My Own Little World

There is a boy in my class this year who is special. Special meaning different, special meaning challenging, special meaning -- amazing. I want to talk about my experience with him from start to present, and how he is changing my outlook on teaching, and I'm going to do so with a song. The lyrics to the song "My Own Little World" my Matthew West have a lot to do with the reason my heart has softened toward this boy.

Here is the video if you want to listen to the song before reading:

Matthew West - My Own Little World

In my own little world it hardly ever rains. I've never gone hungry, always felt safe. I've got some money in my pocket, shoes on my feet. In my own little world, population: me.

 When I came into teaching in a private school, I had a lot of preconceived notions. After growing up in public school and doing all of my college experiences in public school, I knew about challenging kids and "different" kids and needy kids. When I got hired at St. Thomas', I thought, "Wow! I'm going to have the cream of the crop! Of course some of the boys will have their own little issues, but nothing too big." 

You see, I've never had a strong desire to help low functioning students. That may sound callous, but my passion is for the content I'm teaching. I am good at breaking concepts down for the students and explaining things in different ways, but I do not have an innate desire for helping children with special needs. This is why teaching at a private school would be perfect for me -- more of a focus on content and less on ARDs, behavior intervention plans, modifications, etc.

So last year, my first year at STE, I had a group of extremely bright boys with a few lower functioning students mixed in. The lowest boy in the class had no social issues, so his main problem was academics. I struggled with him quite a bit, but I could at least count on him to get along with his classmates.

Fast forward to this year: I have twenty seven boys, five of whom are new, and one of whom is very, VERY behind socially, and has anxiety issues which affect his academics. I found out about these issues gradually. I started noticing some outbursts in class, awkward interactions with the boys, and a lot of tears. It wasn't until around the fifth week that I received official information on him and his special needs.

My first thoughts: What the heck?! Why was this boy allowed in to the school? We shouldn't be taking kids like him! I've got enough on my plate being a self-contained (teaching all subjects) teacher with 27 boys...how could they let in a boy with special needs?

Part of my reaction was justified. Our school simply is not as equipped as other schools to handle children with special needs. We don't have FOCUS mentors like public school does, nor do we have specialized counselors.......

Most of my reaction was selfish. 

What if there's a bigger picture? What if I'm missing out? What if there's a greater purpose that I could be living right now? Outside my own little world......

I talked things over with my mom, and she told me a story about a boy that she almost taught in Orange. She said that she knew about him, and had heard he was trouble. Her principal wanted to place him in her class, but I was a newborn, and my brothers were little -- she had a lot on her plate. She asked the principal to please place him in a different class, and he did. That year, the boy moved into a dilapidated trailer near my family's house. She noticed he was alone most of the time and invited him to play with Mark and Pat in the afternoons. The worst part of the situation was what she saw at school. When she looked out her window across at his classroom, she would periodically see his teacher pull him outside and berate him while his classmates looked on through the window and laughed.

She said she never forgave herself for pushing that boy off on someone else, and wanted me to consider how another teacher could possibly treat my boy if I pushed him away.

Stopped at a red light, looked out my window. I saw a cardboard sign that said, "Help this homeless widow." And just above that sign was the face of a human. I thought to myself, "God, what have I been doin?  

So after I found out all of the information I could on my boy, I scheduled a conference with his mother and our head of lower school. The point of the meeting? We need to see change in two weeks or else.... well, you know where I'm going with that. Or else he's out. Or else he's someone else's problem.

I was prepared to be concise in the meeting. I was prepared to be strict and straightforward, and I was not prepared to budge. I mean, this woman withheld information about her son to get him into the school! How dare she!!! They should be punished!!

So I rolled down the window and I looked her in the eye. Oh, how many times have I just passed her by? I gave her some money then I drove on through and my own little world reached population: two.

