No Child Left Behind, or NCLB took effect in 2001.  I have no doubt in my mind that the lawmakers/authors, who worked in bipartisan fashion, believed that what they were doing was in the best interest of all children, especially those children struggling academically, by providing funding to test annually to determine which schools/teachers were doing their jobs and which were not.  It was great in theory I suppose, a way to make adults accountable for the future success of their students.

One of the unforeseen consequences of this of course, was that states and districts soon became aware that the consequences of students NOT succeeding, based on tests that are anything but a reliable indicator of success, resulted in principals/teachers being removed from schools, schools being closed or schools being taken over.  The fear aroused in these educators resulted in many things, from motiving teachers through “merit pay” (instead of teaching for the love of teaching) for those whose students were “achieving”, to actually cheating for their students on tests.

In a conversation today with colleagues at lunch, one of them stated that Freshmen in college were born the year this took effect.  Based on the theories, hopes and dreams of these lawmakers of the time, this would be the class to demonstrate the effectiveness of NCLB.  After all, NCLB required that schools and educators rely on scientifically  based research for programs and teaching methods.  It required that teachers be evaluated as well.  It required regular testing to make sure students were achieving.  It made sure that all students were receiving equal opportunities. It makes perfect sense.  However, the one thing they left out was relying on the professionalism and input of great teachers.

Fear led teachers and districts to do the “stuff in and regurgitate” method of teaching and testing.  After all, if you test often enough and before the child has a chance to forget it, test results can be skewed in your favor.  Teachers knew this was wrong for kids, but what else were you supposed to do? Schools made a big deal of testing, with everything from pep rallies before testing began, to rewards after they were finished, to sending info home to parents about how important eating right and sleeping before testing was   (like it’s not important EVERY day).  Students started exhibiting test anxiety, only concerned about whether something was right or wrong – after all, their whole lives, their future in college all depended on doing well on these tests.  In elementary school. Where Kindergartners were crying because they were stressed and tired.  After all, if you don’t test well you’re dumb, right?  Even in Kindergarten.

So, now what is the result of these practices on students?  Well, based on observations and conversations with educators at all levels, we’ve done something beyond harmful.  We’ve not taught students how to think for themselves and understand that mistakes are one of the ways we learn best.  We’ve taught them that assessments are the end all, and that learning because learning is fun is obsolete.  We’ve taught them that reading is serious business and they can’t just read whatever interests them, that it must have a purpose.  We’ve taught them to be afraid of failure and to avoid it at all costs, and for those kids who can’t handle it emotionally, we’ve trained kids to give up and act out.

But surely they just miraculously grow out of this, right?  Well, no they don’t.  In a conversation with my colleagues, even at the collegiate level, students are afraid to take risks or to be creative because they’re afraid of being wrong or failing.  They want everything to contain lists or checkboxes, so they can just mark things off of a list instead of thinking for themselves.  They’re constantly asking for affirmation, did they do ok, did they do it the right way.  And it’s not just once in a while, it’s constantly.  They’re expected to make connections with very diverse subjects, something they’ve never had to do before because all they were tested on was reading and math.  They’ve read ABOUT science and social studies as part of reading assignments, but not necessarily as a singular subject because it wasn’t always tested.

And what about those students now beginning their teaching careers?  All they know is this method of teaching because it’s how they were taught.  They don’t know what it was like before NCLB, that teachers were allowed to discern for themselves how their students/classes were doing and make decisions based on their knowledge of teaching.  Teaching was an art form, not something any robot could do.  Parents and those outside the teaching profession now realize something is wrong with schools and are resorting to charter, private and on-line schools, attributing the problem to everything EXCEPT that teachers used to be trusted to know what was best for kids and now they’re not.

The question now is, with ESSA, or the “Every Child Succeeds Act”, have we learned from the past or are we going to stick with the status quo?  What are we going to do with these children who are now adults, who are not prepared to make it in the real world where mistakes will be made and affirmation for every movement will not be given?  A world where connections between subject matters are important and expected and not everything can be answered by asking Google?  We left the children behind.  Now are we going to leave the adults behind too?

A typical first grade music lesson – teaching basic rhythms through words.  The kids were using the words Dog, Puppy, Egg and Chicken to form measures of 4/4 time, just saying the words, then clapping along with the words.  Then I asked them to “hear the words in their heads” and try to just clap the syllables (rhythms).  Officially this is called audiation and it’s hard.  So hard that for me it’s just an experiment to see how far I can take them before they crash and burn.  I’m not looking for perfection, I’m looking for kids who are willing to try something different.  Up until today, the classes had met that expectation of experimentation, but the results were less then stellar.

