Friday, December 27, 2013

Vignettes from a Kindergarten Classroom

My student teaching semester in Kindergarten blessed me in ways more then I could have asked for or imagined.  When I started I was wholly fearful and now sitting on the other side I am thankful and affirmed in my decision to pursue teaching as both a career, service and passion.
Picture from my first day 

Here are some snapshots into my classroom written over this past semester:



“You are Reading!”
“Who thinks they can read today, I’m not sure you can. What do you think?” Sarcasm rolls off lips and hangs over 21 little heads like a pinch in the air. Heads shake and the confident, rare “yes’s” intersperse the sea of “no’s” as the kindergarteners struggle to wriggle themselves still. 
            “I’m going to show you our first sight word” She leaves the wooden rocker, uncaps the Expo, and leaves the inky trail of the word “I” on the board. 
            “What is this?”
“I,” children say.
“You just read!” she proclaims.
At this moment I notice him. “He’s my hugger,” she told me on day one.  She knows he does not get many from home. He barely reaches my hips yet tugs at her heart-strings.
At this moment he’s watching. Eyes light up.  The corners of his mouth turn ever wider in delight.  Her exclamation lights a spark in his heart. This woman whose everyday consists of stern discipline, the “move your clip,” also lives by the motto “my goal for kindergarten is that they like school.”  The juxtaposition of care and control forms her challenging crux.  She mouths, “You are reading! You are reading!” and the hard words fade.

“That was fun”
Six exit the class to work on numbers zero to ten with an aid. Miss Goetz perches at the front of the room.  With the fifteen kindergarteners left, she begins to lead counts from zero to twenty.  After the chorus stops, the fifteen flit to a new patch of carpet.  Miss Goetz drops bundles of number cards at their feet.
“Boys and girls lay the cards out starting with 0 and going to 20.”  Number lines begin popping up; straight across, two rows, looped. From the back, Mrs. Brown* calls names of students with developed number sense lugging the number board into the hall.
With lines of zero to twenty complete, Miss Goetz begins number games.
 “Who can find the 18?” Cards fly into the air. “16?” More cards.
In the back by the tables he sits. Or does everything but sits. “Matthew*, come on up here,” Miss Goetz calls. “Boys and girls, Matt* is going to clap a number and you are going to hold up that number card.” She whispers a number in his ear. He smiles and begins to clap. 1…2….3... Cards up. She directs and they clean up.  “That was fun,” Matt* proclaims. (*names changed to protect confidentiality)


Don’t Stop the Flow

            Miss Goetz sits at her desk and checks in the students as they enter the room incrementally from different waves of buses.  The students move about the room getting unpacked, making lunch choices and using the bathrooms.  Morning routines complete, they sit at their tables scribbling at morning work on beginning sounds. 
As they begin to finish, one girl comes up and asks, “Can I get a whiteboard?”
In a split second Miss Goetz makes a choice, “Sure you can get a whiteboard. Use it to find “a” words,” she says.  Eventually more and more students finish and grab boards.  Some sprawl across the floor with partners searching books for words.  Others work to search the room. Time for morning meeting comes and goes, and Miss Goetz does not stop them.  Given twenty extra minutes the students continue to explore and make their own discoveries.
Eventually a small tiff breaks out and it is only then that Miss Goetz takes back the reins and calls, “Put your things away, let’s go on to Morning Meeting.”




Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Wide open

I've come to this place called McCormick Park, a small stretch of grassy and gravel banks along the Yellow Breeches, in a moment of respite before a leap into my senior year professional semester. I sit now and an ant aimlessly crawls across the adjacent page (having just tickled his way down my belly). I pull blanket and journal out of my worn napsack and lean my back against the base of a large tree that spreads branches like arms forming a canopy to encircle me from afternoon sun.  Light glints on the babbling brook and I watch a small leaf drift down from over-hanging limbs until caressed and carried along the cool water's rapids. These are the tiny moments that I want to fill life with, the ones that make me feel nostalgic, wonderful and a light melancholy thoughtfulness that longs to still the heart.

