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40 Stories Before 40 (Stories 3 & 4)

If you’ve stuck with me for the first two, it means I’ve given you enough insight into my life to make a connection, and for that, I am grateful. I can’t promise there will always be that connection, but in those instances where you are unable to see a connection, may my story spark reflection, wonder, or inspiration.

Story 3:

While teaching 3rd grade at a different school, I was going for my Masters (Teaching, Learning & Leadership). We had done a lot of work with types of learners, music and movement, and colors. This sparked an idea for me that turned into one of the most amazing units I ever created and taught.

Several 3rd grade standards for math require students to understand and calculate the perimeter and area of shapes. It was a unit that was coming up, and although I had taught this in past years with real-world connections (we used parking lots, playgrounds, area rugs, etc.), it just didn’t “WOW” the kids. I decided to integrate research on the effects of color on personality into this math lesson by telling the kids we were going to choose a new color to paint our classroom, calculate the area needed to paint and the perimeter of boards needing painter’s tape, and even determine exact costs for supplies.

At first, it was just something I pitched to the class to get buy-in, but after seeing their excitement, I knew I couldn’t see their faces if I didn’t follow through. I proceeded to ask my administrator if we could, in fact, purchase paint for the classroom. She was supportive of the purchase, but had apprehensions about the custodial staff painting, so I offered to paint it myself. She gave me the stamp of approval, and all sorts of fun ensued.

The kids determined a hue of blue would be best (small groups were given colors to research, and if they felt their color -or shade of their color- was a good choice for learning, they could pitch it to the class). “Waterfall blue” was the highest voted color 94/6.

We then broke into groups to calculate perimeter and area for each of the four sides of the classroom. Groups had to figure out total area and then subtract the area of the cabinets, cupboards, bulletin boards, etc. They also figured out perimeter for painter’s tape needs as well.

Then I projected the local home improvement store’s website on the front screen, and we determined how many gallons of paint and how many rolls of painter’s tape would be needed. We then filled an “order form” for the principal with our prediction of costs (no tax needed),, and then the kids asked, “What’s next?”

To save time and space, I’ll share this:

On a Saturday morning in April, I opened the school doors to students and their families, and together we painted our classroom.

 

Story 4:

Well, it’s thundering and raining, and I just received a notification on my phone that there is a lightning alert. This reminds me of the time I was in a tornado.

Growing up, my family always went camping. We had a motorhome, so summers were filled with weekend getaways to remote campgrounds. This particular late summer, however, I had just turned 16 and wanted no part of camping with the family, so my parents allowed me to stay home. It was a Saturday afternoon, and I had a friend over. We were making some sort of pasta for dinner when the entire scenery inside and outside the house turned a weird shade of green. It was like someone put a green sheet of tissue paper over the Sun. We looked at one another, unsure of what was going on, and proceeded to finish making our food.

Not a minute or two after this change, however, things got scary. The wind picked up its pace to the point that the trees we could see were starting to bend. As 16-year-olds, my friend and I scrambled to collect emergency items and find shelter under our basement stairs. It’s funny now how I thought to grab our family pet fish, and even discovered the neighbor’s small dog and brought him in the tiny space with us.

While we sat under the stairs, there was a sound that reminded me of a train passing through. The house rumbled and we had to plug our ears at one point.

When it seemed like things quieted down, my friend and I emerged from our safe space and proceeded to check around. The trampoline in the back yard had been lifted and smashed into the garage roof to the point that there was a gaping hole. The trampoline itself was perched upside-down through a tall pine tree in the woods next to our yard. It was a serious wake-up call, but was the only damage to our property. The lot just down the road from us, however, was not so lucky. It turns out that there were campers parked at a large plot of land just down the road from us where antique salespeople and history buffs congregated each year to share new finds and celebrate old ways. When the tornado came, those staying in campers sought shelter in front of the wheel wells. Unfortunately, one gentleman’s camper ended up tipping on top of him and he was killed.

I remember the police blocking off my street so no one could get in or out. As quickly as it came, that tornado was gone, leaving behind a small path of destruction and a life lost.

To this day, I cannot sleep at night when there are storm advisories or warnings.

 

40 Stories Before 40 (Stories 1 & 2)

I’m a little late in starting this blog, and obviously it’s been awhile since I’ve published anything on this page. My now almost 14-year-old son has continued to remind me that I’m almost 40, like he’s predicting doomsday or something. He’s taken an odd interest in attempting to tease me a bit, so I’ve decided that instead of accepting the narrative he paints with his remarks, I’m going to celebrate the heck out of this.

40 of my most memorable life stories I’ll give you until the day I turn the “Big” 4-0, and because I’m late in starting, y’all get to read two each day for the next couple days so I can catch up. Please forgive my absent mind…I’m almost 40, you know. 😉

Story 1 (for March 5th):

This particular story creates the setting for most of the others I am eager to share. It’s the story of my high school sweetheart, Jake. Let’s not take this story as a romantic one, though. Instead, it’s thick with my own shame, some humor, and just a little sweetness sprinkled throughout.

