ramblings of a ragamuffin: September 2011

Friday, September 23, 2011

dysfunction, first hand: my first week in CPS

I've gone back and forth about whether or not to write this post. I don't know who's in the blogosphere these days - professors or administrators or peers or teachers - anyone and everyone has access to this blog. For that reason, the names and places in this post have been changed.

That being said, I just finished my first week of clinicals in a CPS high-school. High-five to myself! I know most of you don't know or care about the specifics of my program, but I feel like it's important for you to know why I'm teaching in an inner-city high-school this semester. As a Special Education major at Loyola, I get certified to teach kindergarden through twelfth grade. As a result, I get to have 'clinical' experience in an elementary school (enjoyed this experience), a middle school (hated this experience), and a high-school (so far, so good). Clinical experience basically means I'm somewhere between being an observer and a student teacher. I'm not sitting in the back of the room watching, but I'm not in charge of leading all instruction either. I circulate the room, complete different projects for class, sometimes teach lessons, and help out where needed. Basically, my job is to learn as much as possible about what's actually happening in the schools and what that means as I enter the field.

The first week in my high-school has been a mix of things. Before I tell you too much about what I've experienced, I'll tell you a little about the school. We'll call the high-school Littleton. Littleton is in a neighborhood of Chicago that has the highest rate of foreclosures in the midwest. The crime rate is three times higher than the national average. Through all of the ups-and-downs of the economy, this neighborhood has been hit hard. Many people are without jobs and, as a result, living in poverty. The parents who do have jobs work extremely odd hours. This is just one factor that contributes to a lack of parent support at Littleton. My cooperating teacher had one parent show up to back-to-school night. 1 parent out of 150 students that she teaches. There's a decent amount of students who don't have accurate addresses or phone numbers on file. 95% of the student-body qualifies for the free lunch program. I have to walk through a metal-detector to get into the building. This afternoon when I walked outside, there were five police cars parked on the street in front of the building - normal precaution. In the past few years, students have been required to purchase uniforms, because gang colors and violence were becoming too much of an issue. Littleton is 400-500 students over-capacity. Not only does my cooperating teacher not have her own classroom, but her office is in the back of the gym-locker room. The average ACT score is 14.9, six points lower than the CPS average. At Littleton, the students who are considered high-achievers would be considered low-achievers at most suburban schools. Daily, I see students in general education who cannot read or identify the main ideas and supporting details of a written passage. I could keep going, but I'm sure you're starting to get the picture.

Needless to say, Littleton is a hard-core inner city school. On my first day, I felt like I was walking into a movie. To calm my nerves and muster up some courage on Tuesday, I channeled some Hilary Swank. Littleton really isn't too far off from that clip. Being there for the past few days has been a mix of sad, eye-opening, discouraging, and frustrating. On the other hand it's also been affirming, encouraging, full of hope, and brimming with promise. I have been paired with a special education teacher, and I follow her around to two inclusion classrooms, three self-contained classrooms, and countless meetings per day.

There's a whole lot of dysfunction and chaos happening at Littleton; I've seen more non-examples this week than I though possible. I've witnessed the worst lesson planning, team collaboration, and classroom management ever. I watched a teacher bribe a student. I watched a teacher tell students that he knew they weren't going to understand the material, he knew it was too difficult for them, but they should try it anyway. "That's how you'll learn," he said. In my brain I'm thinking, where does student success come in? I watched teachers in a team meeting exclaim that a new initiative is just too much work, time and effort, and the school should just hold off another year. I heard teachers openly proclaim that they want to do as little work possible. I listened to a lead teacher tell others in a meeting that he is switching the type of assessment from free response format to multiple choice, because it just takes too long to grade. Call me crazy, but shouldn't we design assessment based on what we're measuring, not our own convenience? I saw inclusion happening the way it's not supposed to. I saw the special education professional get talked down to like an assistant. I got informed by the general education teacher that, "Those kids in the back? They're my LD and BD, and they really can't do anything on their own unless Ms. Frizzle is by them." My inner-dialogue at this point, 'Are you an idiot? Why are you a teacher?' I've channeled this movie numerous times this week as well, especially when dealing with people who just shouldn't be allowed to be in the classroom. I listened to teachers make fun of my cooperating teacher, saying that she doesn't do anything, isn't a real teacher, and "Why did they give you this girl who wants to be a teacher?" Uh, the school placed me with her because she knows a lot. And she's really freaking good at her job. I listened to kids use derogatory comments toward women and students of other races. I heard students who were surprised that I'm in college, want to be a teacher, and want to be at Littleton.

