When September Ends

I said I wasn't going to be sad - and I'm not, really. Maybe it's because, at this point, I'm more fatigued than dismal that this life changing experience is coming to an end. At least, it was life changing for me. That could be because of when this season has happened, relatively early in my life and (relatively) early in my teaching career. I feel as though I have aged 10 years - not only in experiences, but in the physical toll that traveling alone, nonstop for a year has on your body. Never underestimate how difficult it is to drive, often in inclement weather, listening carefully to your GPS and trusting it to not take you over-the-river-and-through the-woods, stay alert for hours on end, with one eye on the road and another on the clock, hoping you'll get where ever you're going in time - or before dark. My back and stomach both feel like they have been crunched tightly in a fist since January.

This is what my odometer read at the beginning of August.

I'm not going to be sad. It was everything it was meant to be for me, and it's time to move on. My mental and physical capacity for having two full time jobs has reached its limit. After a year, it's time for a release of having somewhere to be, something to say, or someone to write for - at least on a tightly scheduled basis.

My lone speaking engagement this month was addressing the West Virginia Association of Retired School Employees at their annual meeting in Braxton County. It was also my last speaking engagement as the current teacher of the year until October 8th, when I address the state school board and give my farewell speech (is it really a farewell speech? Maybe reflection speech would be a better name for it). Regardless, I enjoyed speaking to those who have given a lifetime of service to education in West Virginia and have the opportunity to now advocate for our teachers and students from another perspective.

Nicolas County WVARSE members

One of the last one room school teachers from Tucker County.

That's not to say I wasn't busy. I have made four trips to Charleston since this school year began. Some were for selecting the next teacher of the year, others were for committees that I have been appointed to as a result of my title. Which is why, I guess October 8th really isn't as much a farewell as it is a "reboot." That's also what I have spent much of this past month pondering, in between lesson plans, calling substitutes, and grading papers - what happens next?

Marshall University Graduate School in Charleston

I've also started working on one thing I plan to pursue after October 8th. I am writing and illustrating a children's book about my year, with the main character none other than your favorite West Virginia state symbol. This is uncharted territory for me, but I figure Berkeley's blog is a good start for a story line - and I certainly have the pictures to inspire my illustrations. I have been doing a lot of research on how to get started with a children't book (among other things) - just wondering at this point if I can tell Berkeley's adventures in just 32 pages.

Those post-it notes are the beginning of Berkeley's book.

I also received this in the mail last week. It brought back all the excitement of that day, which was a much needed pick-me-up in the midst of mounting stress.

With President Obama in the Blue Room of the White House, May 1, 2014

Cecelia Mason's article on my year also was published  in Shepherd University's Alumni magazine. You can read the story at this link. What is it like to go to your mailbox and, in the midst of advertisements and bills, see yourself staring back at you? At this point, it's just another day in the life...

Thank you, Cecelia, for another beautiful article about my year.

This upcoming week, I am traveling to Princeton, New Jersey, for the final convening of our 2014 class of state teachers of the year. I'm looking forward to it (after I write yet another set of substitute lesson plans), not only to see the teachers that understand what this year has been all about, but because I need some direction as to what to do next.

The time out of the classroom is stretching me thin - remember I write this blog not only to document my year, but to give insight as to what this experience is all about, not just the recognition and glory, but the wear and tear. I feel (and have felt) incredibly guilty when I have to leave my classroom in someone else's care. Once I get to my destination, I turn off the guilt and focus on what I need to say and do, because I represent every teacher in West Virginia. Then, I make the trek home, exhausted, only to get up the next morning and give what I have left to my students.

Although I've been in and out, my 5th graders already know me well.

The pressure is immense. So is the reward.

Which is why, here at the very end as the season changes to fall, coming full circle from last year, it's difficult to not be just a little sad.

Rewind Wednesday, Part 2: Last August 2nd

Okay, fast forward. Went through security and up the stairs.

