Being Off Balance

     This week has been an interesting one for me personally, professionally, and in the sense of my physical fitness. The best way for me to describe this week is that I am, unquestionably, off-balance. The Earth is tilted off of its axis, I can't tell if gravity is working the same way, and I'm pretty sure the water in the toilet is flushing backwards. It hasn't been since my son was born that I have felt this way; like time is both slowing down and speeding up.

     It's been interesting for me personally because this is the first time in five years that I have had the house to myself; no wife, no toddler; just two dogs, a cat, and a fish. Five years is a long time in terms of not really interacting with my wife or kid. It's just a weird feeling. Luckily I've been able to talk to both my wife and child on the phone in the evening and facetime them when the situation allows. Before we got married, I lived alone for about 6 months and didn't really think too much about it, but now they've become so much a part of my routine that I have been slightly off-balance all week.

     Professionally, and maybe because of my personal experiences this week, I've been off-balance and short of patience. It's January, it's cold, and students and adults alike are getting cagey. I love what I do, I've said it here a thousand times already, but let's just say that all parties involved are fortunate that we had two snow days this week. With a snow day yesterday, I was able to get some work done and plan ahead for an exciting field trip in the spring, so I'll count it as a good day.

     What really struck me today, and is a sort of culmination of all of the other off-balance aspects of my life this week, was my physical fitness. Recently, my wife and I have been exercising 3-4 times per week at the Y. This has been great, obviously, for our physical fitness but more importantly it has been good for our mental staying power. In my family's absence this week, I have decided to take advantage of the extra time and work out a little more. Today is Thursday and if I get a workout in today it will make 4 days in a row. Monday was the showcase of my week where I ran 8 miles (cue Eminem music here) in 1:20.29 for a 10:04 mile pace. Slower than what I like, but it was the first time I had run more than 5 miles since September. Of course, being alone with my thoughts more this week allowed me to reflect more on our exercise and my running.

     It has become so "in my face" apparent that when you run, your attitude, mentality, and sense of balance is exposed as soon as you hit the pavement (or in this case with sub-zero temperature, the treadmill). Nothing exposes what's in my head faster than a run, it's like my brain kicks into overdrive. So on Monday, while I was slogging away on the treadmill, a million different things moved through my head. Of course it was kind of a boring run, staring at the wall in front of me for over an hour, so I had to deal with those thoughts of wanting to get off and do something else, but once I settled in other thoughts took hold.

     First, I missed my wife and son. Of course I did, I haven't gone more than a day without my son since he was born and haven't gone a day without seeing my wife in 5 years; I miss them like crazy. I also thought about work; what do I need to do to be a better teacher and mentor to the students around me? Am I doing the right thing (the answer came back yes)? Then my thoughts turned towards some "life shaping" events from last year, things that I carry with me almost daily in some form.

     The first thing was the passing of my grandfather. Robin R. meant more to me than I realized and he will forever be one of the greatest mysteries of my life. I was fortunate enough to spend more than usual time with him before I graduated college, but I realized this past summer how shallow my conversations with him had been. He was a Marine, the Mayor of his town, and a superb human that embraced his faults and shied away from no challenge, even throughout his drawn out illness. I learned so much just by watching him, but I never took the chance to ask him more meaningful questions. He was a man of faith, but we never talked about it. He was a Freemason, but we never talked about it. He was a larger than life man that was crammed into about a 5'4" body. He was not without his faults; he could have a temper, and he was the type of smart that couldn't understand why others weren't as smart. We tend to hero-ize the dead, but he had a lasting effect on me, despite his faults, because if nothing else, he taught me that we persevere despite them. More than anything, he always showed love and the way he interacted with my son just a few weeks before his passing is the memory I choose to hold onto more than anything else, because it showed more of his character than almost anything else I can remember.

     The next shaping event from the last twelve months that I thought about on that long run on the treadmill was my wife's miscarriage in October. Thousands of families go though this every year, sometimes more than once, and it is emotionally and physically trying on all people involved. I cannot even begin to imagine what my wife went through and how she thinks about it now; I can't feel that pain the way she does because it is wholly unique to her and I won't pretend to know it. As a father, however, it rewired my brain. This miscarriage was a month long process- first, there was no heartbeat, then there was, and for three weeks we were in the doctor's office, seeing our little nugget on the screen but knowing that they were slowly fading. We had to have conversations I never thought we would have to even consider, and I was concerned about my wife's physical and mental well-being. I prayed harder in that month than I had ever prayed before; but they weren't all prayers for a miracle turn around or a "God-fix" of our problems. They were prayers for closure and for the safety of my wife. I can't pretend to know why the plans laid for us are the way they are; all I know is that the clock turns the same for all people and no personal heartbreak or disaster changes that.