I don't want you to think I'm sitting here complaining about my placement. I loved it. I would rather spend all of my time at Littleton than being in classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. Tuesdays and Thursdays are, by far, going to be the best days this semester. Here's why: They have one foot in the door with change. Systems change takes between 3-5 years, and they are working hard to set up a new framework. They are well on their way of implementing both the academic and behavioral sides of the triangle. They have prevention set up and interventions in place. In the past few years of putting RTI in place, they have seen a drastic change in their students. It's been good. Hard work, but it's paying off. Where they are this year is a complete 180 from where they were two years ago. They are making improvements. They have a team of teachers at the forefront of change, my cooperating professional included. Yes, they are running into setbacks. Yes, there are teachers, including the few I mentioned above, who are completely resistant to it. They don't have an ideal school, clearly. It's not perfect, but what's happening there is absolutely inspiring. It's encouraging for me to know that next year, if I choose to work in CPs, my skills and knowledge about RTI, PBIS, and the systems change that's happening will be put to good use. I have a skill set that can bring change to schools like Littleton. That's encouraging for me. That's hopeful. That's full of promise. Maybe it's too optimistic, but so be it. Being in an environment where I can see change happening and I can see it benefitting students is life-giving, and it's the best reminder of why I'm doing what I'm doing. To channel Ben Battaglia, I'm geared up about it!

I have nine more weeks at Littleton. That means nine more weeks of 5:30am wake-ups. Nine more weeks of long days. Nine more weeks of packing my lunch (utterly annoying). Nine more weeks of teachers who don't get it. Nine more weeks of teachers who do. Nine more weeks of soaking in as much information as possible. Nine more weeks of getting to know my students. Nine more weeks of teaching. Nine more weeks of helping. Nine more weeks of encouraging Nine more weeks of watching their brains in motion. Nine more weeks of witnessing change. Nine more weeks full of reminders of why I'm going into education.

I know it's not going to be easy. If there's one thing you should know, it's the teaching is not easy. It's actually really hard. I know I'll be tired and frustrated on more than one occasion, but I also know that it's going to be good. I'm going to learn a lot. I love teaching - the good and the bad that comes with it. And I feel like I'm in the right place, doing the right thing, at the right time. If anything, this week has confirmed that CPS is where I want to be once I graduate. It's dysfunction, that's for sure. But I'm ready for the chaos.

Monday, September 19, 2011

one year later.

This post could go one of two ways. It could either be incredibly long and drawn out, moving through each stage and emotion of the last year, or it could be short and sweet. Right now, my computer is at 25% battery and I have class in thirty minutes, so I'm hoping for the ladder.

I like looking at the trajectory of my life in one-year spans. It makes sense for the way I process and think about things. Along with new beginnings, I feel like we're consistently given natural one-year marks to evaluate and examine our lives. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, the start of school and the end of school; all of these are natural situations where I can sit down and think about life in that year. On my birthday I can think back to the year before and reflect on how I've grown. The same goes at the start and end of the school year. The same is true of this day.

I feel like this fall, I have lots of reasons to be reflecting and examining and also celebrating the past year. Not only does today mark the one year anniversary of my involvement with Young Life, but it's also (roughly) the three-year anniversary of the start of my journey with Christ. Both of these things are cause for celebration. Huge celebration. Dance party and cupcake eating celebrations. There might be a post coming later in the month about life in the past three years, but for now, I want to focus on life in the past year.

I don't know how I've done it. Honestly. Yesterday my friend Ben reminded me that today marks my one year anniversary of Young Life, and that astounds me. I don't know how or when that happened. I don't know when I started feeling comfortable in this role or when I started really seeing it as a calling for this time in my life. I don't know how it's been one year.

I could write for a decent amount of time about why this year has been so influential and so transformative and so valuable for my story, but I don't have enough hours in the day to do that. Truly, the only thing worth sharing and celebrating is that none of my getting through this past year has come from me. My own strength and control have done absolutely nothing for me. Instead, I have seen God intervene in tangible, obvious, big, unexpected, and perfectly orchestrated ways. Isn't that just like God? To come in at unexpected times and in unexpected ways and show us His might, His power, and His grace?

I'm not going to go into the details of the past year, don't get me wrong, I want to share them ... but the blogosphere doesn't seem like the right place. The only thing I really want to share is that this year has not been my own. I am not sitting here, thinking about club later tonight and the year ahead on my own accord. If it were up to me, I would have been out months ago. I probably would have quit leading the day after I started. I'm serious. Leading Young Life has been hard, challenging, and difficult. I've been weary, broken down, and frustrated at so many points in the past year.

