The Right Thing is Not Always the Easiest

Ever heard this before:
"What is the right thing to do isn't always the easiest thing to do." 
Or some version of that type of saying?

I feel that this is a lesson we teach our students as they travel through our classrooms- teaching them to have courage, to stand up for themselves and for one another, to do the right thing even when it is hard. I know that I say things like this at least weekly, if not daily- and sometimes choosing the right thing to do is super difficult and it takes a lot of self control, perseverance, and understanding on one's part. These are things that we as educators should be teaching and empowering children to be able to do on their own, so that when the time comes and they are alone with a choice to make, they can make the right one.

However, I don't think this life lesson is one that needs to be forgotten as an adult, especially in the teaching profession.

A buzzword and common practice among educators today is collaboration. Collaboration is a beautiful thing that, if done well, can make the phrase "two heads are better than one" come to life. I had the pleasure of collaborating with an incredible colleague for 4 years at my past school, and it was a joy and immense opportunity for growth and learning to have someone next door to me to reflect daily with, share ideas with, bounce lessons off of one another with, share struggles and triumphs with. I know that because of the time spent putting our heads together I became a better teacher for my students, and we took our learning experiences farther than I could have on my own.

This being said, collaboration is a thrilling process that can result in brilliance, and is something that I miss this year being on my own little island. (I teach a self-contained class of highly gifted and talented first graders, and it is the only class of its kind in my district). However, collaboration is only worthwhile when it is done well. Collaboration is only true, worthwhile collaboration when members involved leave with new knowledge/understanding, a task to try, or learning of their own that they only could gain by the practice of respectfully sharing and creating new ideas with others. Collaboration is when every member of the group respectfully contributes meaning and experience to the task or discussion at hand, where ideas and thoughts of members are heard and respected by other members, where any existing problems are solved and solutions are created. Together.

How unfortunate it is when collaboration takes a wrong turn and a teacher's voice is silenced. It seems that doing the right thing for our students is often the unpopular thing amongst many others around us; where actually being positive about our job and teaching children, or desiring to try new lessons, or attempting a unique idea is frowned at, laughed at, scoffed at, or brushed off. That sometimes it is just the easier thing to stay quiet and aloof in a meeting instead of asserting your thoughts or ideas. That sometimes it is just the easier thing to go with the flow of a group instead of doing what you truly believe is best for children. True collaboration shouldn't result in those things, and when "collaborating" causes a member of the group to have to choose between what is right and what is easy, it shouldn't be called collaboration in the first place.

Today, I charge us, the educators of children, to just do it: do what is best for children, no matter the cost, no matter the opposition. In the words of Taylor Swift, haters are gonna hate- and we just need to shake it off. Because these kids are worth it. They are worth us doing the right thing for them, even if it means facing disapproval or unpopularity from others. When it comes down to it, what we do everyday affects lives. A student's life is precious. Think about that a second- it's a LIFE! A life, a mind, a soul, a heart, a person. This is a life that we are helping to build and shape, and if we truly value it, we need to fight for the very best for them.

It will take a lot of courage and confidence to be able to do this well and to always try to do what is right for children, instead of what is easiest.

Imitation

I will always remember this moment. It was in March 2013 right after our annual Texas Public Schools Week celebration. You see, during this particular week every year, the school would invite parents and guardians to come and enjoy a morning in our classrooms, to watch their children engage in a typical morning routine, see how they interact with each other and with me, and get a glimpse of what life is like in our little first grade classroom. My mother also came on this particular morning because she always delights in seeing my students and me in action.

As the visiting time was coming to a close, the children were excitedly shuffling about, and the parents were making their ways to the door to leave, I had one parent mention the following to my mother before she left. "Now that I've spent a morning in the classroom, it is so clear to me that my son completely imitates everything that Mrs. Rubinson does back at home. From her mannerisms to the way she says things, the vocabulary she uses to the songs she sings, he does it all. Now I know where he's picked it all up from!"

Imitation. We, as teachers, will be imitated by our students. For 9 months a year, 5 days a week, 7+ hours a day, our students will imitate us. And what they imitate will aide in developing them into who they will become.

