since i began teaching, i have used the same book to introduce dr. martin luther king jr each year.
the story is called "martin's big words" by doreen rappaport and illustrated by bryan collier. the book beautifully depicts the life of dr. king, starting when he himself was a small child and continuing on until after his death. if you haven't read this story, i highly recommend looking it up. i believe you will enjoy it as much as i do. this year, as my kinders and i prepared to celebrate the life of dr. king we began, as usual, by reading this book. for me, the holiday is especially relevant this year because of the demographic make-up of my classroom. in my room, we are incredibly diverse. when i look out at my class i am in awe of my students and their capacity for empathy, grace and kindness. we are a melting pot of races, interests, genders, strengths and limitations. from the outside, we look as different as different can be. but what i find to be most remarkable about my class is how very similar we all are when you really get down to it. we are a classroom of learners. we are a classroom of children who argue, complain, laugh, cry, forgive and grow. there is nothing to generalize or hold assumptions about: my class is quite simply a group of children who are learning each day. there were two main points i wanted my children to understand about dr. king and his beliefs. the first, is that dr. king believed that all human lives are equal. there is not a single life more significant or worthy than another. the second is that dr. king believed in a world where people came together instead of staying apart. the way i demonstrated this was to have one child come up and attempt to lift a heavy box in the front of the classroom. the child was not able to lift the weight of the box out of her own accord, however when another kiddo came to help her, the weight was lessened. moreover, when there were 4 people trying to lift the box, the weight became even less to bear. what my children came to understand is that we are stronger when we come together. things get easier when we come together. things are better when we come together. i finished the lesson by asking my kids if they could imagine our classroom without one or two people in it. want to know what they said? they said it wouldn't be the same. that we need everyone to be complete. to be whole. in that moment, i could not have been more proud of them. my children demonstrated an understanding of humanity that many adults can't seem to grasp these days. my favorite part about teaching my students about the life of dr. king was sharing with them a small bit of his iconic "i have a dream" speech. they listened intently, commenting on his "cool voice" and "fancy suit." when they were finished listening they were quiet (no small deal when you remember there are 28 of them). i asked them to look around at each other. then i explained that they are a representation of dr. king's dream come to life. "us!? but how!?" the said. "simply by being here!" i said. "by sharing with one another." "each other's hands during prayer." "helping each other at recess and lunch." "by loving each other." "but loving each other isn't hard," they told me. "no it isn't," i said. "it isn't hard at all." happy birthday, dr. king. with love, miss d's kinders
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i always say that christmas is the best and craziest time to be a teacher.
there is so much joy. there are so many smiles. there are so many treats and goodies. and it is also bat-shit crazy. being in kindergarten for the first time, the festivities seemed to be even greater in my classroom this year. and it was magical. i loved writing christmas cards with them for kiddos who are sick at children's hospital. i loved seeing their faces when they came in to see where our elf on the shelf was sitting each day. i loved hearing them talk about their wishes and dreams for chirstmas. i loved teaching them about advent and how the people waited for baby jesus so long ago. if you ever need your belief in magic restored, i implore you to visit a kindergarten classroom at christmas time (just make sure to bring hand sanitizer, because germs). we were talking one day about our wishes for christmas during greeting and the nuggets asked me about what my dreams and wishes were for christmas this year. what i wanted santa to bring for me on christmas eve. i think it's funny how as you get older, your dreams start being less about your own life and more about the lives of those you love. my dreams are for my family and my friends. for my kiddos and their families. my dreams are largely centered around those i care for getting what they need. health. peace. comfort. joy. my dream is for my kids to have everything. my dream is for their dreams to come true. every one of them. i was thinking the other day about when it is that we stop telling kids to dream big. when we start telling them to be more realistic with their hopes and aspirations. i teach my children that they can be anything. that they can achieve anything. that they can do anything. i also teach them that they have to work hard. harder than they think they can. harder than everyone else. and then i tell them how much i believe in them. how much i love them. how much their dreams matter to me. i pray for their dreams. i pray for their hopes. i pray about all that they are and all that they will be. i'll never teach my kids to stop believing. i'll never tell them to stop dreaming. even if their dreams are wild and crazy and seemingly impossible. with all that's happening in our world right now, i believe we can use all the dreamers we can get. whatever dreams and wishes you have this holiday season, just know that miss d is hoping and praying that you get everything for which your heart longs. xo my morning routine is almost always the same.