Then we added some simple rhythm instruments instead of the clapping.  This is where it usually gets messy.  Where they tend to have trouble is switching from the end of one line of rhythms to the beginning of the next – there always seems to be a pause or hesitation.  But not today.  These little guys just pushed right through, so together, that on the very last “note” – a “ta” or quarter note, there was dead silence afterwards.  There was this slight intake of breath from everyone, including me, and then, breaking the silence was this little voice who very clearly and enthusiastically said, “OUT-standing!”

Another second of silence and the whole room erupted with laughter.  “Outstanding!” they said to one another, followed by more laughter.  For me however, it immediately brought back my dad, a man of few words, whose only utterance when something really impressed him was something like “Faaaan-tastic” or “OUT-standing”.  He would have gotten a kick out of this.  I had pushed these little guys pretty far and they took on the challenge successfully.  It was the perfect way to celebrate.

“Outstanding” from my dad could come from any number of experiences.  A high school band performance I marched in.  My son making it through basic training.  Seeing my first house. Me graduating from college.  Watching the Cornhusker Marching Band on video led by his son-in-law.  A great musical recording.  A great meal.  He never elaborated, but the expression in his voice would say it all.  “OUT-standing” with a big smile on his face or sunglasses to hide a stray tear welling in his eye.  A very articulate man, with a wealth of vocabulary, I look back now and wonder why he didn’t elaborate more often.

You see, men of his generation didn’t express themselves with a lot of exuberance.  Very matter of fact and slightly stoic, the only time you would see him emote at all was when he was listening to a great piece of music, followed perhaps, for anyone listening, by a very satisfied “Outstanding”.  I often wonder, now that he’s been gone, what kinds of things would illicit those words again.  My sons getting married, buying their first houses, adopting his great-grandsons, me serving at a state and national level, his son-in-law becoming a successful “Big 10” band director.  So hearing that word burst from that little guy this afternoon was a gift, a reminder of someone who has been gone for a while now, but still lives, through his words in my memories.

OUT-standing.

My friend walked into my little office outside my music room, took my hand and said “we need to pray”.  Slightly bewildered, I said ok and we knelt on the old orange carpet of my office, her words praying for our country, for those affected by this event and some other things I don’t remember.  I didn’t know what had happened.  My classroom did not have a TV, I wasn’t living on my cell phone and I hadn’t seen anything.  She gave me a hug and went back to her room, leaving me confused.

For the rest of the day I wondered.  I had not seen anything yet.  I know that’s probably hard to believe, but I was busy teaching my kids all day and operated as usual.  I wasn’t going home after school as I had a booster meeting to attend at the high school, 30 minutes down the highway from home, so I left the elementary school, drove to the little town where I picked up a burger from the local bar and grill and took it to the high school to eat.  I had over an hour to wait, so  I sat down in the band room, turned on the TV and began my dinner.

The first thing I saw was footage from that morning.  I’m pretty sure my mouth gaped open for quite a while while I watched as my dinner got cold.  How did I miss this that morning?  How did everyone know about this except me?  By the time the boosters arrived I’m not sure how we had a meeting and I don’t remember it.  I do know that for the next week or so I walked around in a daze, traumatized by the sights I had seen, crying at weird times, wondering where we were going from here because looking at New York and Washington, recovery seemed so monumental.  Not just the physical recovery, but the psychological recovery.

In the meantime, our oldest son had watched this unfold in the band room of his high school and he made a life changing decision.  He was going to enlist in the military and serve his country and fight the enemy.  And who was the enemy?  We didn’t really know yet, some kind of extremists who made us realize as a country just how vulnerable we were.  A country that once seemed impenetrable, invincible, was now a victim.  And it changed my son’s life.  He retired after 12 years, a year of that in Afghanistan, with hearing loss, bad knees, multiple concussions and PTSD.  The attack has penetrated our family personally.

Every time I get in line to go through airport security I’m reminded of the event and terrorism in general.  I take off my shoes because of some shoe bomber.  I can’t carry any liquids over 3 ounces because more of certain liquids can explode. The cockpit door of the plane I’m on is sealed shut so that nobody can storm the cockpit.  I am x-rayed, sometimes swabbed and sometimes inappropriately searched because of this event.  The event we’re reminded to never forget.