You see, as educators, we are so. much. more. than just implementers of the state standards.

We do so much more than analyze data, group students for RtI purposes, and document our daily minutes spent in small group intervention.

We give so much more than tests, quizzes, grades, projects- we give ourselves. And the thing is, if these children are truly imitators of the people around them, our job does not simply call us to develop lessons, but our job calls us to develop children.

My favorite thing about being a teacher I can sum up in these few words: I love getting to develop children into who they are meant to be. And this means that I must, must, must be someone worthy of imitation.

(This cannot be achieved for my-particular-self apart from my Heavenly Father, and I've learned that the hard way.)

Mistakes will be made, and I've learned this year how to discuss them with my students instead of hide them. To learn from figures such as Thomas Edison: "I haven't failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work." And they imitate that, too. They imitate how we not only as teachers, but as adults, respond to failure or mistakes, how we react to change, how we celebrate growth and progress, how we speak towards others (children and colleagues), how we process through a think-aloud, how we persevere through difficult tasks...the list goes on.

I wish that more educators would recognize this incredible opportunity to shape young lives forever. I wish that instead of students sitting in desks doing mounds of worksheets that they would be sitting at the feet of their teacher, stretching their minds and growing their character. I wish that instead of teachers watching the clock for lunch and dismissal, or anxiously counting down the days until summer break, that they would see time as precious and fleeting, and that we only have so much of it to spend with these little ones before they continue on their way, our classroom a mere stepping stone on their life journey. Because our children may learn to watch the clock or count down the days, too, because we do- and in that, they may grow to believe that neither school nor learning are experiences they want to be a part of. You see? Everything we do...

I hope that I never undervalue my role as a developer who is imitated by young children.

2013-2014

People always told me to keep a blog, so that when the going got rough, I could look back on all the wonderful memories and be reminded why I love teaching and everything will be ok.

Whenever they would tell me this though, I would kind of shrug it off and think, it will never been that bad to where I am hopelessly grasping at straws, at any memento or blog post or note from a student or picture, that will give me hope back in this profession.

Well, guess what I just did?

Read my old blog posts.

And it reminded me to love again. To laugh again. To thank God for the gifts he has given me by giving me these 22 students. To remember that it won't always be like this...or like that!

Because honestly, it has been like *that* this year. I just read back to my second year posts and saw where it said, "We have finally found our groove..." and I've just been waiting, waiting, waiting for that groove to be found with my current group of kiddos. My heart cries out in pain each day for the small handful of students in my room who are just as confused as I am as to why things just aren't clicking. Just aren't working.

Working myself into a pit of anxiety and despair, I have become bitter. The other day I thought about the story of Naomi in Ruth, and how she changed her name to Mara (which means bitter) due to the hand that God had dealt her and thought, maybe I should be named Mara. Which then made me think that she lost her husband and her two sons, far greater despair than I have ever known, and then compared to my unruly field day experience or math lesson gone wrong, I am no longer convinced that I am even worthy of such name change.

And thus the cycle starts again. Beating myself up for feeling the way I do, telling myself I shouldn't be feeling this way, but then still feeling that way, and then being angry at myself for multiple reasons. It's a continuous spiral that I would rather not continue, but then the days pass on and the sun rises again and for the rest of my contracted 180 days I am expected to return, with a smile, to my front door at classroom P104 for another 8 hours of educating the most challenging group of children I have taught. There's nothing else to do, and I am faced with the daunting task of making it through another day. I ask myself, am I going to have anything thrown at me today? Is ______ going to make it through the day? Is ______ going to fit and tantrum all day or not? Is _______ going to yell at me or others? Are they going to learn today? Are we even accomplishing ANYTHING?

And then the moments happen. They are rare. But when they happen, they are AMAZING. The moments when we make it through a lesson without anyone yelling at each other, at me, or tantruming in the corner. The moments of disbelief when I am individually testing and I look up and everyone is actually doing what they are supposed to do, not destroying property or picking on someone else. The moments like this: yesterday we had a science day where we did volcano experiments and simulations. My kids were beyond ecstatic, their joy was real and felt, their intrigue and enthusiasm were unmatched. The laughter, excitement, and thrill that pulsed through each of my students was real, was authentic, was raw and made me remember WHY I love teaching again.