my alarm goes off. i snooze it twice. then, i grudgingly prop myself up and begin my day by watching cookie decorating videos and seeing what my people (and their dogs) are up to on facebook and instagram. i'm not saying it's the best way to start the day, but it works for me. today, i was disheartened as i scrolled through the posts of multiple friends, male and female, who have been victims of sexual assault or harassment. i was shocked by the astounding number of friends who had showcased the message "me too," after actress melissa milano made a public call for victims of sexual abuse to come forward in solidarity with one another. there were so many "me too" statuses. women i know from church. women i know from my hometown. women i've known for years and years. women i've only met recently. mistreated. violated. hurt. silenced. i cried for them this morning. i wept for their pain. i wept for the way they have been harmed. and i wept because, in a small way, i know how they feel. i know what it's like to be groped and told that i was "asking for it." i know what it feels like to be judged for the size of my breasts instead of the content of my character. i know what it feels like to be walked home by a man and then told that he needs "payment" for his services. i know what it's like to be oggled and sexualized and told that i should "take it as a compliment." i know what it's like to be diminished and minimized by men who think that women exist for the sole purpose of serving and pleasing. i have NOT been raped, thank god. but i know too many women who have. and it makes me sick. and it makes me mad. it makes me so freaking mad. in my classroom, i teach my students to be respectful and kind. i teach them to show compassion and be truthful. i teach them to keep their hands to themselves. i teach them to take responsibility for their actions. i teach them to take care of each other. i can't tell you how my boys will view women in the future, but i can tell you that for now, they view women as equals. they see their female classmates as friends and peers. i don't know how to fully tackle this despicable epidemic we have in our world of mistreating women. but i can tell you that for me, in my classroom, i will continue to teach my children about equality. i will do my best to help each and every one of my students understand the dignity and value of all human lives. i will teach my kids that equal work demands equal compensation. i will teach my kids respect. and i swear, "boys will be boys" will never be an acceptable excuse for male behavior in my classroom. this is my solemn promise. me too, ld well it's october and feeling like august. thanks a million, ohio weather!
i've been teaching kindergarten for a couple months now and i've learned a few valuable lessons. 1. do NOT tie shoes if the laces are in ANY way wet. it "may be" pee is not a gamble i am willing to make. 2. 5 year olds are like teenage girls on their period: they are constantly crying and they don't know why, they are eating EVERYTHING and they don't have a lick of sense. 3. emergency pants are absolutely positively indispensable. despite the newly found grey hairs and inability to stay awake past 9 pm on a school night, i truly feel i have found my people. one of the parents in my class told me i seemed like the perfect fit for kindergarten because i get as excited as they do about pretty much everything. accurate. i took that as a compliment and i love teaching these little sponges, not only about math and reading, but also about empathy and integrity and curiosity. i have found that kindergartners are my spirit animals and it is truly a privilege to get to do life with them. on most days, my classroom is wild and loud and bursting with energy. we are "those people" and i am perfectly ok with that. we are messy and goofy and loud and at times downright ridiculous, but isn't that exactly what a kindergarten classroom should be? last week in math we were discussing "same" and "different" as they relate to numbers and objects. i had the kiddos do several different activities which asked them to identify similarities and differences as we worked through the week. for fun, i had them look at one of my family pictures and identify what makes my family members and i the same and what makes us different (everyone agreed, i am like dad and marge and emmy are like mom). i also had them identify similarities and differences between each other, bringing two or three up at a time and having the rest of the group observe them. do you want to know what i found downright lovely? they never once mentioned race. they never once mentioned gender. they brought up things like favorite colors and hobby differences. they talked about how "o" runs fast at recess but "v" is really good at jumping. they talked about character attributes. in short, they talked about the important stuff. the stuff that matters. it was really profound for me as a teacher watching them do these activities. it reminded me that things like hate and racism are not innate. they are taught. differences don't have any meaning until someone decides they mean something. i choose to teach love. i choose to teach respect. i choose to teach that differences make this a more beautiful, colorful and diverse world. and if you ever find yourself losing hope in this broken and sad state of things, come spend a day in kindergarten. i promise it'll put just a little more happy in your heart. until next time. xo, ld it's the sunday before labor day.