     I carry with me these events all the time, but they were foremost in my brain during that 8 mile run. I thought about how life isn't a straight and narrow path; it's hilly and it curves, and sometimes the road is closed and you have to trek through some mud in the process. I thought about how I've mourned more in the past year than have in the past 27 and how I've grown through that. I've asked for opportunities to grow my patience and I received that; albeit not in the form I would have preferred, but opportunity knocks in its own way. That run let me process so many different things- the physical stress my body endured allowed some mental and emotional stress to lessen.

     I am fortunate in my life. With my wife, we have been able to construct a life we are proud of and happy with. Our cup runs over without question. But every person experiences loss and heartache at some point in their life, and it looks different to all people. If you really want to see who you are and where your head is, lace up some shoes. Go for a walk or run. Your brain turns off all of the things that are urgent but unimportant and really narrows down on the things that stick. Running off balance helps me focus on what matters; the relationships I value, the losses I've endured, and the appreciation for what is in front of me. I've run enough now that I don't believe in a "runner's high", but I do believe that there is value in labor because your brain can clear the clutter and narrow its focus.

     Running may have saved my brain and it has certainly saved my body. It doesn't matter how fast or how far you run; a 12 minute mile is the same distance as a 6 minute mile. Running reveals things about character and our own mental health. After writing all this, I think I know what workout #4 is going to be this week.

Thanks for reading.

Teaching Civics in the Current Political/Social Climate

     One of the greatest content related challenges I have faced since becoming a teacher is having to teach a flat, unbiased, and apolitical viewpoint while discussing current events. However, I have allowed myself a certain amount of freedom, more than what has been generally permissible by my colleagues. The reason I feel that I can express more of my viewpoint rests in my recent voting record.
     I have never shied away from letting my students know who I have voted for in the elections I have taken part in. They know that I have voted for Rand Paul in a Republican primary because he was the most moderate/libertarian candidate on either ticket; up to that point I was a registered political independent.
     My students know that I, for the last two Presidential elections, voted for Gary Johnson--for those of my students who are politically inclined have done nothing by poke fun at this decision. In hindsight, I wish I had kept the receipt on those votes so that I could return them.
     I have made it a key element of my teaching that I will let me students know of my social liberalism and fiscal conservatism because it makes a great teaching moment for students who are not regularly around constructive political conversation. Several of these students are unintentionally misinformed of national politics (how many of us were well informed at 17?) and they have never had these types of conversations. Others are heavily influenced by their families, but don't exactly understand why they support the political ideals they do.
     If teachers and mentors are afraid to have constructive and open-minded conversations about politics, then we do a great disservice to our next generation of leaders. They will be informed by whoever can afford the most air time on television or who has the greater social media presence. I want these students to be able to evaluate where they are getting their information from. There's nothing inherently evil about CNN, Fox News, or any other major news outlet but if you take only one source at face value, you will be horribly misinformed and have a lopsided opinion. This is what I want my students to avoid at all costs.
     I have often toed the line when speaking of our current Chief Executive, but I owe it to my students to point out the successes and missteps so that they may apply what we talk about in class to the world around them. It doesn't matter what political party the President is leading or who is in power. I have been just as critical of our Democratic leaders as our Republican leaders and I have argued both sides of highly contested political issues like immigration, gun control, and abortion. It is important that as adults we model what civil discourse and respectful challenges look like.
     Each year my honors government students debate the moral and legal implications of abortion after weeks of personal research. It has become something that my students hear about before they get to my class and they are excited to take on when it comes in the late fall. It is a highlight of our year and something that brings out some of the best conversation in our class.
     What I would like people to take away from this post is that it is our charge and responsibility to have these tough conversations with our children and students. No one person should be left overwhelmed at the age of 18 when they finally have this awesome ability to vote in a national election and have no idea what they truly stand for. When your alone in the booth at the polling place, you have to reflect on what you believe instead of what galvanized individuals or media outlets are trying to sell you. In this age of instant consumerism and a constant back and forth of who is winning and who is losing, we have lost what it affect it has on the next generation of leaders.
     As a young parent and as a young teacher, I find it ever imperative that we make politics and political conversations a part of our students education. It's not a conversation of brain-washing or disparaging one side or the other. It's an issue of information; are our students being informed well enough of the situations that will affect their livelihood once they are a piece of the bigger world around them. It's a question that determines the existence of "lives, fortunes, and sacred honor". I hope we do it right, for the sake of those we teach.

Going to a New Gym/Run More, Stupid

     I am able to count myself lucky in this life for many things; the lifestyle we can afford, the careers that we have, and the family that we have been able to hold together. One of the things I'm grateful for is the ability to afford a gym membership to our local YMCA.