This year I've tied more shoes, wiped more tears, given more hugs, called more parents, high-fived more hands, tutored more, cried more, questioned more...but ultimately, I feel like I've given more. I've expended every single bit of myself that I could have. I've done all that I could do for these children. I've tried more ways than ever before to help them succeed, not only academically but behaviorally. But it still doesn't feel like I've given enough. At all.

Do you know why?

Because I've tried to do it on my own. And this is one reason why God is so important. Because it doesn't matter what we do. It doesn't matter what we try, what new ideas or approaches we use, how long we stay at school, if we stand at the door every morning or not, if we wear jeans one day and dress down from our usual professional attire. All of these elements I have tried to control for so long, and as much as they matter (if at all), God matters A WHOLE lot more. And He is going to do what He sees fit. He rules this world and all that is in it, and if He doesn't find it fitting or pleasing for our class to "find our groove" before the year is over, there is a reason. And I need to keep remembering this sobering truth, that God does as He pleases, and His will is going to be done, and I can't try to finagle things without Him and His beautiful outstretched hands.

And I can't forget that He loves me. That it is all done for my good according to His purpose. So all I ask is that Lord, you will bless the last 22 days I have with my 22 students at Foster Village Elementary, the last 22 days I will spend in this school. Help me to not be self consumed or inwardly focused, but create for us 22 days of beautiful learning and joy that we will look back on for years to come with fondness and reminiscent favor. All I want is for my current 22 students to know the Lord, love one another and find joy in life. Use me as an instrument for that purpose.

All of this to say, keeping a blog, having a place to store cherished thoughts and memories about what we do...teaching...is worth it. Because even though this post may be depressing, it felt good to let it out and it is part of it all. And there are also pages of past entries that fill me with gladness and remind me that the teaching profession is not hopeless, but FULL of hope. Bursting with hope at the seams.

Mrs. R is Back in Action...with the Arts

It is INCREDIBLE the amount of thought I have put into this blog. The past 2 years were filled with cute stories, adventures of interestingly named students, moments of vulnerability and vented frustration, and memories of times abroad and times in classroom P104.

I can't tell you how many blogs I have begrudgingly perused in haste as I try to find the latest and greatest way to teach or introduce new content. I think there are a lot of people with great ideas out there. But more times than none, I would browse until I was blue. "How do other teachers REALLY do all of those incredibly time consuming, high-preparatory activities with many, many 6 year old children, and still have their sanity?" I would ask myself.

Nevertheless, I love all the ideas that people have and share so openly and freely with others. I knew I wanted to do somewhat of the same, but still maintain my blog as more of a confessional space than one to post freebies (yet, who knows, maybe one day this will lead down that road!).

So, here is my confession today: CHILDREN LEARN THROUGH THE ARTS SO WE SHOULD BE DOING THEM MORE IN THE CLASSROOM.

I don't mean have a full day of 15 art activities and get no instruction taught. The trend that education is taking under its wing is to only look at the Texas Essential Knowledge Standards, known as the TEKS, pick and pull them apart until you are sweating about each verb and description in each standard and figuring out how you are going to assess that standard, then planning out learning activities along the way.

It's all about planning with the end in mind. The end is the standard being met through a means of testing or assessing that the children know it. But...what about the stuff that gets you there?

This is what I'm talking about. I was that kid who really, really sucked at soccer. I couldn't dribble a ball, and anything coming at me whether thrown or flying was automatically ducked. I still get pretty bothered with myself that my 3-year-old nephew can swing at a golf ball and actually make contact with it, where I still swing and get air. *sigh*

But what I DID do well were the arts. Art. Drawing. Painting. Sculpting. Oil pastels and colored pencils were my loves. Singing. Music, beats, rhythms, rhymes, poetry, playing instruments, reading notes on a page, making melodies. Dance. Movement, rhythm, ballet, tap, spinning, twirling, you name it. Dramatic play. Acting, being dramatic, playing house and coming up with Barbie doll scenarios and full-on performances a little too well.