It was really quiet except for my heart pounding so heavily it had to be audible. I was 15 minutes early. Good. Some time to sit peacefully and get a hold of myself. I sat down and looked into the deep, dark depths of my purse for a mirror to assess my crazy hair day situation.

It wasn't three minutes later I heard "Oh, good, she's already here."

I never found the mirror. Instead I found myself trying to listen carefully to what was being said to me over my heartbeat pulsating in my ears. I stood back up, and I don't know why it didn't bother me earlier that morning, but all the fluid and bruising in my achy-breaky legs just went woosh down to my toes. My legs felt like water balloons as I went through the door with a big smile on my face and my hand outstretched.

They all seemed so tall. And I seemed really young and short.

Meet the Press. Sit up. Smile. Look at them! Don't act like you usually do.  The enormity of it all overwhelmed me. How on Earth had I ended up here? Listen to the questions. I felt like the walls were closing in, inch by inch.

It didn't take long, and then I cracked. Between going through my don't list over and over and debating whether to not to wear my glasses after all (they ended up on the floor after I knocked them off the table), I cracked. I was not going to maintain my composure. In an instant, I was sure that I had ruined everything I had convinced myself wasn't even possible.

Well, what do you do when your in a situation like that? It wasn't like I could get up and leave. So, the only split second option I had was to just be myself. After all, how many people would ever make it as far as that little room? Time to just let it go and forget all the things on the don't list.

I was too emotional. Too silly. And dramatic. Meet the Press had effectively become Oprah's couch. I was just Erin, 5th grade teacher, not pulled together teacher-leader. I'll never see them again, I thought. What difference does it make? I'll just be me, there's nothing to lose now.

My leg really hurt.

And that's how it went for thirty-or-so minutes. I didn't just wear my heart on my sleeve; I added glitter to make it stand out.

Then it was time to give my speech. Now, people dear to me had invested their time in listening to me speak, encouraging me to be confident. In my mind I had now disappointed them more than humanly possible. I owed them all to give it my best on that speech, even if I had blown it. And so I did. I spoke from my heart, where every word had come from, because that's what every person I represented deserved.

It's a little strange giving a big speech to a small group of people. Or maybe I took the assignment completely out of context.

No sooner than it began I was out the door. Embarrassed. Ashamed of myself. I filled out paperwork and quickly was escorted to the main entrance and into the sunshine.

I called Brad. He was already there in the parking lot. I could see him. But I wasn't moving.

"Do you see me? Just walk this way."

I still wasn't moving.

He ended up getting out of the car. Again. All I could muster after spilling my heart out for 45 minutes was a barely audible "It's over."

And then I got in the car.

"I can't believe it! I did everything I shouldn't have done! It was horrible. It's over. It was never going to happen anyway. That's it. That's it?! Why did I say that? It's over. I'm so embarrassed. It is so over."

I said that all the way home. Over and over. For about 4 and-a-half hours. It's a wonder that he didn't make me get out and walk home. Stopping the car first would have been a plus.

***
A month later, I was in the throws of a new school year. I had effectively blocked any thought of my interview or speech unless asked, then I had my "It just wasn't meant to be" line all ready to go. I got a letter in the mail congratulating me and advising to have some remarks prepared in case I was the teacher of the year.

I almost threw it away. Then I thought better and just tossed it in a pile of random papers on my desk.

Two days later, I was chilling on the couch after school. Great day, but a long, tiring one. It was going to be a good year. I whipped out my phone and engrossed myself in a round of Angry Birds.

I was so intent on using the white "egg" bird that NEVER drops the egg in the right spot I didn't hear Brad come in the room.

"Did you get a letter?"

"About what?"

"Don't you need to write a speech?"

I made a face. Nosey. "I don't need to write any more speeches. It's over. There's no way. Don't look at my mail." I went back to bombing the ugly green piggies on Angry Birds.

"I think you better write a speech."

"I love you too, but I know when it's not going to be me. Stop bothering me and don't look at my mail."

"I think you need to get ready for October 9th."

Mr. Persistent. Humph. There's no way. It's over.