As you would probably guess, that is not how the meeting went. His mother's nerves were enough to soften my demeanor. As we discussed his problem areas, his therapist, who joined us for the meeting, provided a huge deal of insight on the boy as well as how I can help him. The tips she gave me were not time consuming nor labor intensive -- they were simple, quick ways to help him in the moment.

God was working on my heart.

What if there's a bigger picture? What if I'm missing out? What if there's a greater purpose that I could be living right now? Outside my own little world......

 My whole demeanor towards this boy changed after that meeting. Once I stopped seeing him as a nuisance, a waste of time, a whiny baby, someone who shouldn't be at this school, and started seeing him as a boy -- a little boy with some issues that he needs help fixing...a little boy who God obviously put in my life for a reason -- my whole persona changed.

And guess what happened? He changed. He became more receptive to me. He didn't get mad at me when I tried to help him in class. He talked to me more. He smiled more!

And guess what else happened? The other boys noticed. They started playing with him more and including him more at recess. They started listening to him more. They changed because I changed.

Father, break my heart for what breaks yours. Give me open hands and open doors. Put your light in my eyes and let me see that my own little world is not about me.

God opened my eyes. He reminded me that it is not about me -- it's never about me. My mission on earth is to serve others and to bring God glory in the process. What am I doing by turning my back on one of his own? And a child nonetheless! I'm certainly not fulfilling my mission.

It is still a process. My boy still struggles socially and it will be a hard year for him, but thanks to the encouragement of my family and fellow teachers -- and, ultimately, God -- he has a special place in my heart. I pray that God continues to soften my heart and helps me to love all of my students, regardless of whatever issues they may have.

Things 5th Grade Boys Say: Part Deux

As always, I come to you after a bit of a hiatus. I had grand plans to blog all summer and then...nope. I don't have an excuse, either. It was probably because I had nothing to put off. I usually blog because I should be doing something else, like grading papers or entering grades.

I do have some new (and old) funny things to write about. Again, I will open with this disclaimer: a lot of these situations may only be funny to me, because I have the ....pleasure?...curse?... of knowing and dealing with these boys. Without the appropriate voice inflections and facial expressions, some of these stories don't have the same effect as when they happened in real life. I have also changed names for privacy's sake.

I will try my best.


Distracted Urinator
This is one that happened last year, towards the beginning of the year, actually. The boys were all headed out to the playground for lunch and recess. I was about to close and lock up the room, when one of the boys came in and said,
 "Ms. Hebert, Jacob peed all over the bathroom floor."

At this point, Jacob came in the room.

"Jacob, is this true?" I asked.

His reply:

"Yes... but it's only because while I was going, Michael started talking to me, and I forgot what I was doing and turned to talk to him."

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. This boy forgot he was peeing, and turned, mid-urination, to reply to his classmate. You can't make this stuff up.

Ace Ventura Hair
We recently had some extremely hot weather. Our playground is surrounded by buildings, and is about 10 degrees hotter in the summer, and 10 degrees colder in the winter. Regardless of the weather, you can always count on the boys to run around constantly, completely unphased by the oppressive, nauseating heat. We'd always have to have a cool-down time in the classroom after recess to recover from the surface of the sun that we had been playing on.

On one of these particularly hot days, the boys were cooling off in the classroom right after recess. All was mellow, until I heard some snickering. I looked up, and one of the boys had styled his sweaty hair to look like Ace Ventura. For those unfamiliar with Ace Ventura....

Of course, after this boy did this and got some laughs, the rest of the boys turned into Ace Ventura clones, thanks to their sweat-drenched hair.

Doritos Mouth
This past week, I picked up on a very funny incident during snack time. The boys who sit in the group right next to my desk were all talking about - who knows what they were talking about. Two of them are HUGE talkers who talk a mile-a-minute, incessantly. I guess one got fed up with the other, and I heard him say, "Dude, I will give you five Doritos if you will just stop talking for the rest of snack time."