I’ve stood at ground zero where a beautiful but somber memorial sits, thousands of names engraved on a wall surround a pool of water.  Someone places flowers near the names of those celebrating birthdays, reminding all of the birthdays these people will never again celebrate.  Visitors speak in hushed, reverent tones, feeling the energy of those who died on that very spot, not wanting to disturb their rest.

It has been 18 years to the day since that event and instead of coming together as as country like we did right after this event, this attack, we’ve turned to attacking each other.  Who needs enemies when we’ve made enemies of each other?  It makes you wonder if there are others around the world who just shake their heads at those crazy Americans who can’t get along with each other, much less the rest of the world.  I’m sure that if those thousands of people who died that day could talk to us, they would slap us in the face and ask us what the hell we’re doing, wasting our lives hating each other the way we do instead of using every minute we have to love each other, no matter what.  Because you just never know if and when another event could happen.

I was reading a transcript of an interview by WPR with Tim Slekar, Dean of the School of Education at Edgewood College who believes that there is a mass teacher exodus, not a shortage.  He blames testing accountability for this exodus, but it was something he said during the interview that personally hit home.

“I now have teachers say to me, “I’m being asked to do things, and in fact I’ve done things that are not best for kids. I’m leaving, I’m demoralized”.

You know, I hadn’t really thought about it before, but this really hit the nail on the head for me.  You know, I LOVE teaching and I wouldn’t still be doing this if I didn’t believe with everything in my being that what I teach and how I teach it didn’t make a difference in a child’s life.  However, as time goes on, I find myself questioning how education is moving and if what the research is saying is really the research we should be looking at AND if that research is what is best for kids.

The thought of doing something that might actually harm a child’s development of any kind – social, emotional, academic, physically, artistically – concerns me greatly.  My personal experience with education for the most part was exceptionally positive.  I loved and still love learning.  My teachers challenged me, showed me how to find the answers for myself (pre-google of course) and gave me educational independence. I want my students to love learning.  My job is to teach them to love learning so that one day I can let them jump from the nest so that they too can fly freely through the educational environment.  However, the way education is structured today, whether it’s public, charter or anything else is, I believe, is not conducive to children learning to love learning or discovering things on their own.  Structured assessments on a limited number of subjects have reduced teaching to jamming information into kids heads enough for them to spit it out so they can jam more into their heads.  Research tells us that kids retain more when they do more and do it themselves.  The latest research is also telling us that kids retain more when they write information on paper instead of on a device, but that’s another subject for another day.

All this to say is that it breaks my heart when I see little ones walk into school dreading what the day will bring.  There should be excitement at seeing friends and looking forward to what they get to learn today.  It IS possible to have an environment like this.  I’m living proof of it.  It’s a matter of whether or not we choose to do this for our kids.

I should say at this point that I don’t believe those making these decisions are purposefully trying to hurt kids.  They are only looking for answers to help lessen the achievement gap and other admirable goals.  However, as a teacher, one who has made a career of observing children’s learning styles and behaviors, I feel pretty confident I can figure things out when it comes to how to teach a student effectively.  I have achieved the degrees necessary to get the teaching certificate, renewing it periodically within the state guidelines, I am trusted to teach student teachers how to teach children in a classroom and YET there are those who have never stepped into a classroom (or very briefly) who are telling not only me but ALL teachers how to teach.  Yes, it is demoralizing, especially when some of those directives go against what we know is good for kids.  Ethically, it is difficult for teachers to reconcile going against everything they believe is good for kids.

The biggest issue with education today is not money, it’s not resources, it’s not all about the kids, it’s about teachers at risk.  Teachers who are suffering from anxiety and depression.  Teachers who are spending more time on administrative duties than they are teaching.  Teachers who are not trusted to do the job they were trained to do.   Our younger generation of teachers unfortunately don’t know anything different, that at one point in time, teachers were respected for their professionalism, their knowledge and that they were trusted to do the best thing for kids.  I am in agreement with Mr. Slekar and believe if we don’t do something for our teachers at risk, this exodus will continue, affecting our students and ultimately, our future.

The town of Stromsburg Nebraska, population 1,171, is a sweet little place, full of pretty houses and manicured lawns and a cute little downtown that reflects its Swedish heritage.  It’s a small, close knit farming community with traditional values and a simple lifestyle.  Our trip this morning was a somber one as it was to support a friend who lost his mother at the age of 93.