The only thing that has propelled me forward this year is knowing that it's not me in control. Not my words. Not my dance moves. Not my club talk. Not my campaigners lesson. Not my control. Not my strength. Not my doing. Not my mission. Not my glory. I'm merely the messenger, but I'm not the One with the message to tell.

That's where I'm sitting today. I want to celebrate and praise God for the work He's done in my heart and in my life in the past year. I want to praise Him for Young Life on the North Shore and all the ways it's been so powerful and transformative. And above anything else, I want to recognize that this year has only been possible by His strength. He's so much bigger, so much more powerful, and so much more mighty than anything inside of me.

I read this quote earlier today and it just seems so fitting. I've read it over multiple times already. I could write an entire blog-post around this quote.

"Maturity in Christ has more to do with understanding the depths of God's grace and forgiveness. Maturity in Christ is about consistent pursuit in spite of the attacks and setbacks. Maturity in Christ is not about finally attaining some level of pseudo-perfection. It's about remaining in the arms of God. Abiding and staying, even in my weakness, even in my failure." -Angela Thomas, Do You Think I'm Beautiful?

I love it because it makes me think that maybe I've got it more figured out than I give myself credit for. Maybe I am actually doing something right. Maybe I know more about life and life with God than I ever let myself believe. Maybe the only thing we can do is sit in His arm and give Him control. I don't know, I obviously don't have all the answers. I just know that for the past year and for today and for the next year (wherever that takes me), I want to stay in His arms. That's really the only place where life seems to make sense.

(Apologies if you've read through this whole post and there are spelling or grammar errors, run-on sentences, or confusing paragraphs. I usually read through my posts two, three, and sometimes four times before I post them. But it's now 12:45, and I'm just flat out not paying attention in class, so no proof-reading for this girl. Also, at 16% battery. Check plus.)

Saturday, September 17, 2011

running watch.

I remember the first time I ever went for a run. It was September of my freshman year of college. Don't get me wrong, I had run before that, I had just never gone for a run. I had never left the house with the sole intention of running. In high school, I always did my running on the basketball court, but never around my neighborhood.

If you've never gone for a run, let me tell you firsthand, it's hard. Like, really hard. Especially when you're just getting used to the sport. The first time I ever went for a run, I'm pretty sure I made it thirty seconds before I told my friend Maggie to keep going without me. No joke. Thirty seconds.

That was almost three years ago. Since that dreaded first day in my running shoes, I've come leaps and bounds with running. I've built up slowly over time, adding minutes and miles to my repertoire. I could write pages and pages about why running is wonderful and how it's been beneficial to my physical and mental health. But that's not the point of this post.

The point is that in the three-odd years since I've been in college, I've started running. A lot. And I'm hard on myself with running. Really hard. I mean, I'm hard on myself in every area of my life, and running is no exception to that. I'm my own worst critic and my biggest enemy. It's not uncommon for me to get frustrated with myself about my split times in races, my mile time on the treadmill, or the distance I run. Let me give you an example of inner-Erin dialogue while running. 'Shoot, just finishing up four miles. It's been 47 minutes. That's over an 11 minute-mile. Erin. That sucks. That's so frustrating. You can do so much better than that. You should be running a 9 minute-mile.' This happened earlier today. No joke.

As I type this now, I'm going over that inner dialogue from earlier, rolling my eyes and shaking my head at how silly it all is. Really, Erin? You're getting mad at yourself for not running fast enough? Does it really matter? Does anyone else in the world care about your running pace but you? Does it really matter if you're not the fastest? Not the best? Not meeting every ridiculous standard that you hold yourself to? Are those 11 extra minutes really worth demeaning your value and tearing yourself down? Does it make you less of a person? Does it really make you less worthy? If I'm being completely honest, my inclination is to answer yes to that last question.

Which is why I'm throwing away my running watch. I'm done timing myself. I'm finished beating myself up and making myself feel bad for not finishing in a certain time. I don't want to be that person anymore. I don't want to be the person who is so wrapped up in meeting too-high expectations and crossing things off my to-do list that I lose sight of who I am. Now, more than ever, I'm realizing that my worth does not come from what I do or don't do. Nor does it come from what I say or don't say or how I do or don't relate to the people in my life. My worth doesn't come from anything in this world.

