever know!
Last night I had the crème de la crème of dreams. I dreamt that I was fired! Okay. So, I was not just fired. I was replaced! I went back to school the next day after I was fired and proceeded to walk into my classroom. I thought I saw a sub sitting in my chair. Uh…no…he was my replacement! I went over to him, introduced myself, and then told him if he needed anything at all then he shouldn’t hesitate to…..NEVER ******* CALL ME!
I was furious! I proceeded to throw anything I saw in my way. I tore down a bulletin board. I threw pencils, binders, chairs, and anything I could get my hands on! Basically, I went ballistic! Or, as it was widely referred to in the 90’s, I went “postal.” So, why was I replaced? Well, I didn’t speak Spanish. I knew I should have been paying attention to Mrs. Remley in Spanish class! (Attending class would have certainly been beneficial.)
I woke up out of this nightmare and proceeded to pick up my car keys. As I walked out to my car, I had a mission. The mission was to find one reason why I’m still teaching after four years. In my car, there was a basket of things I took out of my classroom on the last day of school. This basket included paper work, a few gifts, and my most prized possessions, the annual “end of the year letters” from my students. I pulled that purple basket out of the car and walked back inside my house to find the reason.
As I opened up the letters, I saw all their faces and remembered the last few hours on the last day of school; There was a conga line weaving through my class and a dance competition going on simultaneously. Cupcakes, juice, and chips (not a piece of fruit in sight) were on every desk! After the kids left, there I was cleaning up the chocolate frosting off the floor and putting out the huge garbage bags filled with red plastic cups and multi-colored cupcake wrappers. The only sign of student life left in the classroom were those letters neatly stacked in a basket on top of the bookshelf.
This was their final writing assignment to me. Not to be graded. No draft to be corrected. The only thing they had to do was to sum up what they accomplished, tell me what they liked least and most about 4th grade, give my new class advice, and my favorite, they needed to give me advice. It’s in the advice that I discovered a reason why I’m still teaching, despite the crowded classrooms, budget cuts, and a plethora of testing. These are testaments to the truth that lies in children. When I embrace this type of honesty, all the other road blocks around teaching are easy to get around and a reason why I am stilling teaching becomes more clear.
“End of the Year Letters to Ms. Berryessa”
Advice to Ms. B. from her 4th Grade Students (June 2008)
“As for you Ms. B, you can be a little nicer.” Followed by “You are the best, Ms. Berryessa.”
“Stay how you are, because you are a great as a teacher.”
“Advice I give to my teacher is to be nicer.”
“If you give more parties they (the class) would like your class.”
“Teach them (students) a lot and encourage them to do their best.”
“You can put up a chart and put everybody’s name on it and the numbers 2-12 and every time they get their times tables right they get a sticker on the chart.”
“An advice I’d give to you is that you need to ask for more than 3 questions because some kids might have good questions in their heads.”
“My advice to give you is to give more challenging consequences.”
“Play more games.”
“Always eat healthy and keep wearing a smile every day.”
“Work together with another teacher so you can get done faster.”
I really see this advice as simply living in the moment. Simple and yet beautiful words written to me by 9 and 10 year olds. I do have an amazing life. I found that reason I began to look for this morning; I’m still teaching because these kids keep me teachable and humble.
Thank you students of Room 240 for teaching me more than you'll ever know!
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