Room 26

Pin It I packed up my room.

No, not my bedroom…my classroom.

As the items which made this room their home for the past several years found their way into boxes and were stacked up in the back, I could see nearly a decade of my life being put away with it. I found myself confronted by similar feelings to which I imagine Kathleen Kelly, the character in You’ve Got Mail, must have felt when her bookstore was closing down.

“Soon [I’ll] just be a memory. In fact someone, some foolish person, will probably think it’s a tribute to this [school], the way it keeps changing on you, the way you can never count on it, or something. I know, because that's the sort of thing I’m always saying. But the truth is; I’m heartbroken. I feel as if part of me has died, and no one can ever make it right.”

I know that this decision was mine and mine alone, however, how can one merely leave a place they’ve loved, had so many experiences in, and that has fundamentally changed their life?

You can’t.

I remember a friend of mine once saying, “You never truly leave a place you love. Part of it you take with you, leaving a part of yourself behind.”

It is at times like this that I question that statement. In time I will become nothing more than a faded memory…much like the faces of the past, those who’ve been a part of the school, but have faded into oblivion. Who knows these people now? Does anybody really care?

Such are the facedly-jaded moments of time which inevitably come to an end.

WE remember, but life does go on.

Today was hard and yet easy at the same time. We had graduation, photos were taken with students, and I found myself trying to prolong the inevitable…the closing down of the bookstore. As long as I was conversing with parents, having a photo taken with a student, or one of about a million other things, I was prolonging my time at the school which I’ve worked at for eight years.

However, like it inescapably does, the time came and then it passed. My life has been fundamentally changed and there is no going back. The items were moved, lights were turned off, farewells were spoken, and finally…the name plaque came down.

Room 26.

As I made ready to leave the room I found myself facing some writing left on the chalkboard by my students. It was with this that I felt a new emotion. I was not going to miss a room, but the people who made that room what it was. Like my longtime friend, Val Dixon, it is not her home which I love, but the family which make those four walls come to life.

A room is but a room.

I know that new adventures are waiting in the wings for their cue to take the center stage, but there is also a portion of my soul which dreads the change which the future is so eager to present to me.

“…my store is closing this week. I own a store. Did I ever tell you that? Probably not. It’s a lovely store—and in a week, it will be something really depressing, like a Baby Gap. I am being amazingly brave — ”

Nothing to report of value

Pin It

Well, it is officially late thirty and I am blogging while the video files render.

I wanted to write of today…nothing earth-shattering or really meaningful. Just to share.

I only had one contact in all day.

It was really annoying, yet, I didn’t want to take it out and have 100% terrible vision. I instead spent a good portion of the day looking like a pirate.

I have nothing else to say other than it is too late and it will be awhile before I get to sleep tonight.

Two days left.

Noted absence as of late

Pin It

Several people have mentioned that I have not been blogging as of late. I am sorry about this, however, with the onslaught of the end-of-year programs, activities, etc., I find myself pressed for time more than usual. Couple this with packing my classroom and getting ready to move to a new school in just a few more days and you’ve got yourself a busy schedule.

Of course, I am not implying that your schedules are not equally loaded down with various and sundry items.

I am sorry to those who’ve I’ve not had a lot of time for lately. This, of course, will remedy itself before long.

I did take a few minutes, just prior to sitting down to make this post, to sit out on my deck and listen to the wind blowing through the trees of my Olympic-sized backyard. I felt it gently turn my thoughts and speak of things which have long lain silent and forgotten.

I will return soon enough.

Until then, I remain respectfully yours,

Teachinfourth

I thought I was going to throw up…

Pin It It is a beautiful Saturday and I was finishing my standard reports. I also was having some difficulty with my laptop. I decided to format the hard drive, and reinstall the operating system.

I hooked up my external hard drive and began to back up files. You know, my professional photos, all of the sixth grade photos for the graduation video, and all the video files for not only graduation, but for my classroom DVD as well. I also had a treasure trove of files on this external drive including my trip whitewater rafting last summer with my friend, Ron Firmage, and my classroom website.

In a few words, there was a HUGE amount of data stored on this drive

When I restarted my computer and made ready to format, I noticed a second “hard drive.” Now, why would I have that? When it was formatted before, was an extra partition created to simulate an additional hard drive? Well, that might possibly help explain just why my laptop was running rather slowly, and a few items wouldn’t install properly.


