Freedom 6 March 2017

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Freedom means that I can decide who I want to be and what I will do with my life. Freedom means I can state my opinion, but so can everyone else. Freedom means that I have to accept the fact that everyone is entitled to their own beliefs. Freedom means that my government does not dictate my home-life or family.

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Freedom means I have a responsibility to take care of what I’ve been given and what I’ve worked for. Freedom means making difficult choices and living with the consequences, good or bad. Freedom means that I can choose to start over every single day.

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Oh, and freedom means that I can eat ice-cream and cake for breakfast if I want to.

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Walking Dead B 2 March 2017

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The other students in my “Walking Dead” class (see yesterday’s post) had to learn a little something about being accepting. Every one of my special student’s writing started off, “So, we left off yesterday on season _, episode _.” Every student in there knew that it was a small miracle for this kid to write anything, let alone long missives about one topic that were very well-organized. I grew tired of their not-so-subtle moans when he would start to read. I wanted them to be more respectful of this young man and the struggle it was for him to get to this point. So one day, I wrote and shared this:

“Hardly anyone understands why I am so bothered by disrespect. When people can’t simply treat each other with courtesy, instead of always reacting with such negativity. Why should it bother you if I want to write about, say, my horse everyday? All you have to do is listen-or even just sit there and appear to listen. There is no need to make faces or unkind noises. I am not hurting you. Let’s just all show a little kindness because we can all use a bit more of that in our lives. So, make it your goal to be kind, even if you don’t like me.

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Jeez, we are all human after all.”

Since then, the murmurs have ceased, and we all look forward to the daily epistle. If fact, when I made the new deal about writing on my prompt twice a week and he is doing that, some of the other students complained that they missed an episode! Not to fear, he will catch us up the next day by writing double. And now, if I happen to be gone a day, he storms into my room the next day demanding to know where I was! You gotta love teaching.

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Classroom 1 March 2017

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It seems like I have more and more students each year who just don’t fit in socially. They do the most outrageous things to get the attention of their peers and teachers because they are so starved for attention. It’s just that they never consider that most of what they do pushes people away. It’s bravado for the most part because they have no confidence in who they could be.

I’ve found that starting class every day with silent

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writing is one way to give them some confidence and some ability to express who they are without any judgement and that includes grammar and mechanics. I have one very special individual this year. He and I butted heads from day one over writing. He refused to write. Period. And every time we ended up in the hall for a private conversation, his loud, unrepentant, and practiced crass voice carried as far as he could make it.

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One day, he came in my room to eat his lunch and he’s come in every single day since. Shocked, I asked him what was up. “I just like it in here.” I went back to my writing because I happened to be working on something for my creative writing class. Thus ensued a conversation about writing. I asked him if he could write about anything, what would it be and he told me, “The Walking Dead.” Okay, I say, then write about it. “Really?” Really, I say. I opened the rusty valve and he has written every day since.

When we came back from winter break, I told him he had to branch out some now. He could write about The Walking Dead three days a week and the other two, he had to at least consider my prompt. Deal.

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Two Poems 28 February 2017

img_1734I love this poetry form which is all about hands and what hands say about people. I wrote these two recently:

Robert has hands rough and worn from work. 

He turns the pages of the engine book gently, reverently.

Robert is a mountain in a snow storm.

“Why that no good rascal!” He says to the TV,

But then his eyes slide shut and drifts off.

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God’s hands must be so vast and limber.

He plucks certain stars to fall and forms tiny newborn lives.

God is the universe and the single cell.

“I made you from the dust of stars; I breathe through you.”

He reaches out to take my hand, but I am busy watching the glowing path of that falling star. 

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If Only 22 February 2017

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If only they would just do the simple things I ask, then they would be done. If only respect was practiced, then there wouldn’t be so much rudeness. If only a day had thirty hours, then I wouldn’t run out of time to get things done.

If only I could “think-cook” supper, then it would always be ready when I get home. If only I could have twenty-five horses to teach with, then my students would learn respect, responsibility and how to treat others, and they’d be outside. dscn0326

If only there were more books in the Harry Potter series, then I could read them. If only there were a barista outside my window, then I could have a mocha during my plan time. If only politicians were limited on how many ads they could run, then I wouldn’t be stuck with all their lame commercials.

