Rescue

So I haven't even written a post since I started teaching...shame on me. I will one day :) But I got caught up watching dog rescue videos on Youtube. If you ever need to feel a release watch the rescue of Fiona and Ralph. I just started crying watching those two dogs being rescued. It makes me so sad to see them in such pitiful conditions, and I am also filled with tears of joy when I see the kindness and patience of the people rescuing them.

Something tugs at my heart when I see those dogs; I am reminded how frail and lonely our lives are on Earth. I'm reminded of our helplessness as babes or as elderly folks, unable to care for ourselves, just as the dogs are. And then our wonderful saviour comes and rescues us, just like those kind people who rescued the dogs. There is a moment in the video when Ralph, who had been abused and abandoned finally, finally allows the man to touch his head. And his eyes slowly close, maybe in relief that he wasn't hurt, or tiredness from putting up such a fight for so long.

Our heavenly father offers us that rest. Sometimes I think I have a hard time trusting God. Trusting that He will take care of me, and lead me to peaceful streams. But God knows the utter peace we can experience if we put ourselves in His hands.

Kara Update

I wrote a post back about my respite kid Kara. Stacey had the baby, a tiny, beautiful little girl! I am generally scared to pick up babies, because they always start to cry, but I couldn't resist holding her for a moment. It's amazing that something so tiny will grow up into one of us. Her hands are the size of a twoonie (for all you non Canadian folks, thats a two-dollar coin that has a polar bear on it). And her face is so small, the features not quite developed yet. I could almost believe that someone actually gave birth to something that small, and yet also, incredibly huge??

 Kara, unfortunately lost her placement in the home. Two overdoses in two days, again, not suicidal, but attention seeking. How do you make her see?? It's been frustrating me so much, to the point where I need to take a step back, away from Kara, while I re-gather my patience. It's unfortunate, because she was about to start school and things looked like they were about to calm down. Actually, now that I think about it, it may have been an [successful] attempt to avoid going to school. She told me she was afraid of being bullied. Which is totally a legit concern, but you can't spend your days chained to a hospital bed because the alternative scares you.

Summer's Over :(

The last few week of August were spent as a combination of truly enjoying summer, and feeling guilty about how much work I'm not doing. A road trip to Swift Current to see one of my friends in her new job, apartment, etc., really drove that point home. All the wonderfully smart, on-task ladies in the car were discussing their planning and prep, and that nervous panic sets in my stomach as I listen to how far behind I'm getting. The internet will be the death of me.

Anyways, the new teacher orientation for all new staff in my division was on Wednesday. I drive 3 hours to get to the Narrows. And the sun was glistening off the water in a way that you can almost forget it's really dark, gross, green-brown water you're actually looking at and not the clear blue that you think you're seeing. It was, truly beautiful.

Determined to make a good impression and not alienate myself, I turn on the chatty, enthusiastic charm and meet the board members etc. Later at tables we were playing a get-to-know-you-game. Everyone else's questions were "If you could be in the Olympics, what sport would you choose?" and "What do you do with a book you are reading but don't like?" Simple, easy. My questions? Not so.

"Share an embarrassing moment." Of course I can't think of anything. But I launch into a firmly padded, fabricated story about my first kiss which was in rehearsal for a musical. Why did I choose that terrible, inappropriate moment? I wish I had an answer. Maybe I have a death wish. The board members at my table were not impressed and the other new teacher I bonded with looked at me strangely before saving the moment by moving on.

"Who is your favourite politician of all time? Why?" Seriously? What kind of question is this on an icebreaker game? I of course don't know anything about politics, and the new teacher beside me suggests I take another card. But I think I can redeem myself with this one, so I say with a laugh "I don't know anything about politics besides what's on Saturday Night Live; can I pass?" Blank stares. Either they don't know what it is (unlikely), or highly disprove of my watching the show (possibly), or can't believe that such a wingnut got hired to teach their kids (most likely).

From there I just shut my mouth, and I think everyone seemed to prefer it that way. I have all year to redeem myself. If anything I was glad I was such an idiot; it made an unremarkable night sort of worth it.

Kids Are Dumb

Kids are dumb. I mean, they are getting smarter in terms of manipulating adults and the system (especially the school system). But it seems like kids these days are getting into really awful (and sometimes hilarious) situations.

Jack is a camper who attended the camp I worked at last summer. He arrived wearing a suit jacket and shiny shoes, stepped off the bus, looking so out of place, like a lizard in the arctic. I watched him, wondering what the heck he was doing at an outdoor summer camp. He sort of reminds me of Manny from Modern Family. He looked like that kid from the show, a little bit roly-poly, too much class for a kid his age, and the tiniest bit stuck up.