A little bit, I'm reminded of the story of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32). I'm sure you've heard the story, but if you haven't I'll give you a brief, two-sentence summary. Basically, this man has two sons, and one day the younger son asks his Dad for his share of the estate (basically... his half of the money). The son takes his money and runs off, making all sorts of foolish decisions, ends up losing all the money, and comes crawling back home. In so many ways, the prodigal son does not have his shit together. As a last resort, he comes crawling back home, and even says to his Dad, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son’ (verse 21). He's desperate. Lost. Guilty. Exposed. Unworthy.

And do you know what the Dad does? He throws a freaking party. His initial response is, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate' (verse 22-23). Here's the son, feeling unworthy, beat-up, totally stupid, embarrassed, and not deserving. Instead of having a discussion on dysfunction, the Dad welcomes him home with the best clothes and food and a party. Really? How awesome is that!

I started a new book the other day, and this quote struck me today while I was reading. The author says it better than I ever could:

"We deem ourselves unworthy to be in God's presence. We don't feel that we deserve to be scooped up into His arms or love. We can't stay there and bask in His joy over us. We can't believe longer than a minute that He thinks we're beautiful. We stay for a moment and then run from Him, dragging our guilt and shame with us. We don't want God to look into our souls. It's heavy and crippling. The embarrassment is almost more than we can take. The question of your worth has been settled. The son belonged to the father. Do you understand that those are God's words for you too?" - Angela Thomas, Do You Think I'm Beautiful?

My worth is settled. My value comes from belonging to God. It doesn't come from the mistakes I make, big or small. It doesn't come from my mess ups or slips ups or poorly worded sentences. It doesn't come from my lack of speed on the pavement or my less than perfect grades. I am worthy because I belong to Him. On my own, I am not worthy. But that's why I belong to Jesus. He makes me worthy. My worth, my identity, my value ... that all comes from Him. It's not my own nor is it anything I could accomplish on my own.

At the deepest place in my heart, I want this truth to sink in. I want to know it, believe it, and bask in it. I want to dance in it and spin in circles in the sunlight in it. And some days, I do that. Albeit, they are few and far between. Most days, I believe this truth about myself when I wake up in the morning, and then I walk out the door, am faced with the world, and lose it. It's a constant battle I'm fighting. And I'm holding tight to the truth that I can't fix it on my own. I am not the one who is going to heal such a messy thing. I am His work in-progress, and He loves me for that; just where I am.

And I think He's delighted that I've finally decided to take off the dang running watch.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

new beginnings.

I just finished my last first week of school, as a student anyway. A year from now, I’ll be in the midst of transition and change – saying goodbye to the comfort of college and hello to the stark, cold walls of a freshly painted classroom. For now I’m standing in my Old Navy flip flops, ready to take on my final year of college in the comfort and familiarity of life as I’ve come to know it at Loyola. The sounds, smells, and rhythms of school are all around me – the el passing by every few minutes, new school supplies and packed lunches, and the well-known repetition of the snooze on my alarm clock.

I’m coming to realize that in life, we’re always given new beginnings. We’re presented with opportunities, experiences, and transitions that bring us change and new life. And although I’m not quite at the next new beginning – college ending and transitioning friends, jobs, and locations – I’m starting to see this school year as a new beginning in itself. A new beginning of running, a renewed mission at Bethesda, a fresh start in Young Life leadership, and a rejuvenated spirit toward teaching. In so many ways, this year is an ending – an ending of four years of hard work and celebration of all the ways life has changed and God has revealed His goodness. But in so many other ways, I’m starting to look at this year as a beginning, too; the beginning of the end of college, a chance to celebrate in the midst of the mundane, the beginning of new challenges and new lessons, and the beginning of new growth.

Maybe it’s the slight change in weather, routine and schedule, or the recent posts I’ve made about lifestyles and words … but writing about new beginnings makes sense. It’s where my heart and my head are focused. When I think about the year coming up – I get excited and nervous and happy and scared and hopeful and weary and a million other things all at once, and I’m so ready for it. I'm ready to celebrate the little moments just as much as the big moments. I'm ready to reflect on the past four years and they ways God's shown up and transformed me. I'm ready to take what I've learned this summer and go with it. I'm ready for the very good times and the very hard times. Ready for anything and everything. I'm just ready. Bring it, life.

That being said, I’ve been thinking a lot this week about words that I want to see lived out in the next school year. There are four words that I’ve been praying on and hoping for in 2011, and adding these new words to that list makes sense. My list of words inevitably keeps growing, but that's okay with me, because these words become my life and my story. And I feel great about that.