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If only the moon shone bright every morning at four, then I could see the road better when I run. If only skunks weren’t so stinky and full of rabies, then I might think they were cute. If only I had a lighthouse on our farm, then I’d have a great studio to write in and look out of. Bonus: I could warn any ships about rocky shores.

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More Altered Books 20 February 2017

img_1718These are images from some of my students’ poetry in their altered book poetry projects. img_1722img_1717img_1716img_1724

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Altered Books 16 February 2017

img_1717My freshmen have been studying and writing poetry since we came back from winter break. At the outset I told them that when we got to the end, they would beg me to keep doing poetry. They scoffed and laughed and told me I was nuts. And true to who they want me to think they are, they whined and complained each and every day about having to write so much poetry, but img_1721they did and it was awesome.

The unit culminated in a poetry project. They had to create an anthology of their poems and present them in some creative way: a Google slides presentation, or a magazine format, or a poster, or an img_1716altered book. I showed them the awesome altered book a student had done last year and they were impressed. The majority of them went to the library to request, as I told them, “an altered book book.”

I received about eight posters and maybe nine Google img_1720slide presentation and the rest were blow me away altered books. And I was right, in their quiet “you haven’t hooked me” way, they begged me not to move on from poetry. Ha! Another bunch of recruits. I’ll add more photos tomorrow.

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Valentine’s Day 14 February 2017

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I love Valentine’s Day. I love the heart-shaped cookies and heart-shaped boxes of chocolate(especially dark!). I love the colorful cards and sappy sentiments. I love flowers and going out to dinner with my sweetheart and another couple of sweethearts!

I’ve already bought out the little candy hearts at the grocery store that have the short phrases on them.

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Those will become some of the corniest poetry ever in my classroom, and then we’ll eat the candy!

It’s a day to concentrate on the one you love, or the one you’d like to love. A day to make sure they know that they are your Valentine. A day to do one or two little things to make them feel special. A day to give thanks for them in

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your life.

There are those who “poo-poo” the commercialization of this day, but I bet they still get that special feeling inside when they receive a card or note from their beloved.

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Everyday Hero 13 February 2017

img_1613Right now, Robert is my hero. He goes out of his way to help, even though it isn’t always appreciated. He works hard, getting his own work done and putting that 2nd when someone else needs something. He does as much as he can for his family. He thinks ahead, trying to be sure everything is just right for cattle work, but still lets others change things if they think they may have a better way. Sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t.

If a friend or neighbor calls, he goes to help. If I need something, he does what he can to img_1197make my life easier. He is my hero. To me, everyday heroes make the difference in this world. Those who reach out a hand to someone in need, or take the time to listen when a friend needs to talk, or work hard to provide for their family, or simply hold another up in their daily prayers.

For me, heroes aren’t about glitz and glam, they are about putting others above them-self. They see that helping others in need helps us all. We live on a planet so beautiful and diverse, the only one that can sustain our life, such as it is. That is a miracle, yet we do not see it. We fight and bicker and nit pick our lives away and we only end up alone and tired. Let’s choose to be heroes instead.

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Trust 8 February 2017

dsc_0316What is trust? What does it mean to me? Trust is being able to count on someone not to lie, cheat, or steal to you, on you, or from you. Trust is knowing, without a doubt, that you can count on the person and share your inner most self with them. They will not forsake you, belittle you, talk behind your back, hide the truth from you, or walk out on you.

Trust: to place confidence; to commit or place in one’s care or keeping; to rely on the truthfulness of; assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something. (Webster, student edition)

If I trust you, then you are a trustee, someone who I’ve placed a trust in. So my definition img_1685from above fits: Trust is being able to count on someone not to lie, cheat, or steal to you, on you, or from you. Trust is knowing, without a doubt, that you can count on the person and share your inner most self with them. They will not forsake you, belittle you, talk behind your back, hide the truth from you, or walk out on you.

img_1568I haven’t experienced a lot of situations where my trust has been broken, but the ones I have known have been real doozies. Those broken dreams and my trashed heart have taught me, not necessarily to be more careful about who I trust, but rather to be more guarded personally. To be less open, more closed about who I am in the deepest sense my self. And the song plays on, “Leave it there, leave it there. Just take your burden to the Lord, Oh and leave it there.” Trust.

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