Kids love these mediums and can learn through these mediums too. We don't need to ban them from schools or be told that they are a waste of time and don't correlate with curriculum. We need to find legitimate ways to integrate them into the content we are teaching to reinforce the skills that need to be taught, learned, and mastered.

Let the artistic flair begin!

The Nostalgia of my 2nd Year

It's so funny the things that make you nostalgic. For me, just now, it was putting in a load of laundry and deciding which work pants I needed to wash and iron for the week. Then, I remembered that we are allowed to wear jeans all week on our last week of school. And I stopped, and slowly lowered the pants into the washer, and started to cry.

As women, we get emotional over things that we just don't understand. Last week I couldn't stop crying over how much I love my fiance. Today, I teared up 4 times during worship at church, barely choking out the beautiful lyrics about our Savior's redeeming love. Those two are understandable. But today, I could barely lower my grey pair of J. Crew chinos into the washing machine without losing it.

I can't believe that I only have 5 days left with these incredible 20 children. This year has been so unexplainably challenging for me. I have had so many days where I've wondered if the teaching profession is for me. I've spent countless days after school wondering when their reading levels would go higher, questioning my teaching methods of the day, going crazy about all the paperwork that I still hadn't done. I went from a class who came to me with little respect for others and hardly any discipline, to a class who is serving one another, loving one another, actually loving to learn and all performing in math and reading at exceptional levels. We have come. so. far. It's hard to explain to outsiders exactly how far we have come, but to break it down for you would be impossible.

There were moments when I couldn't take another minute and I wanted to get out as fast as I could. I had visions of me ducking behind a large trashcan and not coming back out to teach. I had a hard time finding funny or cute things my kids would do or say because I was so immersed in correcting their behavior. But those months of endless redirection have paid off, and they are maturing into sweet, caring, respectful children. I am experiencing an immeasurable amount of joy and pride for my kids. They have done it. They are ready for 2nd grade. They treat others the way they want to be treated. They show interest in learning and are beginning to self-motivate themselves to learn and do and create and be. They have learned how to serve others and put others before themselves. Where there was once no light at the end of the tunnel, it is so clearly seen now...

Now, that I have to let them go.

I thought I'd be ready for the year to be over, and I am in many ways (getting married this summer, being a pool rat, being able to learn more and create things over the summer and start fresh). And yes, I am ready for the year to be over, but I'm not ready to pass on these children. Just like last year, the thought of passing them on to someone else scares me, but I know that they are not my children. They are the Lord's, and all I've been in their lives is a small light of his love, which has been entirely through his grace on me and the spirit within me. I have been a small part to play in the grand scheme of their lives, and all I can do is continue to put them into the Father's hands and pray for their little hearts and lives to grow and mature and know Jesus as their savior who loves them more than anyone ever could.

So as I put the work clothes away and reflect on another year of teaching, I know that God has given me exactly what, and who, I needed. My 20 students of P104, I needed you this year. You have allowed me to learn amazing lessons of patience, endurance, strength, courage; dependence on the Lord and the giving up of human power and strength; how to let God be the king of my classroom, instead of myself; how to love others for exactly who and what they are; and so many more. I love you, and I will always believe in you, be here for you, and care for you.

Until next year...when I become Mrs. Rubinson and my students have a difficult time with that last name...I pray for this last week to be filled with sweet moments with my precious little ones. Thank you for reading and allowing me to share my life with you.

God LOVES us...wildly, passionately, completely

Another day at the daily grind and I'm frustrated. Doing TPRI (first grade standardized test, where the teacher has to individually pull students for 15-20 minutes and test them on reading skills) and feeling like there have been major holes or gaps in my teaching somewhere because I KNOW that my kids can read the word "cut," they are just not doing it...

Not to mention, feelings of inadequacy and constant comparison to other teachers that I know are so great and successful...

I thought this year would be much easier than the first, and I thought that I would be able to hang loose. It has not been so, and spending a whole school year racking my brain coming up with new things to motivate my passive students has been so exhausting. Tiring. Causing me to question, am I really doing this? Is this really what I should be doing, is this really me?