Jake and I were actually good kindergarten friends when we started school. I have a picture of the two of us performing in the class circus, and kept only his Garfield valentine from that year. Interestingly enough, after kindergarten, we went to different schools until junior high (7th grade), and by then, both of us changed enough that we didn’t care for each other one bit. To me, in 7th grade, Jake was the class clown who for some reason had horrible taste in clothing and footwear. He wore sweatpants (remember, this was the 90’s!) and had the most G0d-awful green Nike high tops. No need to add any more at this point, you can probably feel my distaste for his 7th grade self. I’m sure I wasn’t any better, either. My family had hosted a foreign exchange student at that time, so I was relishing in the attention that came with having someone living with me who had never seen snow before. I was a snot, and I cringe typing this story because I know how bad it makes me look. Please remember, the prefrontal cortex is in full chaos during these years. I’ve since grown, reflected, and promised to be better.

Fast forward two years to the start of 9th grade. Our class of 130 or so had begun dating (or “going out with”) one another, and I had established a small circle of regular friends in the middle of the popularity hierarchy. One of them ended up going out with Jake that fall, so I certainly was exposed to his class clown shenanigans more than ever, and Jake’s status elevated because he was going out with my friend, Kristi.

As female friends so often do, Kristi and I ended up getting in an argument of some sort – don’t ask me what it was about, for I can only promise you it was petty. I was livid for some time, and instead of seeking Kristi out to reconcile our differences, I did what any high school female would do and attempted what I thought was sweet revenge. I asked Jake to hang out with me so Kristi would be jealous.

Low and behold, I ended up going out with Jake for the rest of high school…and then college (add a “break” or two in those years, of course). We’ve been married for almost 17 years, together for almost 25 years. I’m not sure Kristi would call it sweet revenge, but I know my life changed for the better because of Jake’s ability to ground me and make me laugh at the same time, and although he might not admit it, I’ve brought structure, safety, and sincerity to his world. We make a good pair, that’s for sure.

 

Story 2 (for March 6th):

I was in my third year of teaching the second half of the school year at a rural elementary school. When first hired, it was understood that the gentleman I shared the position with (he taught the first half) would ease out into retirement in the third year of job-sharing. So for the first half of each year, I subbed, volunteered in my soon-to-be classroom, coached softball and basketball, taught summer school, and did pretty much anything I could to continue showing my commitment to the school. This final (third) year was coming to a close, and I was pregnant with our son, Caden. Caden was due to be born the beginning of June, giving me perfect timing to develop sub plans for the last few days of school, have a summer of cuddling and coddling, and return (hopefully) full-time in the fall.

As expected, my first-half colleague announced that he was officially retiring. This set off the process of posting the position’s opening, interviewing, and selecting candidates. At this same time, our school had a new principal. I won’t name this person, but he was very open about his goal of getting more males into the elementary setting to the staff. There were staff meetings where he outwardly stated this wish. When the time came to select candidates for interviews, there were 11 people called…and only two of them female. At 36 weeks pregnant and the beginning of the school week in mid-April, I interviewed with the committee and returned to the classroom to teach the remainder of the day. On Friday of that week, I was called into my principal’s office and informed that I was not selected for the position. I remember having a prenatal appointment after school that day, and my doctor told me my blood pressure had skyrocketed, and that I needed to try and calm myself and my body over the weekend.

By the following Monday, I had been informed that students had started a petition to take some sort of action (those little dearies). They passed around a notebook for everyone to sign while many of my own colleagues had flowers and gifts delivered to the classroom to show their support. The chair of the school board called me that evening and asked if I would be comfortable if she brought this to the attention of the entire board, to which I responded my gratitude and that she was free to do as she wished, but I wanted no part of it. Well, at the end of the week (Friday again), I was called into my principal’s office for the second time. He proceeded to chastise me for not following the chain of command with everything that was being done. I remember leaving his office in tears (I’m actually crying as I type about this horrendous experience). That night, Caden decided to come into the world three weeks early, but perfectly timed for my needs – and with a smooth delivery in under 2 hours. Get this: my principal even had the audacity to send an email stating that I was to write the three week’s worth of lesson plans I hadn’t done yet due to my son’s early arrival. How’s that for leadership?

I’ll tell you what, though. That experience taught me who I wanted to be as a leader and pushed me to grow, learn, and strive to always work on myself so that I may serve others in a way that encourages their own positive growth. What an amazing learning opportunity to come from such a dark time!

I am proud to share that I have my Masters in Teaching, Learning & Leadership, my K-12 Administrator license, and have countless experiences in keynoting, presenting, creating, designing, leading, coaching, coordinating, developing, publishing… and the list goes on. I am a better person, and I vow as a leader to support others in becoming better versions of themselves, all because of Story 2.

 

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