there are fireworks going on outside and i am sitting on my couch watching netflix as my fall candles burn. i see nothing wrong with this. i love fall. the colors, the smells, the crispness. drew is traveling for work today so this evening i started a new show by recommendation of my girl hannah (hay girl) called atypical. i won't write a whole review but to be frank, it's pretty damn delightful. the show centers around a boy named sam, who has autism. in my opinion, the series beautifully illustrates the frustrations, successes, and every day miracles that a family who has a member with autism spectrum disorder (asd) encounters. all the characters are unique and charming and i like how the show challenges commonly-held beliefs and truths about people, especially children, who have asd. the autism spectrum is by and far one of the largest and most complex of any spectrum in the medical field. it is constantly changing and growing and there are as many rarities within it as there are people who are on it. when i was in school, i learned about many (but certainly not all) of the facets within the spectrum and what those may look like in children who have autism. i also learned about the language that should be used when discussing asd. the show touches briefly on one major component of appropriate language when discussing individuals who have autism: person first language. person first language is essentially acknowledging the individual before the disability, as it relates to asd. to be honest, when i first learned of this term at miami, i rolled my eyes slightly at the "political correctness" of it. we should be focusing on the kids, i thought, not the language. but then my professor had us do an exercise that changed that perspective. she asked us to imagine our favorite thing about ourselves. the thing we like most about who we are. i remember i thought i was friendly and that was my favorite thing. then she had us think about what we would feel like if every time we were introduced into a new environment, we were associated by that thing before anything else. friendly laura. it seems fine for a second. but then think about feeling frustrated or just quiet one day. maybe i'm not feeling very friendly, and that's ok. or think about circumstances when knowing that i am friendly wouldn't be relevant or necessary to know. i am friendly. but i am so much more than that. my characteristics and qualities stretch so much further than friendliness. and so do the characteristics and qualities of individuals who have autism. see, when we don't use person first language we limit a person to one thing. one quality by which we associate them. in class, when a child is known as the "autistic kid" that title stays with them and confines the vastness of their character. i bring this up not to shame anyone or make anyone feel bad. i bring it up because it's a lesson that i feel is important and one that had a profound impact on me and the way i teach my kiddos. i encourage you to remember that you are more than the sum of your parts. you are so much more than one thing. we all are. well it officially feels like summer in southern ohio.
the mornings are cool and crisp and they slowly melt into warm and muggy afternoons. the children smell like sweet sweat and fruity popsicles. the freckles begin to pop on my shoulders and cheeks and my feet are perpetually bare. perhaps my favorite thing about this change of season is the way the ground thaws out and things turn green and lush again. it's almost as if we are reborn when the weather gets warm. since i was a little girl i've always loved wildflowers. i love the way they grow, sporadically and unencumbered. there is no rhyme or reason to them. their nature cannot be reduced to any rhythm or pattern. they are wild, in every sense of the word. when it comes to my life, i've always been a rhythm kind of girl. i'm a planner. a list maker. a rule follower. i've spent my years trusting only things that are known and certain. i'm not a risk taker. i'm not brave. and i'm certainly not one to change my routines. at least not willingly. i think all of us fall in love with rhythms. we're wired to almost. we fall in love with the rhythms of conversations, heart beats, and patterns. we fall in love with people because of the way we fall in sync with them when we are well-matched. there are rhythms in families, friendships and romantic relationships alike. when i think about the people i love more than anything in this world, it's the people with whom i share rhythms. and yet. there are the wildflowers. the people in our lives who we love for reasons which make no sense at all. they follow no rules. make no patterns. defy all laws of order and reason. there are beautiful instances when our lives are wonderfully out of rhythm. seasons that are chaotic and untamed. i was considering this today as i picked some wildflowers and put them in a mason jar on my windowsill. i may be a control freak and an avid list maker but i can certainly appreciate the chaos and the beauty that come every once and a while, sometimes without any explanation at all. i like to believe that there is a wildflower somewhere inside of me. that there is a wildflower somewhere in all of us. and on these warm summer days, i hope to do a little digging to find out just where that wildflower may be. happy summer! and take a little time to consider the wildflowers in your life today. xo, ld today was one of those truly awful days you would't wish upon anyone.