I thought this to be HILARIOUS since the one who made the request is the biggest talker out of the class. I called him out on it too, obviously.

I told him, "Don't you think it's funny that you - the person who talks the most, always, everywhere, at any given time of day - would be bribing someone ELSE to stop talking??"

His only response was a huge smile with a mouth full of Doritos.

Buzzards at a ... Funeral Home?
Since the weather was so lovely last week, we ate lunch outside on the playground. Some of the boys were sitting on the ground next to the bench where I was sitting. They were chatting away about this and that, when they started talking about what they'd seen on different road trips they had been on. One of the sweet, innocent, adorable ones was talking about driving to Austin the week before, and passing a funeral home.

"So we're driving back from Austin, and we pass this funeral home. There are buzzards EVERYWHERE...all over the parking lot and on top of the building, and I just thought, 'There must be a whole lot of dead people in there!"'

Bathroom Shakes
One of the battles a teacher often has to deal with is phony bathroom requests. Since I give scheduled bathroom breaks, my rule is that you may only go to the restroom if it's an emergency. Emergency means you are going to pee yourself in the next five minutes.

Well, the boys weren't really getting this rule. They were totally abusing it during the first two weeks of school. You get to the point where you can tell if it's really an emergency by the way they ask. If they're asking casually, it's probably not a very pressing issue. When it IS an emergency, there is a certain pleading look in their eyes, and they're usually bouncing around and shaking their body.

I, unfortunately, made the mistake of telling them the signs of a bathroom emergency, so now they'll come up to me and WAY overexaggerate the pleading eyes and bouncing around. As annoying as it is...it's also pretty funny.


On a serious note....

Strong Enough
This story is more serious than funny. The boys have a memory verse that they must memorize every week for a quiz, and then random classes are chosen to recite the verse in chapel on Friday. This past week's memory verse was Philippians 4:13 - "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength". As I was driving to school on Wednesday morning, I was listening to a song by Matthew West called "Strong Enough". The song is about how we're not strong enough to handle things on our own, but God is strong enough to help us through anything. In the end of the song, Matthew West says, "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength, and I don't have to be strong enough."

Here is the song:

I decided to play the song for the boys and have them follow along with the lyrics on the smartboard. At the end of the song, I explained its meaning and how lucky we are to be at a school where we can openly talk about our faith and values. I told them that even though they're young, some of them have been through hard things and have had to rely on God for strength. (So true, as one of them has a brother battling brain cancer, many have divorced parents, among many other issues.) I also told them that even if they haven't been through any big trials, they will probably experience hardships at some point in their life and will need to know that God is always there for them.

When I finished talking, one of them raised his hand.

He said, "When my parents got divorced, it was really hard. My sister cried a lot, but I didn't cry. It still hurt really bad, but I know God was there for me."

Such a sweetheart, and such pure and strong faith. I had to compose myself before I could talk again.





That is about all I have for now. I am positive that there will be more silly things happening, and hopeful that there will be more inspirational things happening.

Until next time!

Terror on I10

I am going to recount to you the events that occurred on Saturday, the twelfth of May, in the year two thousand twelve. Allow me to preface this by saying that I have never been in a car accident, or anything dramatic relating to a car, with the exception of a few fender benders. Therefore, while you may deem this as over dramatic, it was the scariest thing that has ever happened to me.


Prepare yourself.


I love the beach. I had been dying to go to the beach for a very long time, and I had decided that this would be the weekend. I had taken a personal day on Friday in celebration of Katie C's birthday weekend, (and because my personal days don't roll over to next year so...I needed to use it,) and Rachel had come in to town, so our plan was to roll down to Galveston and acquire a healthy glow whilst taking in the sounds and smells of the vast, turquoise blue (HA!) waters of Galveston.

Because Mother Nature likes to bitch-slap any plans Rachel and I ever make involving visits to bodies of water, we decided to schedule massages on Friday due to the overwhelming threat of rain in the forecast. Of course, Friday turned out to be a gorgeous day, but our massages were definitely worth it.

