Category Archives: Inspiration

Month in Review

For such a tender, fresh young time of year, May does a lot of heavy lifting. This month seemed both interminable and swift. We’ve been running hard, and every moment has felt as though it’s not full enough to get things done. I’m a big believer in slowing down, taking time, not having every moment scheduled. However, this has also been the month where I am at the mercy of my responsibilities. I’m limping into summer.

That is not to say that there have not been remarkable, wonderful, life-changing experiences this May.  I’m trying to craft the life I want now that my focus has changed, my responsibilities are shifting, and my children will soon all be in school for a full day. My small family and dear friends have been a beautiful, central, and necessary part of this month, and I’ve snuck in, quite purposefully, moments of art and beauty. It has been a month of shaking off the old, and insisting on the new.

Here are some highlights from May:

  • A short film that a fabulous and gifted friend and I wrote finally got filmed. For three days this month, I saw our words put into motion and got to work with some of the most talented, creative, hard-working, brilliant professionals I’ve ever had the pleasure of spending time with. The cast and crew were far more experienced than I, which is the best situation for me to be. I listened. I watched. I learned. I loved every minute of it. In addition to being cowriter, I functioned as executive producer. I started a production company called Melted Butter Productions. Onset, my job was largely to make sure people were fed and to stay out of their way, two things I’m fairly good at. It was a steep learning curve, and I loved every second of it, even the long hours, hard work, forms, and red tape. Right now the film is being edited and turned into something greater than the sum of its parts. I am thankful to have a team of people who I not only trust but who I so enjoyed working with. More on that project as it blooms.
  • I’ve written here about the life-altering, wonderful, affirming, much-needed experience that was Listen To Your Mother. It’s hard to believe that that was only a few weeks ago. The LTYM show was one of the greatest days of my life and the experience introduced me to some of the greatest people I’ve ever met. There is something about sharing this experience with other storytellers and writers that created bonds at the heart-level.
  • My daughter finished up preschool and will be starting kindergarten fall. May meant several transition activities, grounding us in this new part of our lives. I have one foot in the Slow Down! camp and another in the Spread Your Wings And Fly, Little Girl! camp.
  • For the twins, there were concerts, portfolio nights, and school events almost every day. My boys will be going to a new building in the same district this next year. It’s not so much a graduation as it is a transition, so my feet are in two camps with them as well. Exciting times to come.
  • One son started playing baseball this spring and his team has made it to the semifinals. The child has learned so much in a few short months, all things one would hope baseball or any group activity would teach: determination, focus, teamwork, shaking off bad moments, celebrating good. That’s a W.
  • My father turned 75 this month. There was much cake. That is also a W.

  • My sweet dog who is around 11 years old struggles with his health. We are spoiling him rotten and keeping an eye on him. His quality of life is our guide.
  • I’ve been knitting again. My daughter wants a new blanket and I stupidly agreed to do it. Now it’s a thing. A huge, boring, have-to-pay-just-enough-attention, why-did-I-knit-this-in-worsted-weight thing.
  • I have been writing more these last few days with a new routine and a new focus that I will expound on in a different blog entry. So far so good. But of course, all bets are off for summer. I assume the first day of vacation will trounce all over my happy writing plan and I will have a few more months of squeezing it in between special moments of asking the kids for the millionth time to close the door.
  • I have been catching up on the stack of magazines I have. Are you familiar with The Sun magazine? It’s absolutely brilliant. I just finished the September 2016 issue and have not been able to stop thinking about more than a few pieces in there, notably “#WeAreHarryChang” by Thomas Lee (oooh! You can read it here! Do it!)
  • A little late, but listening to season two of Big Magic podcast by Elizabeth Gilbert. Her voice is sunshine, and her message is positive without being treacly or saccharine.
  • Finally watched Moonlight. Mahershala Ali earned that Oscar and probably another two or three. What a performance in quite a haunting film.
  • Also saw The Words, which was not as haunting, but an interesting play on that old chestnut of what happens when first we practice to deceive.
  • The best discovery this month is the National Geographic series, Genius.   It’s a fascinating, unblinking biography of Albert Einstein. Warts and all. Please tell me you are watching – I’m dying to talk about this show, especially the role of his wife Mileva. A biography of her wouldn’t have been uncalled for. Can you imagine an entire series of shows about underappreciated, unsung wives throughout history?

Deep breaths now as we waltz into June, a month of sweet berries and cannonballs, fireflies and picnics.

How was your May?

 

 

LTYM Paean

Listen to Your Mother Chicago was over two weeks ago, and the national program ended this past weekend.

I find myself struggling to put into words all that this experience meant, from auditioning a year ago (read all about that here), to not making it, to seeing the show last year, to redoubling my efforts this year, to auditioning again, making the cast, rehearsing, and finally putting on this show on May 7.

The only words I feel are close to adequate are “life-changing.” Anything beyond that is like trying to paint the wind.

I wish I were a composer or a painter or a sculptor because it all seems too big for the words I have right now. Or maybe I just need to grow my words, using time and distance to nurture and tend to them.

Someday, the words will come.