as a teacher, nothing makes me more unhappy than seeing my children hurting. whether they are in pain because of a scraped knee at recess or a bruised heart from words spoken unkindly, when they hurt...i hurt. i don't love anyone or anything in the world the way i love my nuggets. they are my favorite thought. my greatest inspiration. my sweetest friends. my biggest supporters. they are, in so many ways, my world. and my god, do they make life sweet. this morning we talked about the reason we were created. we all believe we were created by god to do big things. to take grand adventures. and to love people. sometimes god calls us to new places we don't always want to go to. we're not ready to leave. and that is so incredibly hard. but part of being a christian is being brave with your life and making the leap: even if you don't feel ready. i don't feel ready, but i'm jumping anyway. i have taught my kids everything i know. on most days it's not particularly graceful or even dignified but the growth is real and it is pure. i have given everything for my children and although i would go back to certain days and give myself more patience or diet coke: there isn't a single day i can think of that i would go back and love these kids differently. i know i did that perfectly every day. today i told my children i had to leave them next year. and i cried like a baby. and they cried. and i held them. because that's what you do when you love someone. i will never love any children the way i love my kids at sms. but there are other nuggets who need me in new places and i have other hearts to run after. i pray that as my children grow they will leap before they're ready and love with all their hearts. for me, there is no greater lesson to teach. i pray i have taught them well. for they most certainly have taught me. always, miss d i wrote a new story the other day.
it was my lunch break and i was eating an illegal quarter pounder with cheese on a friday during lent in my catholic school classroom. i wrote it, in many ways, the same way i wrote a corner of heaven. quickly and urgently. as if the words were going to come flying out of my fingers. i don't know why it was on that day that the story came to me. i'm not sure why i felt such a strong call to write down what i wrote. but i know it's important. and just like a corner of heaven, i believe it is a story that needs to be told. my grandma asked me recently why i write the stories i write. i don't really know, i answered honestly. i suppose my hope is that i'm writing stories that help people. stories that make people laugh. stories that help people heal. or grow. or just feel better. even if it's only for a short while. i want to write stories that are needed. stories that serve a purpose greater than any purpose of my own. stories that make people feel less alone, just like my girl crush lena dunham said on a recent episode of girls. because feeling like you're the only one who is sad or angry or stuck is awful. when i was in college a professor once told me that my role as a teacher is to be the person i needed when i was younger. with writing, i want to tell the story i needed when i was younger. and that is what i did. this new story is about a special little boy who moves a lot. he has autism. and he is perfect, in his own way. as a child, i used to be so hesitant about anyone who didn't act the way i did. i was fearful of the things i didn't understand. i'm better about this now. i wrote this story so other people, old and young, may come to be a little less fearful of things or people they don't quite understand. i wrote this story in an effort to stop the eye rolls at loud children in a supermarket. the hushed judgments at restaurants. i wrote this story for my kids, so that they know that you can be wild and loud and lose control sometimes and there is nothing wrong with that. fear of people who are different isn't innate: it is taught. i choose to teach my kids about inclusiveness and respect. i choose love. no matter how loud or crazy or downright bananas it may make my classroom seem. i pray that this book inspires others to do the same. i pray this book helps families who have children with autism feel less alone. less stressed. less fearful of what is being whispered about their children when they aren't around. i have always believed that all children are miracles. the wild child is about one very special miracle. i can't wait to share it with you. stay tuned... ld just so you know.
