Tag: Student

Becoming, Childhood, Creativity, Daily Round, Education, Family, Gardening, Gifts, Gratitude, Healing, Home, Hope, Learning, Love, Nature, Noticing, Ritual, Slow Life, Spirit, Spring, Student, Teacher, Wholeness

Gardeners, All

by Kitty8 Comments on Gardeners, All

DSCF4107Such a splendid week we’ve had at Full Moon Cottage! We’ve been breathing gratitude, along with the sweet scent of geosmin, the organic compound released by active little actinomycetes as the earth reheats in spring. Like earth’s signature sachet, it evokes a million memories of gardens I’ve tended and loved since I was a child. DSCF4112The comforting reliable signposts assuring us that spring has arrived and is busily establishing her known rhythms has caused our enthusiasm and energy levels to rise like sap and respond by honoring the rituals this time of year calls forth: opening windows, cleaning and winnowing through closets, washing rugs and curtains, and going outside as often as possible to notice homecomings and welcome back old friends. DSCF4233 DSCF4265The Canada Geese and Sandhill Cranes have been winging in on great southerly winds crying out, “Here we are! Here we are!” The male birds—cardinals, chickadees, flickers, jays–are establishing territories and will be seeking mates for nesting, so I’m scattering pet hair and dryer lint, and continuing to fill the feeders. Our owls make their presence known, as do the bossy crows, and this morning, Phillip heard a robin’s song. DSCF4171 DSCF4173The river’s coat of ice is melting away. A lack of winter snow has caused the water level to be quite low this year, so we’re hoping for rains, but just to see the water sparkle in sunlight touches and begins to thaw every frozen particle lodged in our winter hearts. The long months of chilled confinement have ended; winter’s dark and snarled mind knots loosen and dissolve, allowing our spirits to flow. We’ve been laughing more this week. DSCF4223It’s too soon to get into the gardens, but at least I can see them again, and am trying to locate the very detailed list I made last autumn of all the uprooting, dividing, and replanting I had planned for this spring. Of course, first, we have to wait and see who did, and who did not, survive the bitter cold and lack of adequate snow cover we experienced until late winter. Ever hopeful.

I remember my first garden, when I was about eight, and the deep joy I felt planting my bachelor buttons, moss roses, zinnias, and cosmos. Every morning, for weeks, I dashed from bed to garden, pajama-clothed and barefoot—a habit that endures—to examine the earth for signs of green life. I weeded and watered and spent most of that summer immersed in “my” garden, as I have ever since. Daddy had encouraged this, utterly, and supported my dreams of color and blossom; Mama didn’t garden, but supported everything that gave me joy. I took it for granted that everyone had parents who so lovingly tended their dreams. DSCF4082 DSCF4086 Until I can grab a rake and trowel and get going this spring, my garden jones is satisfied at school, where, led by our intrepid team of visiting Master Gardeners, we’ve spent a few weeks planning, and are now planting seeds for this year’s garden. The little pots will sit in long trays on counters in the school’s basement, warmed by grow lights and watered from the bottom. DSCF4088 DSCF4089It gladdens my heart to see how joyfully and naturally the children connect with these activities. They cannot always name the steps or tools involved in gardening, or even evidence familiarity with the resulting food, but they so merrily dig into buckets of soil and so tenderly plant seeds in tiny, plastic earth-filled homes. I think there’s nothing so healing, creative, or natural as gardening.  

The children’s spirits have been thawing, too, and warmer days have increased their energy, and the need for its release and creative expression. Their city skyline artwork turned out beautifully. DSCF4035 DSCF4037 DSCF4038 DSCF4044I was stopped in my tracks, though, when more than one child asked where in their skyline the jail should be represented, or a child showed me his city and identified a building as “the prison.” Once again, I was reminded that the familial, reliable, and seasonal rhythms in which I have always taken comfort and joy are very different from those circumscribing the lives of many of my students. Sometimes their behavior is angry and puzzling, and then comments like these reveal the missing pieces, and my heart breaks open, creating spaces for new seeds of understanding to be planted.