And then, I got a feeling. The feeling you get when someone is possibly hiding something from you. When you're the last to know. What if...

I let the black bomb bird disintegrate into the virtual sky and went to go dig up that letter.

***

Well, we all know how this story ended. You just never knew how it started.

I'm asked a lot about what makes me the teacher of the year. Eleven months in and I still don't have the answer people are looking for.

It's not about being all pulled together. Or having all the right answers. Or how many committees or student teachers you've served.

As I said in part one, we aren't always kind to ourselves in this profession. So much is expected, and we often feel we come up short. We not only want to feel empowered, but know that others see our potential, too.

We're all looking for someone just like us.

I'm proof that broken, flawed people with purpose and determination can be leaders, speakers, and amazingly enough, role models. Sometimes your purpose is revealed to you in ways you would never anticipate.

Be different. Be the difference.

But most importantly, be yourself.

Rewind Wednesday, Part 1: Last August 2nd

I haven't done a Rewind Wednesday for a while. I'm giving myself an hour to type this, then I have to get some rest before I spend the day at school tomorrow and then drive four and-a-half hours.

But what I have to say is important - to someone, hopefully. If not, it's just an important reflection to me about how this journey began.

***

I didn't even hear my cell phone ring. I was asleep, in the kitchen, with my forehead resting on the island. I had come home from Germany three days earlier and was still incredibly jet lagged. A few minutes later I drowsily checked my voicemail, not even lifting my head up. I think I dreamed a phone was ringing.

When I heard the message, I went from half asleep to almost falling off the kitchen stool.

I was being contacted to schedule an interview for the 2014 West Virginia Teacher of the Year. I scribbled down a call back number and a date on a piece of paper clinging to the refrigerator, and cleared my throat. Then I started pacing. I paced as I called to schedule my interview. I paced the house as I sent texts to what I hope were people in my contact list but maybe some random people that accidentally got added (but sent nice texts back anyway). I paced the house for probably an hour and-a-half, until my leg started aching.

I tripped getting on a train in Frankfurt two weeks earlier. In an instant I was between the stairs of a train and the train platform. While the teachers who were with me lifted me up and got me onto the train safely, I badly bruised and busted my right leg so much that within 24 hours I was in Heidelberg University Hospital emergency room because I could no longer put weight on it. I managed to make it through the remainder of the trip with a wrap and some mega-antibiotics, but still wasn't the most graceful creature on two legs (I'm still not).

In one week I was going to have an interview to represent the education profession in West Virginia, and I could barely walk - or recount what time zone I was in.

While my friends and colleagues sent their good vibes, I felt less and less confident each day as I wrapped my head around it all. I knew it was possible - but I didn't think it would really happen. This has gotten out of hand, I thought to myself. This is too big, too much for me. I'm a terrible speaker. I do weird, blinky things with my eyes when I talk. My eye contact is horrendous. I'm too silly and emotional (the side effects of being in the fifth grade for so long). I look like a fifth grader. 

(Keep in mind, through a lot of practice and YouTube videos on public speaking, I have conquered my public speaking quirks. I'm not as bad as I thought I was, but at this moment in my life I felt incredibly insufficient.)
 
I read something recently, how we shouldn't treat ourselves any worse than we would our best friend. As teachers, often we are our worst critics. It's safe to say at this point last late July I wasn't being a very good friend to myself. If it's possible to bully yourself, I was doing it.

I went through the next week pacing the house (in between elevating my leg), Googling everything about any and all education issues in existence (and making note cards - I don't know why, but for some reason, I went on an index card kick for six days, and I never use index cards). I wrote a speech. I practiced my speech. I timed my speech. I made other people listen to my speech. Other people, namely the administrators at the Berkeley County Leadership Academy, listened to my speech to give me an audience. They didn't have to do that, but they did. The support and confidence I received from my Berkeley County school family was uplifting beyond anything I could possibly deserve. I reviewed my "don't" list:

Don't cross your legs over and over. Don't cry, even if you're nervous. Don't take your glasses on and off. Don't freak out and make a fool of yourself and Berkeley County. Don't be silly. Pretend it's "Meet the Press." Act like the accomplished teacher you are instead of a scared kid on the first day of school.