The word I want to be praying on and seeing lived out the most is balance. It makes me the most nervous. Everyone I know is busy. Everyone is involved in 5200 different clubs, activities, and ministries. Every single one of my roommates is up at 7 in the morning and running around all day long. As college students, we're busy. Fact of life. And I want to find balance in that. I want to believe in, rest in, and sit in the peace that everything I do is a part of my life, but not my whole life. School, running, Young Life, Bethesda, friends, blogging, reading, cooking ... they are all a part of my life, but not one of those things is my entire life. Together, yes, they consume a large amount of my time, but they do not define who I am. Who I am belongs to Jesus, and my identity is first and foremost found in that. I want to hold fast to the truth that I am His, and everything that I do in my life He has gifted to me. My ability to run comes from Him, my capabilities as a Young Life leader are possible only by His strength, my ability to take control of a classroom is a gift from Him, the ability I have to read a book comes from Him. Ultimately, I want to be aware of and rest in that truth this year - that I am His, and everything I do is His. I have faith that if I surrender my time, my enery, and my talents to Him, He'll use me however He wants to. And isn't that what it's all about, anyway? Stewarding our talents to give Him glory? Shouldn't everything we do be glorifying Him? That's what I want this year. I want everything I do to be for Him, and I think that's when I'll find true balance.

In the past few weeks, I've realized that I feel the most alive when I create something. Whether it's art on a canvas or a meal in the kitchen or a new outfit out of seemingly boring clothes in my closet. I love to create. Creating something where there used to be nothing is entirely life-giving for me. For a lot of reasons, I think God created us to be creators. He is the Ultimate Creator, and we were created in His image. Therefore, we're made to create. Making sense? I imagine it gives God such delight when we create things, when we're using our hands and making new life and using our talents in the process. This year, I'll be praying for the freedom to create; however that looks. I can create on the potter's wheel in class, or in the kitchen for my roommates, or in so many other areas of my life as well. I want to create marvelous from the mundane, new from old, and something out of nothing, because isn't that what God does with each of us?

The last word that I'm adding to my prayer list for this school year is uncomfortable. I want to be uncomfortable; in my thinking, in my relationships, and in my everyday life. I want to be tested and challenged and pushed out of my box of comfort. I don't want my life to be easy and I don't want to be stuck in my thinking. Ever. I don't want to feel content. With every experience, I desire to be pushed and stretched and grown into someone who depends on and trusts in God's character more wholly and completely. And I don't think there's a way to grow by being comfortable. If there is, let me know. But as far as I know, becoming involves being made uncomfortable. And I want that. I want to know God more and fall in love with His goodness and grace and mercy and might more and more and more everyday. And if I need to be uncomfortable to do that, then so be it. It's absolutely worth it. So life, push me out of my comfort zone, because then I'll be challenged to sit at the foot of the cross and rely on my Savior for strength. And there's no place I'd rather be than fully aware of my inability and His divine ability.

Balance. Create. Uncomfortable. That's my life as I'm sitting and staring this new school year in the face. It's my new beginning. What's yours?

Thursday, September 1, 2011

happy 'bers!!

This post will be a little different than normal, because in case you were wondering, today is September 1, 2011. Aside from the fact that 2011 is flying by and I'm losing days and weeks and months time in the blink of an eye and I can't believe it's already September - today marks the beginning of the HAPPY 'BERS!! This is big news!! The best four months of the year are HERE- September, October, November, and December - the happy 'bers!! So, happy 'bers to you! And you! And you! Happy 'bers here and happy 'bers there! It makes me want to give everyone I know a hug. I'm THAT excited!

So many great things to come in the months ahead - leaves changing, weather changing, boots-wearing, sweater shopping, apple picking, bonfire making, s'more eating, cinnamon spice tea drinking, hat-wearing, scarf-wearing, red nail polish rocking, pumpkin carving, carmel apple eating, cuddling-up-with a good book weather, sweatshirt-wearing, warm sock-wearing, apple cider drinking, movie-watching, leaf pile jumping, lots of good eating, Chicago marathon-watching, twenty-second birthday awesomeness, family togetherness, peanut-butter ball eating, holiday joy having, Christmas-music listening, gift giving, gift opening, hug having, snowman making, Christmas cookie decorating, Christmas moving marathon having, snow flake catching on my tongue happiness, and just the simple joyfulness of my favorite four months of the year. There's so much wonderfulness coming in the next four months that my heart is bursting with joy just thinking about it!

Get ready, becauase the happy 'bers are going to be awesome! How will you celebrate??! Need ideas? No worries, I've compiled a glorious photo journey of my celebration and growing appreciation for the happy 'bers through college! Enjoy!