I decided to delete the partition, format the drive completely, and then reinstall Windows. As I deleted the partition for the “D” drive, my eyes suddenly fell on my external hard drive near my computer. That is when the horrible realization hit me…I had deleted the partition on my external hard drive!

Now, you may be unsure what a partition is…in an easy word, a hard drive is like a large, dark warehouse. All of the files you store are kept here. The partition is like an index, or database, where a map is kept which tells your computer where to find the files on the hard drive. Without the partition and index, the computer wanders into the “storeroom” and finds nothing there.

I had deleted the map.

I felt horribly sick. I dropped to my knees as the realization of what I’d done washed through me like a tidal wave of dread. I had just destroyed hundreds—possibly even thousands—hours of work.

I just stared at the screen.

I had completely destroyed the final copies of over five hundred “professional” photographs I’d taken, about five hours of raw video footage, and files I need for graduation this week.

Not knowing what else I could do, I did a search online and downloaded a program which claims that it can restore data which has been lost….the program has now been running for over five hours and has only analyzed about 17 percent of the drive.

I am hopeful though…

I hope I don’t throw up.

The whiner

Pin It I had a grumbling student in my classroom the other day. He was complaining about everything he possibly could…and when he finally exhausted his list, then thought of a few more things, just too completely annoy me. I finally looked at this boy and said,

“Well, Joey. I certainly hope you don’t drown in your pool of self-pity.”

The brilliance of this statement caught me, and I started to laugh. I grabbed a sticky note and wrote this down as he watched me, undoubtedly wondering just why I was writing it down at all (amidst a few well-deserved chuckles). I quickly explained, “That was really good. Quite the zinger there, you know.”

He just stared.

I have a feeling he had no idea what it meant. Ah well, no matter. I did, and it was enough to make me smile. It almost made his complaining worth it.

Almost.

Say...

Pin It What is it that we want to say, and yet don’t to those around us? Will we live our lives with regret, or with contentment knowing that we’ve spoken those things we’ve wanted?

No, I am not planning on dying anytime in the near future, however, I was thinking of the mortality of those around us. It would be a real shame not to say what we need to say.

That is, while we can.



And just a side note, yes, this song had been added into my "Soundtrack of Life."

Making mistakes

Pin It I had a student in my class a few years ago…I’ll choose to call him, “Joey.”

Joey had a hard time for several years. He was the type of kid who was really smart, but lazy, and didn’t ever want to do anything. He wanted to get away with whatever he could, and would often use the right words with people to get his way.

He was really good at this.

I had this boy in my class, and from day one I tried to work with him. Did I do so every single day? No. Let’s be honest…there were a few days where it was more about survival, and just making it to the end of the day was the goal. However, did I work with him on a regular basis?

Yes. I did.

When he left my classroom I heard of problems he was still having, and things which weren’t so good in his life. You see, he was making a lot of poor decisions which, in turn, led to bigger and worse things in his life. It probably started off with lying and being dishonest with others, and this evolved into things I’ll not mention.

I got a call from a friend of mine who wanted to know if I’d seen Joey lately. I admitted that I hadn’t seen him for a few years, and had lost track of him. I came to find out that he’d made even more poor choices in his life, which have since led to him losing a lot of the freedoms which we take for granted.

In essence, his life is over.

I once heard the following quote, “Always Remember, no matter how bad you are, you are not totally useless. You can always be used as a bad example.”

I hope that my other students can learn from his mistakes…

Windows open and music on

Pin It

I drove to work today. As I did, I cranked Avril Lavigne’s song, “My World,” on the stereo. It was a good driving song…the type you listen to with the windows down, and the wind blowing in your face.

I also recommend “Dancing in the Moonlight” by the Baha Men.

However, Barry Manilow just won’t quite cut it.

A poorly-spent Saturday of time

Pin It

How does one arrive at a point like this in their life? Well, probably because of friends, right? After all, isn’t it our friends that get us into the most trouble in our lives, as well as encourage us to start Breaking Free out of our comfort zones? I think it comes from that “All for One” mentality we seem to be so anxious to subscribe to.

As I stood in line among the others present, I found myself sweating under the suffocating feeling of my sports coat and tie. My class had just had a lesson on how darker colors absorb more sunlight and reflect less…hence, making them a lot warmer than clothes with lighter colors.

