Where I’m From

 

I am from the dirt that my people sweep off their sidewalk.

From the streets of harsh death and life consuming drugs;

starvation and failure that makes helplessness seem like

a small stream of hope.

I am from back breaking work and tear streaked cheeks.

I am from rags and dirty hands.

From criticism and doubts that break your faith before you begin to believe

From encouragement and goals.

Rough hands and ink stained fingers.

I am from loud thoughts but quiet lips.

From polite smiles and meaningful looks.

I am from those who let go to be adopted by the better.

I am from a love greater than the heated passion and lust of two lovers.

From broken friendships and an incomprehensible excitement.

I am from the darkness consumed by those foul and sinister.

But brightened by the melodious words of those who believe.

I am from the misery that breaks you…

And the hope that keeps you alive.

 

Blanca Ruiz, Dumas High School

Published by permission © 2010

Rambling

I have got to be the world's worst when it comes to reading people. So, I guess I will just have to be me; to make the most of each day and leave the rest to the Lord. He cannot only read people well, but he also knows their heart. My goal: to truly take one day at a time and consider each moment precious. To let go and let God. (Be still and know that I am God.)

So hard to believe that the end of the school year is so close. First year teaching seniors, will definitely miss them once they graduate. Maybe the endings only enhance the beginnings. And thanks to memory, nothing ever really ends. At least not as long as memories remain strong. I hope as a teacher to create memories for others that make a positive difference in their lives and future endeavors.

To Write

Lord Byron:

But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling, like dew, upon a thought, produces
That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.

Musings

Contemplating a new school year, I realize that one of the true bonuses of teaching arises from the unique opportunity to begin fresh each year. A new set of students, a new set of possibilities.  I look forward to the opportunities that await.

I have never bought into the philosophy: “Don’t smile until Christmas break”.  What’s up with that?  Does someone really believe that there will be any true success with students who are simply afraid or feel absolutely no connection at all?  Gaining a student’s respect while keeping standards high creates a much stronger learning environment, both for the student and the teacher. 

So tomorrow we begin anew.  Who knows what the journey holds, but I definitely look forward to the travel, smiling along the way.

Actively Inactive

“Hey, Mom, I am here and I am fine.” So thankful. “Oh, but there was an accident right in front of me.”

”Wait, WHAT?” Heart drops, stomach tightens, nausea sets in – then pure and complete thankfulness – God is good. I can’t remember how many times I prayed for her as she traveled.

The hardest job I’ve ever had doesn’t consist of actively “doing” anything, but of letting go and allowing my child to “do” on her own. Sitting back and allowing is much, much more difficult than actively “butting in”.

Thank you, Lord for the avenue of prayer. And thank you for caring about my child even more than I do. Help me to remember this and know that I can ALWAYS have an active part in her life through prayer.

Unexpected Events

 

So, Matt and I finally get on a solid, consistent work-out schedule (at 5 each morning) only to drive into the parking lot on Thursday and find it dark (both the parking lot and the gym).  You’d think I would be shocked, frustrated yes, shocked, no.  This has actually happened to us once before in another Texas city. 

I will never understand why a club would just shut down without giving any kind of notice to its members.  I realize that life happens, but surely they had an idea that the gym would be closing before they actually locked the door and put up the sign.  Irritation set in.  We needed to remain on the schedule that was working for us and we needed a gym. Thankfully, there is the YMCA.  Still not knowing what was occurring with our previous gym, we signed up and began working out once again. 

But I can’t say I am sorry that we signed up for the gym.  That membership allowed us to begin working out together and save a puppy from certain death (but that’s a story for another blog).

We may never know why certain instances occur in our lives, but each helps to create a small piece of who we are and who we are to become.  How we choose to handle those instances and how we allow them to affect us – that is left up to each individual.  Life is never certain.  Thank goodness, if it was the road along our journey would be a pretty boring place.  And then it really would be the destination and not the journey that mattered.

Irony, Bradbury, Books

As technology continues its rapid and universal sweep throughout our country, I often wonder about what may be lost in the process. Now don't get me wrong, as I sit here and type this blog, I appreciate the ability to be able to type on a computer and post electronically. But I am worried that as with many aspects of our lives, we have lost the idea of balance. Ray Bradbury warns us over and over about this possibility through his works. He doesn't completely "diss" technology but cautions against what can be lost without a balance.

Ironically, it may eventually come to the point where his very cautions are relayed to the reader through technology itself. The newest technological "toy" allows one to download "books" onto an electronic hand-held device. I know for many this is ideal, and yes, it may take away the load of textbooks that students must carry back and fourth to school. But I am saddened by the possibility that an actual book may eventually become obsolete.

Maybe it has something to do with senses or that my eyes begin to blur and my head to hurt when I spend too long looking at a computer, but I want to be able to feel the book in my hands. From the crispness of the pages of a new novel to the soft, velvety feel of an well-worn book, I want the appeal to the senses that a bound book brings. I want to sit in a comfortable chair and hold the book (not the computer) in my hands. And what about pictures? Sure they can be added to the new techy book as well, but I will never forget the wonder and enjoyment of sitting with my child and reading a book with beautiful pictures, each of us holding a page in our hands.

Rambling thoughts, yes, but there is an essay in there somewhere. One that someday I will write. But until then, I just pray that should I attempt to publish those thoughts, there will still be a non-electronic book or magazine available in which to submit them.