I was so nervous my husband drove me to Charleston, taking a day and-a-half from work, because I would have driven off the road at that point - or turned around and gone home. I shuffled my index card collection and listened to myself say my speech on my phone (I recorded it over and over, because I wanted to make sure I enunciated everything correctly) the entire four and-a-half hour drive. You can only imagine what great company I was to have in that car.

Eventually, I went to sleep that night. I think I wore myself out with my antics. The next morning when I woke up, my eyes were itchy and swollen - probably from lack of sleep and the detergent in the hotel blankets. I was having a crazy hair day that no flat iron could tame (thank you summer humidity). And I didn't like my outfit. It was black. A black suit. My mother said it looked nice and professional. I read that you should wear dark, solid colors to an interview. Only problem was that I didn't own any dark, solid colors - but I do have a lot of pink, red, and purple. So I found a suit, a nice, black suit, to wear for my interview - on a 90 degree day in August. I was going to roast in that nice, black suit - and pantyhose. Who in their right mind invented pantyhose?

I got dressed and ate part of a muffin that Brad brought up for me to eat. Somehow I got out of that room and into the car. Brad drove me to the Capitol Complex. I knew I had to go in Building 7 - where's Building 7? A very polite officer showed me from the car where to go.

Brad pointed and said, "See, it's right there. I'm going to let you out here so I don't have to feed a meter."

"Walk me to the door."

"It's right there. I have on my running shorts (which, side note, are hideously short). You'll be great."

I get out of the car and stand. The door is hanging open, but I knew if closed it he'd be off.

"Walk me to the door."

So Brad, in his runner garb, parked the car, fed the meter, and walked me, in my black suit and Payless heels (that I now have in every color because they are the only heels I can walk in), escorted me to Building 7. It was like crossing the Sahara Desert.

I got to the door. I had to open the door to go through security. This was really going to happen. I felt like all of my surroundings were melting away.

I stood there at the door. I've been to some large cities with skyscrapers, but in that moment that was the tallest, most foreboding structure I'd ever seen in my life. Suddenly, I realized Brad was gone. I head "Good luck," but he was high tailing it across the parking lot before I could respond (smooth move in hindsight).

I had no choice but to go inside, because I wasn't going to stand outside in my hot, black suit for an hour. I felt like I was about to enter an unknown world - and I was, just not in a way that I ever could imagine it.

I'm going to have to finish this story sometime tomorrow. It won't be Wednesday, but it will be worth it.

Education Commission of the States National Forum: Great Minds...and Changing Times

On the road again.

After a week of recouping, I'm back on the travel circuit. From now (actually from last week) until the first week teachers return to school, I am away from home at least one night every week. Now, I like to travel, make no mistake. And this year, I have discovered how much I enjoy meeting new people, all who have taught me something deeper about either education or life. There's something gnawing at me, besides the mosquitoes staking their claim in my backyard. Although October seems a year away, summer signals the wind down to this incredible, life defining season. What do you do with all of the experiences, skills, and information acquired? Maybe more importantly, when am I ever going to have time to process it all, because any time that I have had to myself this summer has been taking care of myself or cleaning my house. 

I'm having a hard time getting into the spirit of the season, as I view Facebook pictures of friend's families on vacation or at the pool. I'm uncertain of what the future holds, and I've been thinking about it a lot. It's clouding over the sunlight streaming through the windows as I sift through the mountains of papers on my desk with one hand and type this with the other. When this all began, I figured it would be a lot of attention for a year, then things would just go back to the way they were. I thought that long before I had a single experience or encounter with the people that have changed my life. I said this experience would not change me, and it did without my consent. 