Just like the rest of town, the pretty little church was well taken care of, with it’s beautiful wooden ceiling and colorful stained class windows depicting stories from the Bible.  The wood pews were polished and well maintained and the decor was simple.  The focus after all was on God, not on the church itself.  We sat with friends and for a while we were just about the only ones in the sanctuary.  My thoughts turned to my parents’ funerals, my dad’s especially, where very few people attended, partly because of his age, but partly because he just didn’t get close to very many people.

The pastor arrived and soon the organ was playing as the family entered, quickly filling one entire side of the church.  Sons, daughter-in-laws, a son-in-law, brothers, a sister, grandchildren, nieces and nephews all filed in to say goodbye to someone who had obviously been very special.  Betty Nielsen had been a farmer’s wife for over 70 years and had raised four boys.  One of those boys is a great friend of mine, and if he is any indication of her nurturing abilities, she raised men who are kind, respectful and think of others over self.

A poem was read about a farmer’s wife, highlighting the simple life of family, service, faith and thankfulness.  Although I did not know her personally, I got the impression that she was practical, that she didn’t feel the need to have a high profile career or fancy fashion to be happy.  She seems to have made the decision to just BE happy, to enjoy the life she had chosen and be thankful for it.  Her love for others was obvious in the number of people who showed up to pay their respects today.

There were three hymns chosen for the service,  “How Great Thou Art”, “In the Garden” and “Amazing Grace” – praise, prayer and thankfulness.  I believe one of the things that happens during funerals is that you take time to evaluate your own life and ask yourself if your priorities are in the right place.  Am I spending time praising, in prayer and being thankful?  Or am I wasting time I could be spending with God and family, focused on myself and my “busyness”?

I believe most of us crave simplicity in our lives but very few of us are willing to let go of some things to attain that simplicity.  Some of us need to let go of things, others need to let go of busyness and still others need to let go of self.  Simplicity doesn’t just happen.  It won’t just happen when you retire or if you get another job or if you decide to move out to the country.  Simplicity is changing priorities, changing your lifestyle, changing yourself.  Simplicity is harder than it looks.

Maybe not all are called to a life of simplicity.  Maybe it’s only for those special few who are here to teach us what could be.

We were standing out in the hallway talking today, one of my favorite little guys and I.  Oh, he’s a challenge, that’s for sure, but in the last year or so, I’ve really learned to care for and appreciate him.  Today when he walked in my room, I could tell he was struggling a bit and after only a few minutes in class, I decided to ask him to go for a walk with me.  (Thank goodness for my student teacher!) He was a little wary at first as I’m sure he thought I might be walking him down the hall to the office, but as he hadn’t done anything to warrant a trip to the office, we stood in the hallway and talked instead.

The conversation took an interesting turn when he said, “you know, you’re the second hardest teacher in school”.  So I asked him, is this a good or a bad thing, to which he replied, “oh, it’s a good thing”.  So my next question was, who is the first hardest teacher?  “Oh, that’s Mrs. S.”  And why is she the first hardest?  “She’s very serious about her stuff.” Now, this is a child who struggles with any number of things and yet he appreciates the “hard” teachers.  In fact, after talking with Mrs. S. about this conversation, she shared with me how well he does in her class and how he loves her classroom. I’ve been thinking about this most of the afternoon and here are my thoughts and theories about kids like my little friend.

First of all, kids want (whether they know it or not) and NEED structure.  There have to be rules and those rules are meant to be followed.  Not arbitrary rules, but rules with a purpose.  This is not just to make my life easier for me as a teacher, but it is a life skill that needs to be learned by the student.  I know of  no profession, no job, no educational institution that doesn’t have rules to follow.  Can there be too many rules?  Absolutely!  Too many rules just makes things confusing for the kid.  However, well thought out, simple rules for my classroom, explained thoroughly and followed through consistently are essential for every child, no matter how compliant or strong willed they may be.

Secondly, kids appreciate adults who are honest with them.  There is absolutely a way to speak truth to kids in a no-nonsense way to let them know that you care but that perhaps what they’re doing is not the smartest thing they’ve ever done and why it’s not ok.  Of course, listening is important first, but after that, when the time is right, honesty can do an amazing amount of good.  It may not be what they want to hear at the moment, but revisiting it later after you’re sure they’re listening completely change their perspective.