So, was I hot? Bet on It.

After waiting for nearly ½ of an hour the line entered the building. As it did I thought to myself, Now this is What I’ve been Looking For—an area a little bit cooler! I quickly joined the appropriate line, signed the consent forms, and was shuttled into the auditorium

Directions were shouted from the man with the megaphone that we were going to have a Fabulous time. However, I could only understand only about half of what he was saying to be honest. But as I sat there, I did have a feeling that this was the Start of Something New for me in my life.

My friend and her kids were in the “red” section of the auditorium and I was told that I’d be fine in the multicolored section for now. I could just wait for the moment I was needed from there. It was at this point that I sat for quite some time, before being directed to the main room. I walked across the campus and entered the adjacent building to a tumult of noise, and found myself being transferred from place to place. At first I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to be, or what I was supposed to be doing. And, let’s be honest, nobody in charge seemed to know either, and I kept being told one thing and then another…I finally was told that they would Work This Out, and that I should just have a seat and to wait until I was needed.

Fine. I thought. I Don’t Dance to this beat anyway.

One hour rapidly turned into twelve. I finally thought, I’m not going to Stick to the Status Quo anymore. I’m sick and tired of being here! I’ve been sitting here for 12 hours! It’s time that I Gotta Go My Own Way…no matter what anybody says.

So, I changed into a blue shirt and a pair of jeans and joined the cheering crowd without anyone noticing me doing so. It would figure…I was standing in an area that would probably be unseen anyhow. Maybe there was a way I could Bop to the Top area where everybody else was standing, and be seen better from there. I changed my mind. All I wanted at this point was to go home…

What Time is It by now, you ask? 12:30...AM!

After a few more grueling minutes, we were told that we were finished and finally allowed to go home. I felt so grateful to be leaving. Grateful that I didn’t have to do this Everyday of my life. I don’t think I could handle it…I’d probably kill myself.

As I checked out and walked to my car, I realized that everybody has days like this…days where they spend their time in a way that is not the best possible. I guess We’re All in this Together when it comes to time poorly spent.

And that, is how I spent my Saturday.

Downpour

Pin It What do you do when the music grabs you and just won’t let go? Do you fight it? Or do you let it sweep you away?

As of late the torrents in my head play like music of an unchained orchestra. They surround me, they fill me to capacity, and they consume me.

I choose to ride the winds...

Family photo

Pin It This is a recent version of a family photo I took. I am pretty proud of it with the layout and just wanted to show off. There is no other reason for this post.

By the way, I'm pretty humble too...I'll tell you all about it sometime.

Oh, one more quick thing; those aren't their real names either. Sorry, blog stalker and lurker-types.

What's cooler than being cool?

Pin It I saw a student at my school who was sitting up against the wall, crying.

“What’s the matter, Joey?” I asked.

“Some kids made fun of me on the playground.”

“Now why would they do that?”

The tears started to flow. “They told me I shouldn’t be wearing sunglasses. They said, ‘Why are you wearing sunglasses? Are you trying to be cool? Because you’re not!’”

Face was buried in hands once more, and crying commenced. “I told them that everybody in the world is trying to be something they’re not, so it’s okay for me too…they just laughed at me and said I’d never be cool.”

I sat down next to Joey.

“So what gives these three other kids the power to decide who is and who isn’t cool?” I asked. “Why do you believe that they can choose who or what you are?

“I don’t know…”

“Well, I think you’re pretty cool…and whose opinion is more important to you? Mine, or theirs?”

“Well, yours, Mr. Z.”

“You know what it is that really makes a person ‘uncool’, Joey?”

Shrug.

“Somebody who makes fun of others, hoping that their fellow loser friends will think they’re cool…now that is waaaayyyy uncool in my eyes.”

“Really?”

“Yep.” I smiled.

“These glasses are pretty cool, you know.”

“Yep, but not as cool as the kid wearing them.”

Writing update - The book…

Pin It Well, I have realized that I still have a long way to go with my story before I allow this thing to traverse into the halls of publication.

This realization came when I started to read it aloud to my class the other day. Whoa…does this story NOT flow well when read aloud! It amazes me just how much I tried to “bring the reader” into the story through detail, and this actually bogged down the flow of the thing altogether.