I hate to open up a blog post with heavy thoughts, but I had no idea what it meant to be teacher of the year, or what would happen during my tenure. Believe me, I "Googled" it all the way home from Charleston last October. Hopefully by sharing my own highs and lows of this journey, it helps someone else - or maybe this is just one of those things you have to experience to fully understand. Either way, this is my record of what I experienced - and how I felt. 

Back to the travels. Last week I was in Washington, D.C. again for the Education Commission of the States (ECS) National Forum on Education Policy. Farmers Insurance sponsors the current class of state teachers of the year to attend this event and learn more about education policy on the national level. While not your typical conference where you leave with ideas for your classroom or school, it did provide us with an opportunity to meet with those who shape education from the outside. It was also great to meet up with one another again - the first of several opportunities this year's group of STOYs will have in the coming months to connect before we go our separate ways. 

2014 STOYs in attendance at this year's ECS National Forum

With Jane Schmidt, Iowa TOY, and Darlene Sutton, South Carolina TOY

I made the big screen for Tuesday's session :-)

Brandon Busteed, Executive Director of Gallup Education, opened up the forum with an EdTalk on the "Educonomy" and engagement in the teaching profession. It was a very powerful speech on how the current shift to focusing on test scores  and evaluations is overshadowing the need to engage learners (and teachers) in their role as learners. Students and teachers who feel positive and protected in their roles are much more likely to produce the results that we keep chasing.

Another influential voice we heard from that week was Sal Khan, founder of the Khan Academy. If you aren't familiar with the Khan Academy, it is a not-for-profit that creates videos and resources to provide, as Sal says "a free world class education anytime, anywhere." His approach and views on how education needs to transform in order to meet the needs of students in the digital age is profound, and online video is truly going to equalize our outreach in education.

Sal Khan

Flipped Classroom pioneers Johnathan Bergmann and Aaron Sams also provided insight as to how video learning prior to classroom instruction promotes quality instruction. While this is definitely the future of reaching all students, I see many issues regarding infrastructure, student access, and teacher knowledge (teachers need to know and have access to the equipment to create even the simplest online content) before it can be universally effective.   

Aaron Sams and Johnathan Bergman 

Flipped Classroom Web

Pre-kindergarten education was also addressed at the forum. As part of a panel made up of James Barnett, Jr. (Rear Admiral, United State Navy), David Brown (Dallas Police Chief), and John Pepper (former CEO of Proctor and Gamble), the importance was discussed of giving students of all backgrounds and economic status the ability to secure needed skills - particularly social and emotional - before entering the traditional classroom. 

On the other end of the learning spectrum, higher education and teacher preparatory programs were discussed regarding accountability and affordability. While there is a emphasis to push our students to college and career readiness, there needs to be the proper supports in place for students who are prepared for higher education to have the ability to complete a degree that will prepare them for their chosen field.  

Janet Napolitano (President, University of California), William
Kirwin (Chancellor, University of Maryland), and Jim Geringer
(Former Governor of Wyoming and Co-founder of Western
Governors University)

There were also several breakout sessions on teacher leadership, school finance, kindergarten requirements, civic education, and so many other educational issues in the political realm. It was a lot of information to take in within three days. While I agree that education policy is where the decisions are made for our classrooms...by those who are rarely inside of a classroom, I felt out of place the entire time I was there.

 I don't know what life will be like a year from now (just thinking about how much has changed since last year is mind blowing enough), but I don't think the policy table is where I will be headed. I'm a maker, a creator. That's where my heart is, and where I found the joy that brought me to this point in my life. That is why I feel a void in my life right now  - I miss the interaction, the creation that goes on in the classroom. Policies change. Programs change. Kids, however, are the constant, and what they need to be successful depends on people who care - not for the glory or the prestige of a position, but because it brings joy to the learner and teacher. The more things change...the more they really do stay the same. 

 

Raleigh County: School Visits, Teacher of the Year Reception, and Exhibition Coal Mine

I'm melting.