Fast forward to Saturday.

After a night of singing and dancing in our private karaoke room at Kung Fu, Rachel and I decided that the best way to recover would be to mosey on down to Galveston and bathe in the sun. We donned our bathing suits, grabbed our supplies, and were on our way. We were a bit flustered as we drove down Montrose; we weren't aware of the Art Car Parade that was blocking Allen Parkway, but we got past the congestion and were happy to be travelling at rapid speeds again.

I merged onto I10 from the feeder and dodged cars across the lanes so that I could get to the exit lane for I45 south. Even on a Saturday at noon, the 45 south lane was clogged, so we were idling for a little while before something strange happened. When I tried to press on the brake pedal, I had a really hard time pressing it down and almost rolled into the car in front of me. Once we finally came to a halt, my car shut off.

SHUT OFF. Wouldn't accelerate, wouldn't start, the wheel locked...and we FREAKED OUT.

Rachel knew something was wrong when my brake pedal wasn't working, because I started getting a bit nervous, and then when the car stopped, I said, "Oh my God, Oh my God! My car turned off! What do I do??!!??"

"CALL 911!!!"

I've never called 911, but this did seem to constitute an emergency as we were sitting ducks in the middle of one of the busiest highway stretches of Houston. In case you're confused about where we were, we were on I10 eastbound, about 100 yards before the split for I45. One of the busiest stretches of highway in Houston.

I gave 911 my information and hung up. All there was to do now was wait, (and make a comment about how Rachel and I will NEVER EVER make it to the beach in this lifetime.) I stared, terrified, in my rearview mirror just waiting for an oblivious speed demon to turn us into a little, crumpled, black soda can. Luckily, two very nice men stopped traffic in the left lane, got out of their cars, and pushed us over onto the shoulder.

Once on the shoulder, one of the angels who helped us gave me the number of the closest towing company. In my frenzied state, I forgot that I had roadside assistance and called the towing company. They were 60 minutes away, so I called about three more towing companies before finding out that only certain tow trucks can tow cars from a major highway. Here comes a rant.

--

In Houston, two trucks are ALWAYS WAITING AND READY to tow cars out of parking lots. I just thought they were stationed at every other intersection waiting to pounce on the latest driver's indiscretion. Because of my experiences and the experiences of my friends with tow trucks, I just assumed that a few of them would be racing each other for the opportunity to sink their chains into my car. The ONE TIME I actually needed a tow truck, I couldn't get one.

--

Rachel and I waited for an hour. We were told that the highways had surveillance cameras and would dispatch a truck to us soon, but it never came. Wanna know who else never came? THE POLICE. They never came by to check on us, even after we called. One of them drove by, and as he passed we read, "To Protect and Serve" on his rear end. Shyeah. Right.

So I'm on the phone with my mom, about to die of heat exhaustion, when I decide to try and start the car again. It started! There was no Check Engine light on or anything, and I had taken my car in about a month ago to get work done, so I knew it was up to date on most everything. Since my dad was mowing the lawn and didn't hear his phone ring, I called Pilar's dad to get his opinion on whether or not I should drive home. He felt like my car had probably just gotten water vapor in something or other (it had rained profusely the night before) and the car had shut off as a safety feature. Gee thanks, Mazda. If they have the technology to incorporate a safety feature like that, couldn't they just program a lady's voice to say, "Pull your car over now or you will die"? A car turning off mid-highway is a pretty laughable "safety feature", but I guess that's better than the possible alternative of a fiery explosion or something of the like.

Anyway, after getting the go-ahead from Mr. McKay, Rachel and I just drove on home. That's the part that makes us laugh the most.

So how did it end?

I just turned my car on and we drove home.

Classic.

I hope I was able to convey just how horrific this event was. It's a little funny in hindsight...but still terrifying.