i do consider myself to be pretty normal. i have to dance and shake my way into my jeans. i pick my nose in the car. i think i'm adele when i'm singing in the shower. i cry when i see new babies. i talk to my dog like she's a person i make my life seem cooler on instagram. and sometimes i eat ice cream for dinner. i am a human. and a recently discovered control freak. ok...so maybe i've had "controlling or bossy" tendencies my whole life but i shit you not it did not enter my mind as something debilitating or harmful until monday when my therapist (bless her) asked me if i ever felt let down or disappointed with things in my life. all the time, i said. why do you ask? because, she explained, i think you may be so consumed with controlling and planning your life that you don't spend too much time living it. OH. SHIT. well, brb gotta go re-think my entire life bye. she was so right though. i can recall being a child and purposefully not enjoying a fun thing my family and i did together because it wasn't a part of "my plan." my entire life is made up of things i've planned out and accounted for. everything up to my eiffel tower engagement has been orchestrated, in some way, by me. and you know what? sometimes the most amazing things i've planned turn out to be dissapointing because i have removed the fun from them. i am a fun-sucker. but i'm working on it. truly. my homework this week was to eliminate some negative vocabulary from my life. i took out the "should be, could be and ought to be" in my day to day language. i stopped trying to control the outcome of things and micromanage the people in my world. and then yesterday i literally caught myself projecting my idea of perfect and right onto my kids. we were making birthday cards for a parishioner of the church who just turned 100 years old (#goals). i explained to the kids how to fold the card (fine, normal, not controlling). but then i gave them specific directions for how to make, what in my mind, is a perfect and appropriate birthday card. i made them start over if the greeting message wasn't on the side of the card that i felt it should be on (slow down crazy, slow down!). WHO DOES THAT!? i legitimately stopped dead in my tracks, realizing what i had done. i made it seem that my perfect way for writing cards was the only way. i squandered the creative talent of my nuggets by forcing them to fall in alignment with what i thought was right. i felt so ashamed. because a world with only things that i find pretty and perfect would be horribly boring. sometimes my kids need me to control or guide the way they complete assignments or learn new concepts. sometimes my ideas really are the best ones. and sometimes i need to chill the eff out. my plans are pretty and safe. they are ok from time to time. but not all the time. i hope that if you love control like me, you take comfort in this. you're not a bad parent or teacher or friend. you're a human. a wildly complex, beautifully colorful human. we make mistakes. we nitpick how our mom folds laundry or how our roommate does the dishes. we wrestle with wanting things to be perfect not because we're bad people but because we are NORMAL people. you are a normal person. and by george so am i. we're gonna be ok, friends. i just know it. xo it is a truth universally acknowledged that if miss d is absent from school for a vacation she will always return bearing gifts.
since i began teaching three years ago i have yet to come back from my yearly family vacation to florida without a few small treats for my nuggets. i am known for the shells i find. my family and i scour the beach in the early hours of the morning to look for shells along with other precious loot from the ocean. the self-proclaimed "conch hunters" rarely come up empty-handed. until this year... by day four of hunting and finding nothing more than partial shells i began to get nervous. these kids are expecting shells. full, beautiful, shiny shells. how would they gloat to the third and fourth graders during recess if i came back empty-handed!? all i had were a few pieces of conch that i found during low tide. it was infuriating. i found all these parts of what i was looking for but could not locate what i sought in full form. these tiny fragments of shell were so beautiful and yet so disappointing because to me they represented something broken and useless. what good is a piece of shell? one day i began to pick up the pieces of broken shell and put them in my red shelling bucket. i studied them hard when i returned from my walk. it dawned on me as the sun began to rise in the sky that these shells didn't lose their beauty when they broke up into different pieces. the cracks represented life. a full life. they proved that the shells housed living creatures and protected them from the sea. a shell that's been broken is a shell that's been loved. it's funny how people are like that too. humans don't lose their beauty by being broken. if anything it adds to their worth and potential. a heart that's been broken is a heart that's been loved. and i can think of no better lesson for my students than that. today we celebrated the life that came and passed through our shells. we took time to study them and all that makes them lovely. we drew portraits of the life we imagined our shell had during its time in the ocean. my kids didn't love the shells less because they were broken. if anything the brokenness made them cooler. we're all a little bit like broken shells. but that doesn't mean we're not worth loving. from one broken shell to another, with love. ld |
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