Phillip and I talk, often, of our students and the ways we might touch their spirits and hearts, and give them hope, or a bit of light to companion their journeys. It’s not likely they’ll remember us, but will they remember that a teacher once told them how special, and precious, and gifted they are? When they doubt their purpose, or lose their way, or struggle to make the right choice, will they feel rooted in courage and reach for a light-filled path? DSCF4229Breathing in the wonders and invitations of spring, I’m reminded that we are all stewards of each other as well as of the earth, and that how we prepare, nurture, and tend one another’s spirits is our calling as humans and, certainly, as teachers. Not everyone was gifted with present and loving parents who cultivated their gifts and wonder from the beginning, and we all have dark spaces that can be filled with self-doubt and self-loathing, or planted with promise and loved into bloom. DSCF4125 DSCF4126 DSCF4129We may never see the amazing blossoms and glorious results we have helped create, never be identified as one of the gardeners, but we must, over and over, plant the seeds of possibility, expectation, and affirmation, and shower them with love. DSCF4066Ever hopeful; gardeners, all.

Merry new spring and joyful planting! DSCF3682

 

© Copyright of all visual and written materials on The Daily Round belongs solely to Catherine M. O’Meara, 2011-Present. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited, without Catherine O’Meara’s written approval. No one is authorized to use Catherine O’Meara’s copyrighted material for material gain without the author’s engagement and written permission. All other visual, written, and linked materials are credited to their authors.

Becoming, Education, Learning, Student, Teacher

When the Teacher is Ready

by Kitty16 Comments on When the Teacher is Ready

 

When I was a teacher, this was a bittersweet time of year. Spacious summer days were diminishing to the daily routine circumscribed by hourly school bells and small boxes in a big book of lesson plans reduced further to prescribed goals, but balanced by the excitement, love, and mystery generated by discovering unique teacher-student relationships and the prospect of a wide-open new year of traveling together in our learning.

I sensed this meeting of beginnings and endings in my husband’s energy as he bustled to complete house and garden projects before rejoining his faculty this past week.

I already miss Phillip’s constant easy presence and the time for spontaneous adventures we’ve enjoyed during his summer break, and sometimes I miss teaching…not the endless meetings or the mind-numbing impediments bureaucrats use to block the profession’s creativity and growth, but the intimacy of relationships, the give and take, the teaching and learning and surprises each year brought.

One of the lovely gifts derived from my many years of teaching has been the joy of watching my former students blossom into maturity, becoming parents, professionals, and compassionate adults. Many of them e-mail me, or let me know through social media how they’re doing and I’m always happy to hear from them.

Then, there’s Kate.

Kate has always been more than a student to me…she stole my heart even before she entered my classroom. At this time, I worked at a small school, grades K-8, and we had the luxury of watching students “grow up,” knowing their families, and forming strong teacher-student-parent relationships.

One day I was outside, monitoring the playground during the noon hour, and Kate arrived at my side, a curious, opinionated, funny, and bright 7-year-old. Some kismet brought us together. I was charmed, and although professional discretion was always honored between us, she somehow became one of those happy students who visited my classroom after school to tell me about her day, or share her ideas about books, or films. I can’t even remember now if I left that teaching position before she was actually my student, or if I served as her teacher when she began middle school.

At some point as she finished middle school, Kate began writing me e-mails, updating me about her learning and life as a student, and we kept up this correspondence through her high school and college years. Occasionally, we’d meet for lunch, or go on an adventure, and I’ll always remember her kindness in visiting my mother at the dialysis center. She’s always seemed a merry “old soul” to me.

Her wonderful parents invited us to Kate’s college graduation party, and I gave her a printed copy of our years of e-mails, chronicling her wonderful development into a mature young woman, one who has since moved to the East Coast and begun her professional career as an editor.

She was home this weekend, and I was deeply touched that she saved a day to visit me.

She is not my daughter, but over the years, Kate has taken up residence in that part of my heart I always reserved for the daughter I’d hoped to have.

It may be, as the proverb states, that when the student is ready, the right teacher will appear, but I count my blessings that one day on a school playground, something in my spirit and heart made me ready to welcome Kate into my life. She has taught me so very much, and I am grateful. The best relationships have this reciprocal flow of learning and teaching between those involved, I think.

So I send my blessing to all teachers as they begin a new school year, especially the dear souls who continue to live out this profession in my home state, where the past few years have brought denigration to their efforts. Budgets and programs are cut, classrooms are overcrowded, collective bargaining is destroyed, and salaries and benefits are precarious.

But you show up. You plan and hope and open the door every morning, welcoming the happy, the sad, the hungry, the lost, the eager and bright…and you supply what you are able, and more. You feed their minds, and their hearts, and their spirits, sometimes at the expense of your own.

I wish you a year of gentle peace, happy surprises, sustained energy, and compassionate relations…and I wish all of you students like Kate, who come to learn, but end up teaching you more about your own journey than you could have expected.