Lastly – it’s all about building relationships.  A couple of years ago, before I developed a relationship with this little guy, it was all I could do to get him to do ANYTHING, much less confide in me.  That’s one of the things I like most about being a specialist and one of the the things that’s hardest about being a specialist.  I get to spend  6 years developing relationships  with kids.  And the hardest part is spending six years with hundreds of kids and attempting to build relationships with them.

So, how does it feel to be the second hardest teacher at school?  Pretty good actually.  Because if one of my kids who is struggling can talk with me about it in the hallway, we must have developed a pretty good relationship, and that’s ok with me.

 

Strength. While there are many definitions of the word, the one we’re going to focus on is “The emotional or mental qualities necessary in dealing with situations or events that are distressing or difficult”.  This past week I have witnessed strength in the lives of certain friends in my life and I stand amazed at how resilient they can be in the face of difficult or seemingly impossible circumstances.

Life throws stuff our way every day, sometimes expected, sometimes smacking us in the face out of the blue, and it is our strength of character that shows up in our attitude and in our words.  I will admit to you that at times I can be quite the whiney butt, not my most attractive attribute for sure, and usually it’s about something relatively miniscule.  My hope is that in times of real adversity that I can display the strength necessary to persevere like others I have witnessed.  And while I have witnessed great strength from these people, I also know that their true strength comes from their faith, a faith they know they can depend on, a faith they know will hold them up when they feel like they can’t take any more.

Strength also comes from the unconditional love of friends and family, those who are available to just listen when needed, not necessarily giving advice or trying to fix things, but a solid shoulder for them to cry on, an ear to cry into.  A hug with no words can be a powerful strength builder, something anyone can give.  Listening to those who are struggling and giving them support and hugs is an honor and helps to feed our suffering friends, giving them additional strength when they feel they have none.  It costs nothing and yet is worth everything.

Strength comes knowing that sometimes life is just life and Life. Is. Hard.  It’s knowing that you’ve survived hard times before and that you can survive something else.  It’s the fact that someone in your life allowed you to experience the hard knocks and showed you how to brush yourself off that built up your strength.  I often wonder, as I watch our bubble wrapped generation of kids, if one day they’re going to face a situation that nobody can fix for them or protect them from and I’ll see them collapse into a heap.  We’re already hearing stories of young college students dropping out of school because for once mom and dad can’t step in and protect them when the professor won’t deviate from the syllabus and take in late work.  And this is MINOR.  Allowing a child to face adversity isn’t cruel, it’s cruel NOT to allow a child to face it.  I’m not saying to abandon the child, but if you want to teach a child to be strong, you have to allow them to experience adversity when it happens to let them see and experience that they CAN be strong.

I have faith in my friends who are facing adversity that they will not only survive these hard times but will come out stronger in the end.  That’s the thing about strength, just when you think you can’t take any more of life, your strength can grow and teach you otherwise.  You are loved more than you know, you are gaining wisdom as you go forward, and you are stronger than you think.

 

My memory has never been the best.  It’s very difficult to remember anything from my childhood and there are parts of my adulthood where I feel like it just flew by in one big “whoosh” and I completely missed them.  Of course I can remember all kinds of completely useless trivia and if someone is missing something in the house I know exactly where I remember seeing it, but something important like someone’s name, not so much.

It makes me wonder if I just don’t put in enough effort.  Or maybe I just have a huge part of my brain for trivia that works and the part where I should remember important things doesn’t.  It just seems like I have to work harder than I used to and I’m not about to blame it on getting older.  That just seems too easy.  Especially when I can remember lyrics to obscure songs from the 70’s with every inflection in the recording.  Seriously, ask me about any Carpenter’s song. What’s most frustrating is that some days I’m hitting on all cylinders, everything rolls off of my tongue and the transitions and vocabulary are flawless and then the next day I can’t remember what in the heck that thingamabob is called.

I’ve noticed this year that I get home from school and can’t remember what happened all day.  It used to be that I would remember something funny that the kids did or a poignant story and be able to write about it.  Now I get home and it’s as though the day happened to me and I’ve been sideswiped by a train or something.  Where did the day go and how did I function in it?  There was one part I remembered today, and that was a creepy wolf spider climbing down my wall during class.  There’s nothing like trying to remain cool in front of first graders when you secretly want to run screaming for the custodian’s help.  Apparently I can remember traumatic things with no problem.