Immediately Jack made clear his unwillingness to be there. He didn't want to do the activities, just wanted to go home. But it was also clear to us, the staff, that he secretly DID want to be there, but something was holding him back. On the third day, my co-worker sits Jack down and asks him if everything is okay. Jack launches into a tirade of all the illnesses, injuries, diseases, accidents that could warrant us calling his grandma to pick him up. My clever, clever co-worker says, "well you know when I had this illness, my grandma told me that going to the bathroom would fix it. And I sprained my ankle last year, but strangely enough my grandma swears that going to the bathroom would make it feel better. Do you think that maybe if you tried going to the bathroom, you would feel better?"

Jack thinks it over. You can see the reluctance on his face. The classic problem of a kid taking a dump in an unknown place. My co-worker takes him up to the private staff bathroom, hands him a magazine and says, "take all the time you need."

Five minutes later, Jack swaggers out of the bathroom, coat jacket slung over his shoulder, easy gait, more relaxed than we had seen him and says to my co-worker as he leaves, "yeah I feel better now."

Kids make poor choices everyday. The story of Jack is so silly, but funny. He was such a goofball; it was a good thing my co-worker saw through his excuses and was able to help him enjoy his time at camp.

There is another story of a kid making really terrible choices that resulted in devastating consequences. I am haunted by the news story of the 15 year old who killed another girl simply to know what it felt like to murder someone. She's now 18 years old and I can't get that sad, terrible story out of my head.

I wonder if we ever grow out of it. I make such stupid mistakes every day. Some are funny and others end up hurting the people I love. I just want to grow out of being dumb. I don't mean intellectually, but growing out of bad choices. I will be seeing a lot of kids pass through my door in September, and I just want to help them bypass the "dumb" phase.

There is a chapter in the Bible. In 1 Kings 3, a king named Solomon offers a sacrifice to the Lord. From 1 Kings 3: 5-10 is says, "That night the Lord appeared to Solomon in a dream, and God said, 'What do you want? Ask, and I will give it to you!'
Solomon replied, 'You showed faithful love to your servant my father, David, because he was honest and true and faithful to you. And you have continued your faithful love to him today by giving him a son to sit on his throne.
Now, O Lord my God, you have made me king instead of my father David, [here's the important part] but I am like a little child who doesn't know his way around. And here I am in the midst of your own chosen people, a nation so great and numerous they cannot be counted! Give me an understanding heart so that I can govern your people well and know the difference between right and wrong. For who by himself is able to govern this great people of yours?'
The Lord was pleased that Solomon asked for wisdom."

And God promises him fame and wealth and a wise and understanding heart that no one else has had or ever will have.

At the foster home that I work respite in (more on that later), the kids are always making terrible, unwise choices. Stacy had unprotected sex with her boyfriend and is now about to give birth (no seriously, she went to the doctor's today and she is already 1cm dilated. That baby is coming any day now). Jennifer moved away from home to give herself a shot of having a better life but is unable to stay away from drugs and the gangs in the city. She comes home with a bruised face sometimes, and I just want to shake her! No actually, I want to kidnap her and raise her in the most remote place on earth where she can't get into trouble.

My baby in the foster home, Kara, is the silliest of them all (mind you she's only fourteen). She purposely engages in self harm, not because she's suicidal, but she needs the attention and has blown up her problems in her mind so they become overwhelming. For example, she just celebrated her birthday, and at the party, she saw her younger brother there. The foster mom accidentally mentions Kara's cutting and suicide habits in front of her brother and the brother starts crying. Kara gets upset as well and the whole situation is terribly awkward. And Kara is soooooo mad at the mom. I was too, for not being more sensitive and reading the room. But later I was thinking about it, and I got mad at Kara. It's no one's fault but yours that your brother was crying. No one made you cut your wrists. Everyone has choices. And Kara needs to realize that she can control her circumstances, if she wants to.

I'm not trying to make light of depression, or simplify it. But in Kara's case, it is simple. She blatantly lies about events in her life to get attention. And her cuts are enough to get attention but not actually cause her harm (see manipulation). If Kara does kill herself, it will be an accident rather than intentionally.

I realize I am all over the place with my thoughts and stories. But sometimes I feel incredibly stupid, and other times I just want to shake these kids. Jack, and that girl that committed murder, and my respite kids. And myself too. I could just wait and hope that I will grow out of this stupidity. But I think I'll put my money on prayer. After all, God gave Solomon wisdom that surpassed all men. Surely he could spare me some?

Sarah

Purpose and Stories

Writing a blog is hard. It has to be interesting. It must be well written. It must uphold the high grammar standards that have recently developed (thank goodness) among internet users. Over the last few days, I have been stumped about what to write. I could write a devotional, I could tell a story that happened and try to make it funny. I could just write about my day, but I don't feel like anyone wants to read about that. I don't want to be a needy person who only feels connected through sharing experiences that are really quite boring.

Let's instead talk about really awesome fictional ideas that I wish I thought of. I just got John Mayer's new album Born and Raised. Walt Grace's Submarine Test, January 1967 is INCREDIBLE. The movie The Incredibles is incredible. Also, Lord of the Rings, Inception, Harry Potter, and C.S. Lewis' Sci-Fi Trilogy. Seriously, if you haven't checked out Perelandra, you should do that immediately. It is amazing. There are so many more good ideas out there so I'll stop now. 