But in the midst of the chaos, confusion, moments of crying to my teammates and feelings of doubt, GOD LOVES ME. Wildly, passionately, completely loves me and loves me with no hesitation, no doubt. He shows me in the most beautiful ways.

There is a freshman college student who I met last year as he was one of our class's high school PALS. We ran into each other at 24 Hour Fitness this past August and began talking, got into some interesting conversation about Jesus and he asked if he could come volunteer at the school for volunteer hours. After that he began working as a leader in the after school program, stopping by to say hello and having intense or growth-inspiring discussions about the Lord. Through these interactions, this college freshman has fully 100% put his faith in Jesus Christ and is now applying to work at a Christian summer camp to tell children about Jesus, as well as ministering to his classmates at TCC and telling them that Jesus is the real deal, and there is no other way.

Or take the 6 year old student I have who I have been encouraging and praising regarding his writing the past few weeks. This afternoon, I was tired. I had had it. I was DONE. And he comes up to me when we are packing up our backpacks and handing out folders, and I'm so busy rushing about trying to get 20 kids out the door, when he hands me a piece of paper.

"Miss Leiss, look how much writing I did."
"That looks great, sweetie," I say as I am still moving about, cleaning things up.
"...will you read it please?"

I am SO, so glad that I decided to stop my madness and take a moment to read it. This is what it said.

"Thank you for all of thees things Jesus. we All love you Jesus. We hope you never diae on the cros. and nowon hates you Jesus."

I melted and I told him, "This is so wonderful. It truly touches my heart and I'm so glad you wrote this. But I have something to tell you. Jesus DID die on the cross already, and it's a good thing, because since he died on the cross, now we can know him and live with him forever in heaven. We aren't good as people, but he was perfect. And him dying on the cross allows us to be perfect with him one day."

See what I mean? ANY GOOD THAT I DO IS COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY BY THE GRACE, THE GOOD, AMAZING GRACE OF GOD! Because my tendency is to let my stress and frustrations overshadow the good around me. And he, he is SO good. And he loves me, wildly, passionately, completely, because he allows me to take part in his reconciliation of the world; even on the worst of days, he shows me the beauty that he is.

You make beautiful things out of the dust You make beautiful things out of us You make me new You are making me new

The Search for God in ALL Things

It's amazing how inspiration can come and go for a writer. And for some reason, my inspiration the past few months has been lost. Lost in the chaos and schedules, lost in the planning and doing. I've forgotten how to just be, how to breathe in and breathe out this thing called life, and how to catch glimpses of our great God in even the simplest of events or moments.

I kept telling myself that nothing was noteworthy of being posted or written about, that there was very little about my every-days that should be blogged for anyone's enjoyment. However, in this process I have simply resisted seeking God in my day-to-day routine, conversations with students, laughter with my incredible and creative colleagues, and hours of being alone in my classroom after school, where the blasting of Shane and Shane Pandora Radio drowns out my thoughts and allows me to rest, somewhat, in the tranquility of another day being done and over with, gearing up for yet another to come.

But I've been so wrong. The past 4 months have been life-changing. My students and I have finally found a groove together, like mismatching puzzle pieces finally fitting together creating this beautiful picture of learning and love. I also became an engaged woman on the day of my last post (!) and have since been planning out the rest of our lives together with the help of my super cute and SUPER understanding fiancee. Things have changed so much, and with spring upon us I feel a sense of newness and rebirth around me. Feeling like I've been stuck behind a steering wheel trucking through mud with no end in sight, the sun has brought new ground to tread on. The road towards becoming a Godly wife, as well as learning fruits of the spirit such as patience, gentleness, and kindness through the everyday lessons God teaches me through my 20 students, has been challenging but sweet as honey.

I can't wait to begin finding, searching, clawing through the dirtiness of this world and seeing God EVERYWHERE in the midst of it all. For this world is full of brokenness, and broken things, and God is on a daily, hourly, every moment-ly mission to restore that brokenness and restore all things to himself. What a beautiful God we serve, and I hope to join in that mission well.

I have ten weeks left of this school year to find beauty and promise in my classroom, my students, my everyday life before summer comes. May the search begin; or, perhaps, may God begin his revealing power to show me his goodness!