     There has been a Y in the next town over for several years, but it was showing its age; it was small, compartmentalized, and was easily crowded when more than only a couple of people were present. Sometime in the last year or so, the Y and several other organizations announced that they were building a brand new facility on the other side of the city that would be easily accessible from the bypass. This facility is beautiful! Tons of cardio machines, weight machines, free weights, two pools, two basketball courts, a track, and other miscellaneous rooms that house different classes and equipment. This new Y opened up on January first, and we've been 3-4 times a week since then.

     Yesterday we went and I decided that I would make it a cardio day. I've spent many of these new gym sessions cross training and gaining back some of my strength. I've run myself through some challenging arm and core workouts while mixing in some biking and running. Last night was going to be all about running.

     Last night I decided that I would check out my 5k time. Obviously, it's on a treadmill and I don't have all of the variables that work themselves into an outdoor run.

     3.1 miles in 27:49 for a 8:58 pace. 

     It was nice to get to running again and it was nice to see that my pacing was entirely off. When I got off of the treadmill I was soaking wet with sweat and out of breath, but it felt good. It was nice to know that my cardio fitness had stayed somewhat true to form. Last night was the first time in a long time that I started to see a reversed trend in my thinking--I'm starting to believe in body positivity again. We live in a world that's being airbrushed and touched up at an almost constant rate and it really does play a role on the way people think about themselves. Heck, just having a kid changed the way I viewed myself--nothing is more humbling than being outplayed/outran by a 2 year old.

     As stated in an earlier post, I'm wanting to increase my mileage and take on some more competitive races this year. A co-worker of mine, L, has invited me, my wife, and her husband to all take part in a 26.2 mile relay race as a part of pretty popular marathon weekend in our area. This means each of us will run between six and seven miles. I've covered this distance before, but never in competition. I'm excited and nervous to finally make running a team sport since part of the allure is its solo nature. These are people that I'm great friends with, so I know it will be a blast to spend part of a weekend in a big city doing something I haven't before.

     So my goal is this; depending on the length of the leg, I'd like to run a sub 9:00 pace. I have until May to train, but the terrain will be completely unfamiliar and I already know that it is more hilly and has more variable aspects to it than the flat bike paths I normally run.

So now I'm training for a race... oh boy.

Best,

The Complexities of Being a Dad and Teacher

     When we first had our son, I told my wife that it made me nervous to be both a teacher and a dad. When she asked why, I told her something along the lines of "teachers rarely think their kids are the ones in trouble/who need help" basically, teachers can sometimes turn a blind eye to their own children because they spend so much time trying to help other kids who's parents are "absent". We don't want to believe that we too may also be "absent" or zoned out when we get home at night.

    But I'll be honest; when the days feel like I'm a babysitter instead of an educator, I just want to come home and not be the adult in the room anymore.

     However, my not-even-two-year old does not know this about me. He's not aware enough of his world or have the experience necessary to know what his mother and I do or where we go for 8-10 hours a day and I wouldn't expect him to. So it becomes one more plate to spin in the air. We have to spin the plates of work, maintaining the house, maintaining our marriage, fitness, and being a fun/engaging parent to an active and sharp toddler.

     So I have to ask myself every single night, how am I going to be that parent today?

     And sometimes I fail at being that parent.

     Sometimes, being fun/engaging means that I'm rolling trucks down the hallway with him. Sometimes its doing the normal things, like baths, diaper changes, and dinner, while being extremely goofy so I can get a laugh. Sometimes being "fun" means I'm out of the room because I can't shake the stress from that work day and I don't want my negative vibe to affect his night. But sometimes I lose my cool, sometimes I'm on my phone, sometimes I decide to read whatever novel I have at the time. It's balancing the oft-mythical concept of self-care with being a parent. It's a narrow tight rope walk, but every day is a new day and a new opportunity, God willing.

     I can't be super-dad all the time; but I want my son to remember me as a dad who cared, and hopefully one day he'll see me as a positive role model. Here's to hoping I can pull that off.

Best,

Back to School...

     January is always one of the strangest times of year in the field of education. Like I've said before, it's a chance to turn the page and revamp your style or relationships with students. On the other hand, you know that you still have 18+ weeks and that your clientele is just going to get more feisty as we get closer to the end of May. But this is a great time for me to reflect on why I chose the profession.