This past birthday was my champagne birthday, twenty-two on the 22nd. I had been dreaming of this birthday for the past eleven birthdays. I usually get morose and depressed on my birthdays because I'm a whole year older, and yet haven't accomplished anything since the last birthday. But the champagne birthday was accompanied by something a little more fierce. This is the year of awesomeness. I'm twenty-two; in the prime of youth, graduated, finished school etc. etc. I felt more desperation to actually DO something. My special birthday year is already half over, I'm on the downwards slop of twenty-two. And what I want more than ever is to write stories. Powerful stories that affect people, that make them feel and think and be inspired to write stories of their own.

Who doesn't, right? Everyone wants to write, and have it magically become a bestseller. Just today I was talking to one of my co-workers. She has a blog as well and is working on a novel. It's crazy because I have very little respect for her and yet can't help but admire her for doing what I do not have the guts to do: sit down and write dammit!

There is a TEDtalk by Matt Cutts called Try Something New for 30 Days. He talks about how in 30 days he wrote a novel, simply by sitting down and forcing himself to write (and not going to sleep until he had written his budgeted words for the day).

I need to apply this principle to the blog, to my dream of writing, and to my life in general. I'm going to start today. I think. Unless Frasier reruns come on and then my dreams are toast.

Sarah

P.s. - If I did make grammar mistakes in this post, please let me know, just be kind :)

Anonymity

I was working on the About Me section of the blog. It's a little tricky because I want to post pictures be honest in everything that I write, but I've seen all the trouble teachers can get into by not being careful. Did you know they teach us in class how to protect ourselves on facebook? They give us a list of things to get rid of, not to accept friend requests from students, etc. I disagree with the facebook recommendations because the priority is now to cover MY ass instead of looking out for the students' well being.

How private do I have to be to protect myself well? Not that I'm planning on creating trouble, but no one ever does. At the end of the day, no one is looking out for my well being but me. It sucks but it's true. And I can only hope that someone is looking out for the kids too.

I've also realized there is wonderful freedom in writing a blog anonymously. A certain honesty that can come forth when no one knows who you are. I can be more free with my words and thoughts.

In the words of Scotty from Star Trek: "You know, it's exciting!"

Sarah

Catch Up

Okay. Already so many things have happened.

First: I graduated. Yay me! Five years of a degree I wasn't sure I wanted in the first place. I think I spent half my time trying to get out of it, and telling everyone that I AM going to do something different with my life. And now I am pursuing a career that fits my degree, and hopefully only committed to this for three years.

I enjoyed university and loved learning but I always have this fear at the back of my mind that I'm missing out. I never took that gap year, and am scared that it may never happen. There are so many things in life that happen outside of education, and university and I haven't yet experienced them. What if I get stuck in this new job for life?? Gah. 

Which lead me to my new job: Music Educator. That's right, my future is filled with glee clubs and beginner band camps and spitty floors (from the spit valves on brass instruments in case you weren't in band back in the day). Since January I have been fretting about what to do with my future. Volunteer overseas? More school? Teach (ugh)? At that time I knew, beyond a doubt, that teaching was not for me. But as summer drew closer and my finances grew thinner, I started sending out those dreadful applications. I took an interview for a tiny Icelandic village outside of the city.

A village. I don't know exactly what constitutes a village, but the sign stares me in the face every time I drive past. I just know its small. Four streets by four streets. I think people hunt for their food; I haven't seen a grocery store.

 More about the village later.

Skipping the interview, got the job, took it, I think as a result of being scared and afraid of the unknown and letting my parents down, and also a the tiniest bit eager to be awesome at it. See, it was a job that three of my fellow graduates were offered, and they all turned it down, because it's a big responsibility. The job is a little hazy. I'm basically developing a music program (hence the big responsibility) and teaching some other stuff on the side. 

Third: Apartment! Yay! My first one! This has been a new and very exciting experience for me. I have been blessed to have generous parents who paid for my schooling, my room and board at uni, everything. But I'm twenty-two and finally independent (sort of... or will be soon). And so excited!

Back to the village. I've always wanted to live in a rural area, and it's quite charming, I hope I don't turn into that guy from the Shining. Although I don't have a wife to try to kill so I think I'm good. But maybe I should stop blogging... he was a writer wasn't he???

I already have possession of it, and am moving soon. Posts to follow with pictures!

Fourth: Car! Also new for me. It doesn't have hub caps yet. But it is still perfect.

2007 Nissan Sentra

 

 

Adding up a degree, a job, an apartment and a car in the span of a month. Sometimes I feel like Peter Pan "I won't grow up! I don't want to go to school. Just to learn to be a parrot. And recite some silly rule."

Peter Pan must hate me. Well sorry Pete; if I had someone like Wendy to clean up after me and could fly, I would stay in Neverneverland too. But as I've learned, growing up can have it's perks :)

Sarah