I come here today to ask for life's gifts. To remember similar days back when my toes skimmed seashore and I felt at peace. This time may be a re-creation; a grasping at the more natural posture of summertime but it's also my soul's cry to carry a bit of that pace with me as I adapt to changing tides. These gifts did not end when I folded up the beach chairs and drove off the magical bridge. Yes, many turned to memory and remain only in the pulses of my heartbeat but many wait to be discovered. That is why I sit here on the two day precipice of student teaching. Not to ignore the challenges and grit of this changing time and changing role but to call on my great Gift-Giver so that I may do more than merely survive this stage of my journey. I came to take this cool margin time by the brook to recreate with my Creator where He will re-create me.  To transform the mind that so easily translates work into stress and a job into a chore, to instead send a pulse of love that turns the palms upward to ask to receive. This time to fill with Him so that what I pour out to my kindergarteners, floor, teachers, staff is swollen with love. To fill with Him that my very identity is rooted and established in love so that even my brokenness, my limitations, are still beautiful reminders of grace. To fill with Him so that in this epic chapter of action and impact there remains gift, there remains grace, and I remain wide open to receive.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Broken and beautiful

The other day I set out along the beach, bucket in hand on a mission to collect shells for Ohana, my Hawaiian themed floor this upcoming year at Messiah.  Initially as I dug my toes in the flat low tide shoreline, I set out to find beautiful, whole shells.  After a few minutes of exploring, I began to notice the plethera of broken clam shells that littered the beach.  Typically I would bypass these shells and I realized that I actually felt bad for rejecting them, knowing they would never be selected as someone's treasure.  I've had those feelings on my treks before, grimly aware of how these shells just did not make my cut of perfection.  That's when I realized that this time I wanted to pick them up and as I did I began counting out one for each woman who is about to enter Bittner 3rd in just a few days. As I walked along the shoreline, God began revealing that these seemingly ridiculous feelings for inanimate objects were actually my hearts rebellion against the standard of perfection in my own life.  What seemed nonsensical and a bit foolish turned out to be my inward plea for acceptance just the way I am.  On this journey of life, I have struggled to accept the cracked and hole-y areas of my own life.  I have tried again and again to will away my flaws and limitations, incorrectly and unknowingly submitting to a scarring message that I must fix me because I am a Christ-one.  But I can't make my imperfections vanish by sheer will power and I have spent most of my lifetime building a web of anxiety trying to reach a standard I don't believe I am made to.  Isn't that sort of missing the point? After all, isn't that the beauty of it?  That God reached down and plucked me out of the crashing waves as is?

Each time I bent over to pile one broken shell on top of another I felt more and more giddy inside, imagining the confusion of passers-by at my absurd selection.  That must be how God feels.  A little bit silly-happy as He bends over to select the broken, those that seem untouchable and places them in the palm of His hand and makes them His treasure.  I am glad that I don't have meet the standard of perfection to be loved by my Savior and it is His love that makes me whole. The broken are beautiful, not because they were broken but managed by some great effort to prove that they weren't broken, but because they were chosen as is. That's what's transformational.  That's what heals the cracks of insecurity and hurt in our lives. That's why what is broken can be called beautiful. That's grace.

As I head back to Messiah in just a few days, I lug back a bag of 50+ broken and beautiful shells for 50+ broken and beautiful women of God and I am excited to stand before my floor broken and beautiful because of Christ.  Thanks be to God for a trail of maimed seashells along the beach. Thanks be to God for the broken and beautiful, for grace.

Sunday, August 11, 2013

What's in your beach bag?

I came across this link from one of my favorite LBI bloggers and tweeters and thought it'd be neat to take a peak inside my beach tote while I sit here soaking up some August rays:

-a hairbrush
-half full (optimist) water bottle
-a green shovel with a wooden stem
-white bathing suit cover up with braided straps (I've had this for years and can't seem to find a much better replacement despite a few small holes and a stain)
-two containers of bubbles
-my neon green billabong hat (which I'm actually wearing so does it count? It's typically in the bag)
-a bag if microwave popcorn ( not sure how that fits unless the sun gets hot enough to pop it without the microwave)
-two sticks of banana boat lip balm with SPF  
-my green nalgene (does it show that green is my favorite color?)
-a teensy tiny empty tube of sunscreen 
- a mason jar filled with seashells and sand dollars
-a miny tube of L'Oreal kids SPF 40 sunscreen (for my nose!)
-Christy Miller series book (corny beach read!)