So, what does this mean? Well, for starters it entails a major rewrite of the story, and the cutting out of a lot of unneeded text. Nip here, tuck there, flesh it out a little in a few spots as well.

Final prognosis? The patient is doing well, but is in for some serious rehab…

It’ s just a little bit odd

Pin It I pulled up to the gas pump.

The fuel gauge on my car read, “Empty.” So I wouldn’t be able to put it off any longer…not that I wanted to; I just hate those long lines that inevitably form at the Sam’s Club Gas Station.

When my turn arrived I hopped out of my car, membership and credit cards both ready and waiting. You see, I have a pattern, as I don’t like it when people pull up to the pump and then spend the next five minutes just trying to find what they need, forcing me to watch them in their ineptitude.

I’d rather eat shards of broken glass.

But as I said, I have a pattern: I pop the “fuel release” button as I jump out of the car, slide my membership card in at the pump, remove the fuel cap, insert my debit card, grab the nozzle, insert it into the car, select my fuel grade, and then begin to refuel my vehicle…this whole process takes less than thirty seconds.

As I was in the middle of my well-rehearsed routine, I noticed it…no, it wasn’t the $3.50+ cost for gas, but the fact that here I was, surrounded by other people getting fuel, and not one of us was speaking to each other. The woman on the other side of the pump was busy trying to get her card to work; the man in front of me had climbed back in his car…even though there were notices everywhere advising motorists to stay outside of their automobiles when refueling. Behind me was a line of three other vehicles, all waiting their turn at the pumps, each of them currently watching the “Zimmerman Show.” I did my best at leaning up against my car and trying to act cool…after all, if they wanted to watch somebody, I’d give them something to look at.

It’s all about eye candy.

As the pump continued to produce fossil fuels—as well as drain away my bank account—I spoke to no one. Nobody spoke to me. When my $50 purchase was completed, I quickly removed the hose, put the fuel cap back on, and re-hung the nozzle, leaping in my car and pulling away…

…still having spoken to nobody.

Now, just why do we do this? My only guess is that getting fuel is so personal of a thing that we just cannot share this experience with anyone else. OR perhaps it is instead that our collective breaths are taken away by what getting fuel really means...


Either way, it’ s just a little bit odd.

Speechless...

Pin It

What more can I say?

Kind of leaves you speechless, doesn’t it?

IF that can’t, then I have a feeling that this will...

It just slipped out...

Pin It I stood between the two boys on the playground. It was obvious that they were still upset with each other, and that’s when it slipped out.

I didn’t mean for it to…it just did.

“Would Jesus do that?” I couldn’t believe it, the second the words left my mouth, something inside of my brain seemed to register what I’d just said.

Goodbye separation of church and state.

Well, it wasn’t as if I’d planned on saying it, right? I had been almost tricked into saying it, really. As I’d listened to the two boys complain about each other, and why they’d each done what they did, the conversation kept coming back to: “Well, during Scouts at the church…” and “At church he said this when we were in Scouts…” There was so much talk about church going on that I couldn’t help saying what I did, right?

Well, now that I’d said it I thought, “Holy cow! What do I do now?” Well, there was nothing which could be done at this point other than to run with it…

“Well, Joey?” I asked again. “If Jesus were here would he have been making fun of Sam when he couldn’t throw the ball? Could you see him yelling, ‘Hey, Sam! You’re a loser head! You can’t do anything right!’?”

Joey looked at me with wide eyes. “Well, no. Jesus wouldn’t do that.”

I turned to Sam. “And Sam,” I said slowly. “If Jesus were here would he start pushing people around and hitting them?”

How could you argue with that? Who can argue with Jesus? That’s right…nobody. Nobody can mess with the Big J!

Sam also looked to the ground, as if wishing it would swallow him up. “No, Jesus wouldn’t do that to anybody.”

“Well,” I said, feeling like I were once-again a primary, instead of school teacher. “If Jesus wouldn’t do that stuff, why do you two do it to each other?”

Both boys looked at me, each other, and then back at the ground.

“I wonder what I should do,” I said, eyeing them both. “It would be easy for me to just give you both an action slip and then be done with it. However, I don’t know if that would solve the problem. After all, you two would still go on secretly hating each other, wouldn’t you?”

