September Prayers

I hope...

I find a way to connect with each and every one of them.

I earn their respect, but also their love.

I am able to thoroughly prepare them academically, emotionally, and behaviorally for the grades to come, and, ultimately, life.

they will fall in love with learning simply because learning feels wonderful!

I provide opportutnies for every child to take his/her thinking to the "next" level.

my efforts to assimilate them into school culture won't leave a bad taste in their mouths about school or learning. I desperately hope that in teaching them "how to be" in school, I am still able to nurture their creativity and sense of fun.

I will help them be better people (and that I will model the traits I often preach but don't always practice - such as patience, kindness, compassion, and respect...)

the parents of my students will be glad their child was in my class.

What happened there?

"This is Sherry and this is Jessica. They used to be my Bible study teachers, but now they don't believe in God."

How's that for an introduction?

As I was sitting on the couch, a girl sat down next to me. She said, "You used to be Meghan's Bible study teacher, but now you don't believe in God. What happened there?"

She was attempting to sound casual, but I knew better. I am almost positive that I detected the slightest bit of tension in her voice; the kind of tension that comes from trying to be lighthearted about something that isn't in the least bit light. I knew where she was going because it wasn't long ago that I was in her shoes. I can clearly remember feeling a tremendous, overpowering sense of responsibility for witnessing to the "lost". And, for a Christian, there are few things more deeply disturbing than a fellow follower who has lost her way. There is the undeniable urge to fix, the thought that a few well-spoken words, a bit of scripture, and perhaps a personal testimony will set the person back on the path towards righteousness.

It's not that I don't want to believe. I miss believing that my life had a special purpose, and I miss the comfort that comes from believing that everything happens for a reason. When I believed in God, I found such comfort in knowing that He was only a prayer away. I was never truly alone. It didn't matter that I didn't know what the Plan was or how we were going to get there. I just had to trust that He knew.

I didn't choose to walk away from the faith because I didn't like being told what to think or how I should behave. The truth is that a big part of me wishes that I could believe. I've realized, little by little, that despite wanting to believe, I simply can't. My prayers were a monologue and, aside from me, there was no one else listening. I'm in a place now where I truly believe that I can no more go back to believing in God than I can go back to believing in Santa.

This is the first time that I've faced a loss since I stopped believing in God. I wish I could look her in the eyes and say, "I'll see you soon. This isn't goodbye forever."

But, deep in my heart, I'm afraid that it is.

If you ever wondered about my sanity...

One of the things that I like most about David Sedaris is his honesty about living in a world of fantasy. His accounts of his wild fantasies are both hilarious and comforting (because mine are never quite as bizarre as his). I am constantly dreaming about the most ridiculous things. As I clean my house, I daydream about my dream house. Currently, it's two sprawling stories nestled on 3 acres of highly landscaped splendor. It has 5 bedrooms and 4 1/2 baths. We have an office, a playroom/game room, and a movie room. We also have gigantic, ultra-organized walk-in closets, a large kitchen pantry, and a sizable laundry room. Did I mention that a professional cleaning team comes to clean my dream house once a week? The great thing about this team of cleaners is that they all have severe OCD. They clean my home as if it was their own, right before important, highly judgmental company is about to come and stay with them for 2 weeks. THAT is how thoroughly they clean my home. Because of their disorder and personal interest (those visiting relatives), they literally cannot rest until even the most forgotten and remote of places sparkle and shine. Sometimes, I snap out of my fantasy and find that I have been scrubbing the same exact spot on the counter for five minutes, without pause. My eyes have glazed over, and I have to blink several times to rewet my contacts. Sometimes I fantasize about the growth of the business. I detail the number of employees and their specialities. Other times, I dream about discovering some amazing teaching practice about which I write several best selling books. I then tour the country. I am a dynamic speaker, and other teachers dream of being as inspiring and effective as I. I call this the "Debbie Miller Dream". Sometimes, I'm the author and illustrator of children's books. Children love my books, and I get to work from home in my pajamas. Then, there's the fantasy that I am an incredibly talented painter and photographer. I have monthly showings at various galleries, where my work sells for thousands of dollars a piece. I even fantasize about being more well-read. My monthly reading list includes the biographies and autobiographies of important world leaders, studies of various world cultures, books about history and science, comparisons of world religions, intellectual analyses of fine art, and, of course, professional reads related to improving my knowledge of good pedagogy. It's so nerdy! And... sick. In reality, I'm lucky if I read 1 or 2 books in a given month, and they are typically enjoyable but usually leave me no more intelligent or informed than I was before. But in my dreams... I am an intellectual giant.

thanks, Gavin, for opening my eyes

Perhaps it's the doom and gloom surrounding education; perhaps it's the fact that I'm sick (AGAIN); perhaps it's the exhausting coworkers. I have been in such a negative place and I just can't seem to shake it. Tonight, as I was driving home, Bush was playing on the radio. "If I had it all again, I'd change it all." Would I change it all? I would... definitely not. I started thinking about all of the things I'm grateful for, starting with a couple of huge life mistakes that almost were (please see #1 and #2). I would definitely not change items 1-3.

1. I'm thankful that I didn't marry Ben.

2. Or Brad, for that matter.

3. I'm thankful that I did marry Kevin :-).

4. I'm thankful that I don't have to look at a devil tattoo on my body each day.

5. I'm thankful for Daniel Dayton, for talking me out of said tattoo.

6. I'm thankful for seeing my friends Saturday, even though I was exhausted and grumpy from taking care of Nolan all day by myself. After being sent home the day before for tossing my cookies. Three times. I needed to remember that I actually like other human beings.

7. I'm thankful for Nolan, even though I'm not always as good at being a mom as I should be.

8. Even though I don't always love my job, I'm glad that I have one. And, even though it means that I'm by myself a lot, I'm glad that Kevin has one, too.

9. I'm thankful that I have such sweet students. I enjoy laughing with them. And... learning with them. I like that, too.

I've had a rough night

Tonight, as Kevin and I were cooking dinner, a large amount of bacon grease leapt from the skillet onto my hands and, most painfully, face. Instantly, I burst into tears. I started crying and I couldn't stop. All night. It's not just that my face hurts. I think I'm just feeling really raw about the state of education, the loss of jobs, and the lack of accountability. I'm also really mad at the bacon. I realize that if anyone should be irrate, it's the pig who had to give his life so I could eat him. But still. My eyelid nearly got burned off and education is fucked. This is a bad week.

Thoughts

When people say, "you do the math", I'm pretty sure they're actually saying, "I actually can't do the math myself."

Yay for finally figuring out the right username and password combo. I'm back! Good things to come. Well, things to come.