That about sums up my beach bag! What's in yours?


Monday, August 5, 2013

When tears are a good thing

When you drive two hours into the unknown. When you can't quite jiggle the locked door free of your new dorm.  When you begin unpacking your stuff into an unfamiliar closet and a few crates in a common lounge because they don't fit in your room. When you can't sleep because your feet don't quite fit on the bed.  When you panic just a bit because the first few days of work are filled with long 9-10 hour shifts.  When faces are strange. When you are unsure of when you will make any connection. When your heart flutters a bit with the twinges of anxiety at the start of something new.

When you are asked to run down to the beach in the pouring rain.  When you bound the steps of the dorm and are greeted by your sisters. When you pull out a variety of outfit choices out of you closet and have endless free fashion advice. When your bunk mate assures you that you can let your long legs run over onto her bed at night. When you dance to the beat while cleaning up from your shifts in a psuedo flash mob giggling with the other servers. When you are welcomed to try out all three food service positions, server, kithen and dish (all but baker!). When you write encouraging messages to the dish room in the cake residue on the pan because you know you are a team. When you hang out in the pantry on your day off because that is where your friends are. When you bike to the beach at sunset to play ultimate or soccer with the whole gang. When you float for long hours in the deep ocean or when you skim across the foamy surf. When you take adventures to the lighthouse and body board at sunrise and build a sandcastle.  When you have deep conversations with friends that fill up your love tank. When you chat with your top bunk mate during gloomy weather and drift off to sleep for an afternoon catnap.  When you tow a guy friend on his longboard back from the beach on your bike. When your friends spend a late per to go out for your last night to spin around and stare at the stars.

 When you have celebrated the joy and grace filled moments of the last two-months. When you are bombarded with hugs and words of affirmation spoken like whispers to your heart. When you realize that this goodbye carries with it the transformation of uncertainty into the beautiful gift of a new family. When your eyes swell with all of the happiness, love, joy, friendship and blessings of a summer that rests heavy upon your insides as you drive away.

When tears are a good thing.


Wednesday, July 24, 2013

A morning well spent

Peeling out of a gravel lot with friends passing the motivated few who rush towards the dawn. Cotton candy clouds, wisps of color. We run up the dunes. A reddish orb breaks over horizon. Footfalls in the sand meet the cool, refreshing foam of the crashing waves that lag on the shoreline of low tide. Our boards slap the water, mist sprays my face from a clean wave that breaks just beyond me. I play, invigorated by the salty depths and pink rays that slant through the sky tinging the time with the adventure of sunrise. I manage to tuck into the barrel of one of the waves and am met by the compliments of one of the guys. A morning well spent. A summer well spent. A few more days by the seashore...

Friday, July 5, 2013

Just a summer night

Finished the post-dinner clean up. Cue the dining services ice cream party announced by your super visor earlier in the day. Eventually the whole staff joins in for some chocolate and vanilla goodness. 

Hop in the jeep. Top down, roommate co-pilot and another in the back. Grab some surprise

secret brother gifts for tomorrow night. 

Back to HCBC. Hit up the Davis to watch staff brothers take on the guests in basketball. Erupting cheers (and many giggles). Game ends, and knock out commences. 

Curfew. Blushing girls gush over guys and cuteness. Snuggle up to a letter from a friend. End with a read-aloud of an old favorite.


Summer nights.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

'Merica

I found this gem that ever got posted, enjoy!! 

The fourth on LBI




HCBC family...

...and the sibs!

Thursday, June 27, 2013

She Sells Sea Shells

Today brought the smiles of dreams realized. 

First, I received the email for my student teaching placement in the fall, I will be with kindergarteners (oodles of cute!) Though I'm nervous about the young age I know it's the place God has hand chosen for me, and that knowledge gives peace. I may indeed be a teacher someday. Dream 1!