     Yesterday, we had a work day where there were no students in the building and we just have the opportunity to organize, clean, and adjust for the coming semester. It's one of my favorite days as an educator because I get the opportunity to fellowship with some of my colleagues and do some reflection on what I'd like to do moving forward. It's also an easy day for me because I normally get my grades finalized from first semester before we break for the holiday, so I get to take a break and just work on the little things I normally forget in the hustle of day-to-day education work. Of course, I wanted to take advantage of some of this free time, so I was less than efficient...and as I'm walking out of my classroom at the end of the afternoon, I realized how much I had forgotten to do...oof. The work is never done, and fleeting motivation is no help--I did this to myself.

     Education has been one of the most beautiful challenges I have taken in my life. It's exhilarating to work with a variety of students at different points in their lives. I've had the privilege to work with students who have or are destined to do great things with their lives, and it's been one of the finest honors of my professional life.

     I have also had the opportunity to work with students who have been hurt, broken, and sometimes left behind. It's an incredible opportunity to really make an impact on some of these young people. Some of their issues/problems/pains are the result of their own actions, so they may not be completely blameless; but you come to find that so many of them have not had the same opportunities as others. Their basic needs aren't being met. I have bought groceries for homeless students, I've worked with colleagues to gather 'professional' clothes for job interviews, and I've worked with others to provide warm clothes during the winter months. I don't say this because I need a pat on the back, but because it is important to understand that most of these kids are not 'bad'; instead, they're working to shoulder an impossible load.

     For better or for worse, I have earned a reputation for being "easy", "laid-back", and have even been accused of not having my students do work. I imagine that from the outside looking in, it looks just like this. I even had a close friend come and observe my classroom during my first year and she was floored with how my students acted, because they would have been identified as "bad". Maybe they were, but when they had needs that needed met, they knew where they could come for food or a sympathetic ear, which is what they needed most in the moment. Many of my students and many of my friends ask or tell me that I am being taken advantage of, and maybe I am by some, but if I am able to positively support one student out of my 150, then I'll take it. I was provided that support as a young student, and I know that I took advantage of those teachers, but I'm better because of them.

     What drives me on the days I don't want to wake up is one of my teachers from high school. She was really the one who encouraged me to pursue this career, whether she meant to or not. What amazes me to this day, almost ten years after I graduated from high school, was a piece of paper she gave me after my first year of teaching.

     Our high school, like many others, offered college level courses at our high school so that we could earn college credit while taking classes at the high school. If you wanted to get into the program for free, all you had to do was pass a three part test that covered social studies, English, and math. I knew from the start that math was going to be a problem, but I went and took the test (twice) and was not surprised to learn that I had not passed the math portion. I was disappointed because there was no way that my family or I could afford the cost of the English class I wanted to take. At this time, my family was in shambles, my dad had lost his job, and many days he and I had to split less than $5.00 dollars so that we could both buy lunch.

     One day, about a month into the school year, this teacher pulled me aside and told me that the work I was doing deserved the college credit and that they were able to find the money. I assumed that our low-budget school district was able to find more grant money and that I was going to be covered. I was excited and grateful, but like any 17 year old, I quickly forgot this as it was school-related and thus not critical to my day-to-day thinking. Fast forward six years.

     This teacher invites my fiance and myself over to her house; she's getting ready to move and she has classroom items and things of the like that she wants me to take to work after my first year of working in a school. We sat and talked about my students, my classes, and other related items. I had told her before of my homeless students; the ones that I fought for and who turned on me or refused to see their potential. I was disappointed but not burned out...yet. In the middle of this conversation, she hands me a piece of paper.

     It was simple, one sheet, and turned out to be a receipt. A receipt for a college level class from a local university. At first I was confused; I knew that she had been taking college courses working on an advanced degree, so why exactly was she handing me this. Upon closer examination, I look at the date; it was the fall of my senior year. This teacher, who I had routinely abused in class and copped an attitude with on almost a daily basis had used her own money to pay for my education. Over $500 this teacher spent, on a student who I feel was less than deserving, in order to encourage and advance my education. Why? Because she believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself.

     Now I'm not afraid to cry, but it's certainly not something I do out in the open around others. I am not ashamed, however, to admit that I cried that day in front of this former teacher and my future wife. I was overwhelmed. I'm overwhelmed now just thinking about it.

     Why do I teach? Because there is a kid out there who needs a champion. There's a kid who needs someone to care about them even when they are being the biggest jerk in the room; because I was that kid, and I needed that person more than anything. I was blessed enough to have it; several students are not. That's not to say that each and every teacher doesn't try to be that person, but we can't be that person for every student, and some students and teachers miss each other in flight and it's on of the most heartbreaking parts of the profession.

     Today we got back together with our students. I got frustrated with behaviors, I laughed a lot, and I got to spend time with my Academic Quiz Team. It was equal parts awesome and aggravating. I love what I do--this is my retirement job. I couldn't be happier.

Best,