Things 5th Grade Boys Say: Part I

Well, as promised, I am going to attempt to record some of the "things 5th grade boys say" for your reading pleasure. Please take note that I have found these things funny because I saw them firsthand, and witnessed some necessary facial expressions/tones of voice that were, perhaps, what made the situation so funny. That being said, I will try to set the scenes very clearly by leaving no detail behind.

**All names have been changed to protect the privacy of my little knucklehead boys

The Vomiter
So I'm standing in the front of the room in the middle of a math lesson, when one of the boys gets up and starts walking to the door. He walks right in front of me and I say, "Reagan, what are you doing? You can't just walk out of the room during the lesson!"

He stops, casually removes his hand from his mouth and says with a lisp and his mouth half full, "I vomited."
Most of the hilarity was in how casual he was about the whole thing...and that he said vomited.

The Breakdancer
When the boys have more than one test during a morning block or they've just been working really hard on something, I reward them with a "brain break", which is basically a 5-10 minute dance party. I'll play anything from Deadmau5 to Skrillex to the Beach Boys to Footloose...just depends on the mood. I've seen a lot of funny dance moves, but the best was when I looked over to find my most squirrelly boy break dancing in the middle of the room. I'm talking spinning on his head and everything. The next time I looked over, one of the boys was holding him up by his ankles. Of course I put a stop to it, but I was dying.

The Neckties
On Monday through Thursday, the boys wear navy polo shirts and khaki slacks or shorts as their uniform. On Fridays, they wear light blue button-down shirts with a navy blue necktie and khakis. Early on in the year, when they actually remembered to wear their Friday uniforms, they would always set a funny scene in chapel. (For those who don't know, St. Thomas has a 30 minute chapel service every day that the entire school goes to. It's pretty old school, and I love it, but the boys get pretty bored most of the time.) The ties become a pretty good source of entertainment. One time in particular, I was standing at the end of a pew and looked down the pew to find that all of the boys had their ties in different positions: one had tied his into a bow, another had wound his into a flower shape, while another had wrapped his around his neck, and the last one was chewing on his. Oh, and one of them had tucked his ears inside themselves. They all turned and looked up at me in unison like little puppy dogs. I lost it.

Mnemonic Devices
One day, post recess, we made our obligatory bathroom and water breaks after coming in from the playground. Two of the boys had been in the bathroom for a while, so I asked another boy to go check and see if they were being silly or if they were taking care of business. He came back and announced, "They're pooping." Upon hearing this, one of the other boys piped up and said, "Yeah, when I was in there, they were just sitting on the toilet discussing mnemonic devices."

Seriously, you can't make this stuff up.

Monster Dump
Along that same subject...I mean, I could write volumes about poop and fart stories....there was another funny bathroom incident. I always let them go to the bathroom right after recess. For those not used to children, a lot of them have to poop about 45 minutes after eating a meal. I didn't make that up, my student teaching adviser told me that, and she was so right. Some of them are like clockwork. Anyway, they were all using the bathroom after recess, and they kept coming in and whispering about something. When I listened closely, I heard things like, "I tried flushing three times!" and "I've never seen one that big!". My fears were confirmed when one of the more obnoxious boys came in and said, "Who did that, and what did you eat??????" Apparently, someone had done some damage, and the damage would not flush. I may be considered a grown up, but poop still makes me laugh, and I laughed. Very hard.



I'm thinking of more and more funny things as I type, which leads me to think that I should write these in parts. Hold on to your pants because I WILL keep up with this and entertain you with more disgusting and entertaining 5th grade boy-isms.

Over and Underneath

 

Just read through that last post...from August! My, my, somehow I knew I wouldn't be blogging a lot this year. I have promised myself and some others that I will dedicate a blog specifically to "funny things said by 5th grade boys", and this WILL happen (but not now). Soon, I promise. And soon probably means this summer, so don't hold your breath.