Is it that I just don’t want to remember?  That there’s nothing important or fun to remember?  Or is it that everything is the same day after day and just runs together?  There’s always this little fear in the back of my mind that maybe there’s something wrong, that Alzheimer’s has kicked in and this is the beginning of the end.  My grandmother had Alzheimer’s and I remember feeling so sad that this happy, vibrant woman was now so confused and sad.  And then I tell myself, nah, you’re just stressed and when you stress, you have trouble remembering things.  No sense in freaking out before I need to.

At the very least, I’m afraid I’m just letting life pass me by, mindlessly going through my day, going on automatic.  Pretty sure that’s what most people would call a rut.  I’m not complaining, just realizing that a change must be in order, something new that’s more memorable, something really worth remembering.  Maybe it’s purposefully watching what is going on or trying to see things in a different way.  Perhaps it’s something as simple as taking a new route to work or beginning my classes a different way.  After all, nobody is going to create memories for me, I have to create them myself.  And in the process, perhaps I will be able to remember more of what happens in my life.

The commercial is for a financial investment company who points out to the potential customer that in our world, everything revolves around the individual, that everything is and should be customized to their specific wants and needs and that as a financial investment company, they too want everything to revolve around you, the customer because you deserve it.  Who am I to say anything against that?  I too would love my world to be customized to my wants and needs, and to some extent it is.  I mean, after all, my donut guy knows exactly what I want when I stop in.  It’s wonderful.  But what I’m concerned about is how easy it can be to just assume or even demand that everything will revolve around my wants and needs.

I get it when things don’t go our way.  There’s disappointment, frustration and even anger that wells up.  However, as adults, we know that not everything revolves around us because a lot of us were taught that as children, right?  I mean, I never hear adults on social media complain because things aren’t going exactly the way they think they should go just for them and what they personally believe/want/need.  That would be childish.  And I expect childish from children. For instance, this past week, the 5th graders in my district were being treated to a minor league baseball game.  It’s a great time for kids to get together with their classmates, feel a little independence (under the watchful eye of teachers of course) and get to have some fun.  However, this year unfortunately, there was an act of God.  A very wet, lightning filled, act of God – and the game was cancelled.  It happened right before I was to have my 5th graders for choir, so I had to tell them the bad news.

Of course there was major disappointment, to the point where several kids were in tears.  They’re ten so I expect this kind of thing.  Then there were the questions like, are they going to reschedule it?  No, there are too many logistics involved to change it (and too hard to explain that to kids).  Then came things like “they owe us!” and “we’ve been scammed”, things I’m sure they’ve heard from someone older than they are and they were angry.  Someone needed to fix it for them and fix it now.  This is where I very calmly suggested that nobody owes them anything and that sometimes life happens.  Not what they wanted to hear.  But that’s what they pay us teachers the big bucks right?

But mine wasn’t the only school.  My grandsons told me that kids cried at their school too, but my grandsons come from a completely different perspective in life.  These boys grew up with very little and lived in foster homes.  They’re usually very grateful for what they get and while disappointed, they understand all too well, that sometimes life happens.  Even when it should have been all about them, it wasn’t

The reason the commercial hit a nerve however is that as a society, we’re demanding to be paid attention to as individuals.  The individual is more important than the whole. It’s in the simple way we name our children so that nobody else has a name like theirs, a name their teachers can’t remember how to say or spell and a name where that child will never be able to get one of those cool little license plates with it spelled correctly and will have to settle for one that says “Winner” or something on it instead.  A world where they will have to spell their name for people for the rest of their lives.

Many years ago I had a child in class who obviously was used to having things their way because it was all about them.  I knew this because she tried to do something once (I can’t even remember what it was) and I told her no.  She then proceeded to say, “but I WANT it!”, over and over again, assuming that just because she kept saying it that eventually I would say, “well, ok, since you asked so many times, sure”.  She quickly learned that while yes, she was important to me, that there were 20+ students in my class that were also important and what we did was important for everyone and not just her.

What scares me now is that we have adults behaving in the same way.  “But I WANT it”.  Well, that’s great, but other people may be involved who may want or need something different.  There may not be anything you can do about it now.  Maybe it’s just not meant to be. You may need this experience to learn patience or how to have a better attitude or sharing or any number of things.  Hey, I would love to live in utopia where everyone got everything they wanted or needed and there were rainbows and unicorns everywhere.  Unfortunately, whether you believe in the fall of man like I do or something else, life is filled with humans and where you have humans you have faults and mistakes and life happens.  And in the process, we can either choose to think it’s all about me and react accordingly or we can figure out what we need to learn about this particular situation and how to make things better in the future, not just for us for for others.  Oh, and figure out that change takes time.  There’s that patience thing again.