 

© Copyright of all visual and written materials on The Daily Round belongs solely to Catherine M. O’Meara, 2011-Present. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited, without the author’s written approval. No one is authorized to use Catherine O’Meara’s copyrighted material for material gain without the author’s engagement and written permission. All other visual, written, and linked materials are credited to their authors. Thank you, and gentle peace.

Daily Round, Spirit Level, Teacher

Not Just a Teacher

by Kitty5 Comments on Not Just a Teacher

Early Saturday morning, Phillip and I sat together sharing coffee and one of our “good visits,” before we each lapsed into the comfortable silence long years of loving relationship can invite. Eventually, I asked him what he was thinking about.

“Pencils,” he said.

“Pencils?” Where could this be leading?

“Yeah…I was wondering why one of my kids never has a pencil in class.” He paused. “Is it because his family is too poor? Can they really not afford pencils?”

My husband teaches science in a small-town high school. He chose the district because of its small size, believing it would give him opportunities to know the students, their families, and his colleagues, that a mega-school in a sprawling district wouldn’t afford. In our state, this meant a lower salary than a wealthy, larger district could pay, but Phillip really wanted the sense of community and collegiality, so he took less pay and has been happy with his work and his colleagues.

He is a good teacher: eloquent, elegant, and focused on his students’ sense of confidence and delight for a subject area that gives Phillip joy, but what is most indicative of his approach as an educator is this sense of deep compassion for his students’ well-being, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

He’ll tease and joke with his students, but he will never bully, embarrass, or humiliate them. He’ll hold them accountable to high expectations for learning the material and fairly grade their effort, but students who earn low grades are as likely to hang around Phillip’s room before and after school as are the students who excel. He’s taught guitar to kids who asked to learn, not for a fee or because it was required of him, but because he wants his students to name and develop their gifts, whether those gifts are specifically science-related or not.

Last week, Phillip gracefully agreed to wear a ridiculous costume and return to school one night for a Homecoming Week skit some students had written. Another night he returned to supervise a class’s attempts at building their Homecoming float.

Phillip’s students do well, but it pleases my heart that he is remembered for his kindness. Former students drop by our house at holiday and vacation times to share their current adventures, studies, and goals, and Phillip welcomes them with the hospitality I imagine he showed them when they were high school students. Above all, he is a good listener; he holds their stories in the high regard they deserve, and so teaches his kids the very important lesson that they matter. Regardless of their home situation, their academic success or lack of it, their social standing, their physical appearance or athletic prowess, they matter. Their feelings and thoughts are worth being heard respectfully and considered deeply.

Like most teachers, Phillip’s time away from school is often spent preparing for the next class, the next week, the next year. But this means so much more than taking ongoing classes, designing curriculum, reviewing learning materials, and updating licenses. It means lying awake at night and worrying about ways to connect with students who are troubled or lonely. It means planning for meetings with parents who are angry, abusive, demanding, or distant towards their children.

It means pondering and creating a way to preserve a child’s dignity while giving him a coat, a meal–or a pencil–that will boost his spirit, ensure his physical comfort, and allow her to feel important, safe, heard, and ready to learn.

One moment of such regard can change a life; I have seen it and heard it over and over from people engaging in life review as their death takes shape and approaches. People recall moments when a teacher’s glance, note, comments, praise, and focus changed their lives. Altered their lives’ direction. Saved their lives. Or made them the person who could save his or her own life. Of course, a teacher’s neglect and negative energy can do great damage, but the well-intended and good educators far outweigh the bad, and we know it.

Teachers have recently, again, come under fire undeservedly and simplistically, as scapegoats for others’ poor decisions. The list denigrating educators is endless, vague, and finally illogical, like blaming the poor for Wall Street’s greed. Teachers stand out as easy targets for the bullies and crooks who sadly wield power in much of our current government and media, and we should beware of such behavior and castigation of their efforts and energy.

We are quick to call police officers, fire fighters, and military personnel our heroes, but every day, in myriad classrooms, teachers are offering the look, the comment, the listening–and the pencil–that saves a life and tells a child she is important; he is heard; they matter.

I married a teacher. He is intelligent, funny, and compassionate. He listens deeply, and tends his students’ learning and sense of self-worth diligently. He values their minds, bodies, and spirits. He safeguards their dignity.

He is my hero.

 

© Copyright of all visual and written materials on The Daily Round belongs solely to Catherine M. O’Meara, 2011-Present. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited, without the author’s written approval. No one is authorized to use Catherine O’Meara’s copyrighted material for material gain without the author’s engagement and written permission. All other visual, written, and linked materials are credited to their authors. Thank you, and gentle peace.