Second, yesterday while painting I made a whole bunch of middle school  friends who admired and desired to buy my sea shells which set the ball rolling to make them available for purchase, an item on my summer bucket list (that I felt was most unattainable) So after talking to some of the right people I will be selling my sea shells in the Harvey Cedars Bible Conference book store!!!!!!!! Mega dream (#2!!!!!) 

And finally I ran the longest I've ever run in my whole life, 4 whole entire miles, coming from the girl with anxiety before 1 mile runs in lacrosse and field hockey. I am a new creation because of my Savior! Dream 3!

A summer by the seashore. Dream #4! 
She sells sea shells....

Day Off

Wake. French Toast. Bikes. Friend. Surf City. Shop. Trinkets. Art. Postcards. Books. Produce. Bikes. Apples. Crunch. Juice. Core. Trash. Shoot. Score! Arrive. HCBC. Lunch. Kitchen friends. Jeep. Beach. Walk. Waves. Lame. Shower. Doll up. Staff lounge. Bang. Notes. Paint. Admired. Pizza. K2. Ministry. Snack. Kids. Balloons. Over. Under. Pop! Rita's. Sweedish fish. iPhone. Annoying. Fixed. Curfew. Friend. Birthday. Dance. Party. Swoon. Social media. Sleep. Zzz.....

Monday, June 24, 2013

Toothpick Umbrellas

Do you know how hard it is to find toothpick umbrellas?
I do now!!!

On Saturday, some of my new friends and I began to plan cupcakes for some HCBC staff birthdays coming up this week to celebrate at our staff inning Sunday.  Originally, we wanted to attempt to create a giant cupcake with the humongous coffee filters we have for our industrial sized coffee maker. But this endeavor was traded out for some simpler ones with beach decor (though I still haven't lost the desire to attempt one with the filters).

Most of the ingredients were easy to locate at Target and/or CVS, all except toothpick umbrellas! Those little stinkers. So yesterday morning the dorm head and I set out on a quest to find them. We tried CVS, several small shops, two grocery stores on the island, and the 5 and Dime (which had about everything else you can imagine) all to no avail. I even bumper bumped a wall of a building in this journey without any success. After grabbing the gifts and some coffee we headed back to the conference center empty handed (minus the other shopping I got sucked into from entering so many shops).  After dinner, I resumed the search for these little parasols and decided to call a number of places; Costco, Walmart, Michaels, and a few other dives on the island before making the drive. Nada. Zilch. Finally, a phone call to 5 Belo and a Jeep ride over the causeway brought us success. Check out the creations...




So we end the second week. It was a fun one full of energetic middle schoolers whom we high fived as they entered the dining hall every meal. Many of them lived by Messiah and I even met some leaders who were Messiah alum and a student their now! I loved seeing so many Messiah shirts. One day my spill count was at a two as I dripped water on two of the guests. Whoops! Middle schoolers are quite a riot and we have quite a rambunctious group coming today, or so I hear! Happy Monday all!

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Week 1 and Done

Blogging around this place is tricky because internet connection is spotty, but excuses aside I am currently blogging from a secret location I discovered while trying to watch Bachelorette online Sunday night. So here I sit on the stage over looking the entire dining hall bringing you some updates.

After those first few days things got busy and we got 150 adult singles for the weekend and then brought in 250 homeschoolers  this past weekend. Lets just say I worked some 9-11 hour days and lost track of my spill count though I did drop a roll on some lady's back. We also got some new servers, one of which is my "twinny" because even apart from our uniforms we continuously dress alike unintentionally (i.e. matching headbands, shirts, etc).



While work is great, I've also been doing some pretty fun stuff too.
Take a look:
Before and after our dance in the rain!


Grabbing ice cream at the cutest ice cream parlor the Big Dipper in Surf City.
Beach, surf and bike 
Can't go wrong with a little Chegg action even when trying the spiciest sauce (Ludicrous!)
And as always a sunset (add in a bike ride and its the perfect beach evening!)
 Now I'm off to start my second lunch shift of middle school week. What a whirlwind and I got a nice juice, French toast, milk and whatever else mixture to clear at breakfast. Eat up!




Thursday, June 6, 2013

Turn Left: Day 1 and 2ish in the books

I made it! I turned left!
I rolled up the this yesterday!