The boys stared blankly at me as if into an oncoming headlights of a Mack Truck.

“So you tell me what to do. Do you want to work it out, or should I just give you each an action slip?”

More silence.

“Well, it looks like I get to choose.” I said. “I guess it’s action slips for both of you.”

Sam looked devastated, but Joey replied, “But Jesus wouldn’t do that either.”

Touché

Okay, I have to admit, I made up the last three lines; mostly because it was a lot funnier than what really happened. As it turns out the boys decided to work it out, and then be “sort of” friends after that. However they did promise not to be mean to each other anymore…this was fine with me because I really didn’t want to be dealing with this problem in the first place.

We ended the peace talks with vows to be better toward each other. At this point I gave the ole’ “you-guys-can-do-better” pep-talk. We ended with a group hug, and then went back to our classes all feeling a little more loved and understood.

After all, that’s what Jesus would have done.

Why teaching?

Pin It “Mr. Z?”

I turned to my student who stood before me. “What’s up?” I asked, putting aside the papers I’d been correcting.

“Did you always want to be a teacher?”

I sat back in my chair. “Why do you want to know this?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve just always wondered.”

I took a deep breath. Now, just how to answer this? Should I be honest? It would probably be much more fun to tell him that I’d considered becoming a mortician or perhaps a professional food taster.

I went with honesty.

“No, I could get another job if I had wanted to. In fact, wanted to be an author…or maybe a movie director.”

“Really? Can teachers do that?”

“Yep, it’s perfectly legal.”

My student walked away, shaking his head saying something like, “Whoa…I didn’t know that.”

It was this small conversation which brings me to today’s blog…just why did I choose teaching out of all of the professions I could have for my life? I’ve thought about that question quite a bit over the years to tell you the truth. I believe it stems back about forty or fifty years ago when I was a missionary. I had been sent to Missouri with the idea that I would return to Washington after two years and become a successful author, touring around the United States to promote my new books and to do signings. Of course, there’d be the world premieres of movies my books had been adapted into…in fact, I had already completed over half of a screenplay for “Take the Long Way Home.”

Yes, I was going to be famous.

While living in Poplar Bluff (Pop-lar bluff…not Pop-U-lar Bluff) one of my companions and I started volunteering at Sacred Heart Catholic School. My companion and I helped out in many different classrooms from 1-6^th grades, however, it was here that I became acquainted with Ruth Trotter, first grade teacher extraordinaire.

I wish there were words to express how I felt in the presence of this woman. She was nothing short of amazing. I looked forward to working each week with the kids at SH, but none more than the 1^st graders of Mrs. Trotter’s classroom. On every visit I’d be tutoring kids on Math facts, fluency, or reading aloud to them. It was a high point of each week for me, and the more time I spent in Mrs. Trotter’s presence, the more I began to realize that I loved teaching.

When I was moved to another area (after 9 months) I couldn’t foget the experiences I’d had in working with students and how much fun it was. When I came home another 9 months later, I enrolled in college to finish my general education classes. When thinking of career paths which I might follow, only one stood out.

Education.

People have often asked me why I decided to become a teacher. I’d often joke that it was for the big money to be made, and all of the single female teachers. It really isn’t though. It’s for the students I get to see grow on a daily basis. Some of these kids take a little bit longer than others, but I see nearly all of them grow and change. They come into my classroom as little kids, and leave as middle-schoolers.

I will forever be thankful to the teachers I’ve had in my life which made a positive impact on me.…Otamay Hushing, Robin Flickinger, Sherri Frizzell, Ed Mooney, and most importantly, Ruth Trotter. As I look back on old photos of my first days as a teacher, I think of these kids who are now much older than they were as 3^rd or 4^th graders. I think of these students, who one day, when somebody asks them, “Who was your favorite teacher?” Will respond…

“Mr. Z.”

Thanks, Mrs. Trotter.

My friends, Jan and Hazen.

One of my "first" teaching experiences.

Father Mike McDivitt, Hazen, & I.

Sacred Heart Catholic School.

For Taylor

Pin It I have a friend. I’ll choose to christen this friend as “Taylor” so as to protect their identity (also, this is a gender-neutral name which does well, and suits my purpose). Anyhow, I was recently visiting with my friend and realized that they were at a point of breaking; and many around them do not realize this…after all, Taylor wears a painted smile each day, and they lie…saying that everything is fine in their life.