How do I know this?  Because I struggle with this all the time.  Laziness and impatience, among others, are things I struggle with daily, but after all of these years, I’m figuring out it’s not all about me.  It’s how I relate to others, how I can help others, how I can make make others look and feel good.  And honestly, I feel better afterwards.  Maybe you CAN teach an old dog new tricks and the trick is,  it’s not all about me.

It was one of those posts that caught my eye as I was rapidly scrolling through my Facebook feed. Yes, I do that more often than I would like to admit.  The picture was of a beautiful mountainous area where all you saw were the person’s feet, obviously relaxing after a hike.  But it was the words that hit me hard; “I saw this post that said “Self-care is creating a life you don’t routinely have to escape from”, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

In my parents’ and grandparents’ day, there was no such thing as “self care”.  It usually meant someone had gone off to “find themselves” and my dad especially would laugh with something like, how did they lose themselves?  Looking back on it now, I wish my mom had done some self care, because like most things, if you don’t take care of yourself first, it’s difficult to take care of others.  Sacrificing oneself out of love for another is one thing, but to do it to the point where it drains you completely is simply dangerous for both parties involved.  But those generations prided themselves on their “pull yourself up by your bootstraps mentality” and seemingly never ending resilience, which is great – until the bootstrap breaks.

But life is just – life.  Right?  You work hard at your job and raising a family and creating a home and all the minute by minute logistics that go with that and hopefully once in a while you run away for a couple of days or a week, rejuvenating yourself enough (hopefully) so that you can make it until the next break.  But does it have to be that way? What would it look like for our lives to be a place where we never wanted to escape from and how could we make that happen?  Does it take a lot of time or money to accomplish that?  Or does it just take some dreaming and a leap of faith?  Or maybe it’s just rearranging some priorities.

It has been a while since I first saw this post and I’ve been thinking about it off and on since then.  What kinds of things/places do I run away to?  Why do I go there?  What is it about my every life that makes me feel like I want to run away?  Well, for a lot of us it may be an unfulfilling career or job, or maybe a job you’ve just outgrown.  So many of us stay in the same type of position for many years, perhaps thinking we have no other choice.  And yet as a person we continue to grow, so why wouldn’t we eventually outgrow things we do or places we live?

What is it about those places we run away to?  For me it’s exploring new places, eating great food, spending quality time with my husband or family or just a place to get away from the hustle and bustle and slowing down.  It usually doesn’t mean stopping completely because I’m pretty sure I would be bored in about 5 minutes, but getting away from a rigid schedule and allowing me some flexibility.  These things are all certainly do-able on a daily basis, but that would entail making changes – and change is HARD.  But if it meant feeding myself, providing that self-care so that I could care better for others and maybe change my little piece of the world, would it be worth it?  Would it be worth it to improve my health and lessen my stress level?  It sounds great in theory, but would I, CAN I make myself change what I am accustomed to make life more livable?

But self care isn’t just about my job or career.  It’s the little every day things in life.  Getting enough sleep, healthy eating, exercising – and making it something I LIKE and not something I feel like I have to do.  It’s stepping away from the toxic, negative people in your life, and taking time to appreciate the small, beautiful things.  It’s doing the silly frivolous thing instead of the serious thing when you can, creating simple memories of the fun stuff.  It’s surrounding yourself with the things and people you love, the colors, textures and scents that feed you, creating as much of a sanctuary as you can in the spaces where you live.

In the last several years I’ve worked to do that, making my personal spaces beautiful and comfortable, making them places I look forward to being.  It doesn’t have to be expensive – collecting your favorite photos, a beautiful flower in a simple vase, a cup of your favorite tea or glass of wine.  It doesn’t mean I don’t still have to load the dishwasher or wash a load of clothes, but I can certainly take a few minutes to decompress in a beautiful space.  So maybe I can’t quit my job and move to Key West right now to be a writer like Hemingway, but I can create a space where I am right now that allows me to take time to be creative.

So, what kind of life do you want to create and how can you take steps to make it happen?  A life where you can regularly fill your bucket and make things better, not only for yourself but for everyone around you.