It's been a whirlwind of a 30 hours or so. Yesterday was pretty chill just moving in and a little bit of orientation.  I met lots of people and even went on a Target run.

 Today was my first day of work and I really like serving in the dining hall. I found out I actually had to carry trays on my shoulder. Its going to be an interesting summer for a klutzy gal like me. I think I'll do a spill/drop/major mistake count, one of my fellow and servers and I may make a game of it.

Today's Spill Count: 1 and a half. 

I stacked some plates too high before emptying them and they toppled. But no damaged just loud. Of course the HCBC board was there. Yep.



Despite the mishaps I like the buzz of the kitchen, the hard work of it. It's fun working with the other servers, as well as the dish and kitchen guys!

Looking forward to serving more this summer.

And this view from our backyard doesn't hurt!





Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Turn Left: my last summer of adventures before the "real world" spent left of the LBI causeway!

 All good adventures have a back story, here is mine:

Last summer was spent the usual way; babysitting, bits at the beach, just going along.  It was by no means a bad summer, there were lots of fun and exciting moments but college summers are loooonnnggg and I craved time with my peers.  Six years ago my family spent our first vacation on Long Beach Island, traversing the Garden State Parkway, down 72 and across the causeway before turning right onto the Boulevard the spans the entire island from the tip at Barnegat Lighthouse to the very end of Holgate.  Each and every year we would explore the southern end, spending the first few years in Beach Haven, renting our last summer on Joshua Ave. in Holgate before our family finally decided to buy and settle down on West Ave in Holgate just two houses from Beach Haven.  Each of the past weeks away, I spent my time at the beach dreaming of ways to live down there for the entire summer.  In November, Harvey Cedars Bible Conference came to my attention.  We were down at our house over Thanksgiving weekend cleaning up from some minor damages due to Hurricane Sandy (I was exploring the wrecked beaches and houses in our beloved beach town) and I became really excited about the idea of working at Harvey Cedars on their summer staff.  Once back home, I did some research and found out that you could basically be an RA at the beach.  At Messiah I talked with a girl who had worked there previous summers as well as talked with her brother who was a Nauglet who worked there as well!  I sent out my application over the winter and in March I found out that I was accepted (though not for the Room Counselor aka RA role, but still!).  Harvey Cedars, unlike the other towns on LBI that I have stayed in, is located on the northern end of the island requiring beachcombers to make a left onto the Boulevard when arriving on the island.  This will be my first summer making this left (besides visiting Harvey Cedars over Memorial Day Weekend just over a week ago).  As I am about to embark on my journey I am excited for the opportunity but nervous about a few challenges, including the small crate of storage space of have to fit my stuff in, more conservative rules and my own anxieties about starting new and being away from home for the summer.

I began my packing yesterday, making sure to select clothes that meet the modest dress code while also keeping in mind limited space. Anyone who knows me knows that despite many, many efforts I do not pack light. I have too many craft supplies for that.  Let's just say that my college roommate freshman year went without shorts for the beginning of the school year because she saw Facebook pictures of what I was packing and got nervous that we would not have room in our supplemental triple.  Anyway, I managed to pack most things into this suitcase, with a couple of additional bags but I think I did well. (The other caveat here is that I packed a separate bin to store at my beach house to make switches later in the summer if need be so I really didn't have to struggle hard!)

So this morning was filled with last minute packing and counting my "Beach Fund Jar" of coins that I collect all summer. I got a total of $54.15! Not Bad! My check in time today is between 1-3pm so I will be leaving shortly to make the 2 hour trek. I've prepped a summer cd and have the Jeep top down for the occasion. The main feeling I have as I put the pedal to the gas to begin this journey is uncertainty.  Uncertainty about my job as a server in the dining hall.  Uncertainty about the friends to be made.  Uncertainty about the schedules and hours of work.  Uncertainty about the amount of beach time to be had.  Uncertainty about any anxiety and homesickness. Uncertainty as to whether I will nail surfing.  Uncertainty about about the adventure.  Uncertainty about turning left.  But turning left means something new. It means adventure.  With every dream comes uncertainty but that doesn't stop the dreamer, so with that I begin!