However, I don’t believe that that is really the case.

I write this blog for Taylor, after all, Taylor you know who you are. However, since this is also a public forum, anyone else is welcome to read it as well.

Dear Taylor,

I am writing to let you know that it’s going to get better. The moments happening right now are just that—moments; before you know it these will be in the past, and you’ll wonder how you ever let them bother you at all. I also wanted to remind you that inside of all these terrible experiences there is not only hurting, but opportunities to be refined and to grow. Just think of how much wisdom you are cultivating because of these challenges you now face!

Do you remember when you were growing up and you felt that you were being punished for no reason? No matter what your parents said, you just couldn’t see how these were helping you or were to your benefit. I’m sure you realize now, just how much these were helping to shape you into the wonderful person you are. These “terrible” moments refined a person who may not have been so great otherwise.

Take advantage of these small moments of timespace, because once this day is over and done, it is gone forever. It will never return to you; this includes good times as well as the bad. Try to seize that which is good in each day, and let the bad things go. In the future you’ll cherish these memories, and will (for the most) only remember the good portions.

Also, never forget that whenever you are feeling low, you’ve got a Friend; One who cares about you and wants the best for you. He is always there, and you don’t need a cell phone plan to talk to him. He’s really a good listener. However, for those times which you just feel you need to talk to somebody else, just know that I’m always here as a backup.

Never forget, you’ve got a friend.

I love to breathe

Pin It

I noticed an old as I drove. He was old…a lot older than I. He smiled as he walked…he seemed happy.

I saw a group of boys today as I drove too. They were younger than I, and yet…they did not seem happy…

Youth.
Age.
Moments.
Life.

Our lives are made to be lived and enjoyed; yet, do we live them to the fullest? I’m not talking about driving big cars, having a plethora of money, or lots of cool “toys.” I’m instead talking about enjoying all of our small moments…those tiny, inconsequential instants of each day.

Do we appreciate the sunlight as well as the rain? We do see the joy and beauty which each of them bring, and take pleasure in them for what they have to offer?

When I went outside after work today it was nice—like a breath of much-needed air.

I love to breathe.

I drank it all in.

Let it rain

Pin It My head is full of reflections tonight; these tumble about in my head like the crystalline rushing of a mountain stream over a bed of smoothly-worn stones of thought.

I’ve come to realize just that life is much too short to live in apprehension, cowering with the fear of rejection, and listening to the whining of that little incessant voice in the back of our minds which whispers, “You just can’t do it.”

Who’s to stop me?

Probably just me, after all, I’ve done it numerous times before. I’m good at it too…too good to be exact.

The waters rush on as I stare at my computer screen tonight. As I do, I realize that there will be so much more to consider in the waters, what with the oncoming of the rain in the distant mountains.

Luckily, I do have an umbrella.

Let it rain.

Writing update - Alone in a room

Pin It I came to the Orem library to work.

I came here to find a few new books on CD which I could listen to while driving during the week.

I also came to write on a few of my stories.

I looked again at the self-publication website and contemplated further what I’d only briefly considered last night.

As I sat here in the “book discussion” room, I found myself alone and removed from the rest of the world for nearly three hours. Three blissful hours of time in which to work…

No distractions.

No bothersome calls

Nobody trying to talk to me.

Writer’s block?

Yes.

Writing update - Me? A published author?

Pin It

I returned home from an evening out with some dear friends.

I checked my blog.

I had a few comments, which I proceeded to read. Nestled amongst them was a remark from my sister, Miya. She left me a link to a self-publisher known as Outskirts Press.

I thought about it…

I thought long and hard about submitting…something.

I just don’t know about this though. I did a little figuring and discovered that my book, “Take the Long Way Home,” would be in the vicinity of 129 pages if published as a 8.5” x 5.5” book…which would run about $5.00 in cost for each copy printed, plus the cost of set-up, barcode fees, as well as about a thousand other “small” charges which—amazingly—drives up the cost by $1,000.

Though it would be grand to have one of my books published, going this route could very well turn out to be a pretty expensive endeavor.

I guess I don’t know if it is really good enough to be published…or worth this cost. The story was written awhile ago, and probably still needs a million things fixed/added/changed…

I just don’t know…