For now, I have tremendous gratitude and awe. My thanks to Ann Imig, founder of LTYM, to Tracey Becker and Melisa Wells for cradling the Chicago baby and for providing a home for our stories, to my castmates and new friends who walked this journey with me, to all the storytellers in the last few years for blazing a safe, beautiful trail, and to everyone who listened to these stories.

I also have a sweet new LTYM coffee mug.

Until my words catch up with my heart, I leave you with a few pictures, which were taken by the amazing Brandi Lee of Balee Images.

Teacher Appreciation

 

Come, Teacher, to the lounge

For here shall be brewed the day’s first coffee.

Please partake of the leftover donuts from yesterday’s meeting.

They are already kindly cut into fourths.

As the grounds are measured and you grip your mug with dry erase marker-stained fingers,

Remember last summer when you lingered over breakfasts –

Or over anything at all.

#

Harken to the percolation,  

Herald of the rising sun and the impending first locker slam.

The filling carafe draws all nigh:

Shop teacher, school nurse,

Part-timer with her omnipresent classroom on a cart.

The untenured. The veteran. The inter-building traveler.

The aide and the counselor. The music teacher and coach.

All the lanyard-wearing troopers who each morning achingly resist the temptation of the snooze button

To once again enter halls bedecked in inspirational messages.

Make Good Choices

Work Hard

Believe

#

Wait, drip by agonizing drip, and sort out the day with your fellow instructional pilgrims.

Is this a block day?

Who has lunch duty or pick up duty or playground duty?

Which students will be pulled from your class for trombone lessons, speech class, an interview with the newspaper, or a talk with the assistant principal?

Is there an assembly this afternoon?

Is today picture day or hearing tests or college visits or career day?

Talent show? Recital? Science fair? Book fair?

A fire drill? Tornado drill?

Or makeups for any of these?

Is there a meeting after school? During lunch? Right now?

Is it a team meeting? IEP? Grade-level? Department?

Is today the day to say goodbye to the secretary, hello to a student teacher, or welcome to another school here to observe?

Are Building and Grounds finally coming today to fix the heat in the hall that’s so chilly you wear gloves to supervise passing periods?

What day is this?

You just need to know because

There are papers to grade and plans to create, and your outdated bulletin board says

Fall Into Fall.

You need to know if

You’ll get time today.

#

Hear the coffee maker belch finis!

Fill your mug – the large one with World’s Best Teacher almost rubbed off from years of use –  and try to unscramble your To Do list from your

Really Have To Do list:

Write report card comments;

Analyze the last spate of tests which were given to predict future test performance;

Update the review game for next week’s quiz;

Find a moment to inhale a snack to prevent daily 10 am tummy rumble;

Decide if you can coach the debate team, cross country team, and robotics team;

Don’t forget you promised to bring lunch back up to your classroom to share with the student who told you her family can’t afford lunch and she’s too ashamed to take the cheese sandwich in front of her peers.

She’ll need your undivided attention, so updating the review game will

Have to Wait.

#

Hear the young laughter down the hall and know the day is about to start full force.

Maybe you’ll enjoy a few sips of this glorious coffee later.

But first, handle the Crises and Unplanned Things.

The substitute across the hall hasn’t shown up.

You offer to cover a class during your free period, as was done for you that week when the flu finally felled you.

You find your stickers and your stamps

 And a thousand ways to say

Try Again

Keep reaching

Yes, you will use this later on in life

Be magnificent. Be present.

Keep it up.

I believe in you.

Dig down so deep you feel the earth’s magma burning your soles.

Or maybe that’s the ache of being on your feet all day.

Brace for the nose blowing, coughing, the same question ten times,

And the magic moments when you have their focus and curiosity.

Usually, that’s when the intercom buzzes to ask for a child to come to the office.

You’ll then endeavor to recapture that momentum from a moment before

It’s gone

Somewhere.

(Perhaps out the window that never lets in enough air in late May.)

You’re ready for the handwashing and the lessons

Kindness

Tenacity

Coping

Striving

#

Clear a spot for your coffee amid the piles on your desk

But stop trying to match nameless papers with missing assignments when

 Someone knocks tentatively at the door.

A student who needs extra help

Or a student on crutches

Or one who will miss your class today

Or missed it yesterday

Or who is going on vacation and wants a week’s worth of work by lunch.

A student chomping gum up until the beginning bell

Who pushes you with his, “Yeah, but” responses

The one who wants her 99 to be 100.

Or who wants a chance to improve his hard-earned 80 because his father told him it’s not good enough.

Or who aches for the work to challenge him a little more and doesn’t know how to ask.

Or the one who struggles, or who is hungry or neglected

Or loved and still troubled by the mini-dramas in her life.

You don’t hesitate to invite that someone in.

#

Take a sip – two, if you’re lucky – and look at what is in your planner

And what is not.

The laughter, the “ohhhs”

The kids who show up with completed homework and the extra credit

And those who insist they never received it.

The ones who walk, the ones who run,

The ones who need help taking off

The ones who soar

The ones who just want you to see them.

All of them

Yours.

#

Grab your mug as the first bell rings

And smile into the cold dregs at those who blithely say,

“Those who can’t do, teach.”

Because you know that you teach because you can.

And you do – with all of your might

And the occasional boost of caffeine.