There are important things at hand, and I feel as though I might burst if I don't express them in writing. It's always so satisfying to see my thoughts in print...well...if I have time to make them sound eloquent. So here they are.

God is awesome. I know this, always have, and hopefully you do, too, but I know it right now. I feel, taste, desire, am consumed by him so much to the point of tears sometimes. I feel the way Frank Laubach must have felt when he wrote, "God was so close and so amazingly lovely that I felt like melting all over with a strange blissful contentment."

He is so close.

So I'm recognizing things about myself, like: I've been here before. I've been in this beautiful state of consolation more than once, where God is so close that I feel him with me all of the time. I've also been in states of desolation where I can't really feel God, or I do things to distance myself from him, and he seems far off and ....disposable. I never, ever want to go back to that place. I have a firm resolve, and I want to keep it, so here is what I do:

1. Learn from my experiences

I am cyclical. I tend to fall back into old habits that drag me back down into places I don't want to be, but for some reason, he always pulls me back up. He always, ALWAYS, takes me back, and he always will. Seventy times seventy-seven times he will take me back, and I don't deserve it, but he does it anyway, because he's my dad.

Because I am cyclical, it's easy to pinpoint what pulls me away from him. I pray that this time I can remember that, and live my life the way I know is best for me. He's given me the gift of clarity, and he's used people to teach these things to me. I'm so grateful for every person in my life...even those who have caused a bit of pain because they are bringing me closer to him. I don't have regrets, and I don't believe in mistakes...just things and people that you learn from.

2. Remember this:


"He is before all things, and in him all things hold together." -Colossians 1:17

This is a commonly said verse that has a lot of meaning for me. I used this verse to perform an illustration for a talk I gave on Aggie Awakening. I talked about a thing called laminin. The laminins are a group of glycoproteins that are essential for the maintenance and survival of all cells, among many other things. Laminin literally holds everything....all things...together. This is what laminin looks like:

Yeah. Mind blown. Seeing things like this reminds me that he is real, and he is here. I want God to be before everything in my life. I want him to make my decisions. I want to be able to sing the song verse, "Everything I am for your kingdom's cause" and mean it. I don't want to be a hypocrite, or try to fool myself into believing that I can have a relationship with God and just throw my secrets and sins in a closet of denial while I pretend that I'm following his will. I've done this too many times, and I think I'm old enough to realize that it doesn't work. It's all or nothing with him, and I'm giving him my all because that's what Jesus did for me.

3. Trust him

This one's simple...trust that he has my best interests at heart. That he knows my heart well enough to know (better than I do) what will satisfy it. "Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4

He has made it very easy for me to trust him lately. It seems that when I get the least bit down, or sad, he'll send me some kind of message that says, "I'm here, I love you, and you're doing the right thing." Last night, I was at a St. Patty's Day party in Minnesota with my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew, and some of their friends. I was having a great time, but then I started to get a bit homesick for my friends who I figured were all together for St. Patty's. As soon as I started feeling this, one of my favorite songs came on randomly. The funny thing was, the song is a Christian song - "Times" by Tenth Ave North - but none of the other songs playing from that ipod were Christian songs. It was like a message directly from God that said, "I'm always here with you....don't ever feel lonely." I had this feeling both on the flights to and from Minnesota. It can be a little lonely flying alone (especially if it's your first time!), but every song that came on my ipod..."By Your Side" by Tenth Ave North, "Fall Apart" by Josh Wilson, "In Better Hands" by Natalie Grant....all of these songs gave me comfort and I found myself near tears with the peace that passes all understanding.



There are plenty of other things for me to do, remember, think, not think, etc....but these are the ones I think cover everything. I don't want it to sound like I'm bragging about where I am in my relationship with God, but I pray that this could inspire others to desire this kind of fulfillment because I'll tell you...he is the only thing that will fulfill you.


Times - Tenth Avenue North