Maybe melted would be more correct at this point. When I started to write this post last week, I was melting. Summertime has finally squeezed its way into our lives bringing heat, sunshine, and green, green grass. The crazy winter of 2014, which had me dodging snowstorms faster than a speeding snowflake, has officially evaporated, with hopefully no return in sight. Along with the promise of warm weather and good times is the avalanche of paperwork, clean up, and refereeing that follows at the end of the year in a teacher's classroom. I felt myself slowly disintegrating with every bead of sweat that formed as I strategized how to pack my classroom for summer cleaning - and my overnight bag.

Another trip. Two weeks of routine had spoiled me. I dreaded the thought of loading and unloading my car, navigating unfamiliar roads (it's all good until it's time to get off the interstate), and spending a sleepless night in a sterile (looking) hotel room. It's easier to be home. There's less guilt about being away from family and colleagues. Everyone seems to be more at ease and happier when I'm safely off the highway.

This journey can feel very isolating, because I have been on my own for much of it - with the exception of the State of the State address, Scottsdale, and the evening gala and White House ceremony. As lonely as it is, I've look forward to the people I will meet and what quasi-crisis I'm going to have to work out by myself. I'm melting, in the sense that who I thought I was is dripping away. Easy isn't what we need to help us grow. So once I was in the car and on my way to Beckley, I was fine.

My first stop in Raleigh County, in the southern region of West Virginia, was Maxwell Elementary to speak to second graders - and share Berkeley's travels. Reporters from television station WOAY came to interview me about my visit to Raleigh County, much to the delight of the first classroom I visited ("Are we gonna be on TV? ARE WE GONNA BE ON TV?!?!"). Unfortunately, I can't find a link to the interview online, but I'm sure some very excited second graders tuned in to channel 5 at 6 pm that evening to watch. One of the second graders was so excited he had his teacher take a picture of me with him (and Berkeley) and had her text it to his mother. They were happy to hear Berkeley would be telling all the students in West Virginia about his trip to Beckley on his blog, as were the Kindergartners in Mrs. Meadows' classroom at Bradley Elementary during my second school visit.

Maxwell Hill Elementary

Ms. Chapman's class - they loved Berkeley's bookmarks!

Bradley Elementary

What a beautiful mural and school!

Later that evening I attended and spoke at the Raleigh County Teacher of the Year banquet. It was a beautifully organized event, where one teacher from each of the 29 schools is recognized for their dedication and excellence. I think that is remarkable. There are countless teachers in every school that deserve recognition, and it was one of the most special events of my year to be there and speak to the teachers that I represent. Congratulations to Michelle Durham, a Pre-Kindergarten teacher at Shady Spring Elementary, for being named the 2014-15 Raleigh County Teacher of the Year. Thank you to Dave Traube, the public relations director for Raleigh County Schools, for asking me to speak and coordinating such a nice event to honor teachers.

Raleigh County Teacher of the Year finalists

With Michelle Durham,
2014-15 Raleigh County Teacher of the Year

The next morning, it was time to travel home. This was a short trip (or a short long trip rather, since Beckley is a little over 4 hours away from Martinsburg). Before I left, I stopped by the Beckley Exhibition Coal Mine. The coal industry is not prevalent in the Eastern Panhandle; most of the students and families that come to live here from out of the area have no idea regions of West Virginia depend on coal for their economy (and that the end of the coal industry in many areas has lead to their economic collapse). I felt it was important for me, as someone who represents teachers and families in West Virginia, to learn about the history of an industry that supports the lives of many of the students in my state. The Children's Youth Museum and Mountain Homestead are also on the grounds of the Exhibition Coal Mine, which are both excellent places for students of all ages to interact with history. Berkeley will have a more in depth look at coal mining for students later this week :-)

A coal miner's family home.
Oh...where's Berkeley :-)

Inside the Slab Fork Mine

Bolts in the ceiling of the mine to keep it from caving in on the miners

A kettle bottom (petrified wood) that would
be dangerous for miners to hit their heads on in the mine

Scrip - used in place of money to "pay" miners - and only redeemable
at the company store.

A harsh reality, along with only being paid
20 cents for every ton of coal mined

Coal town baseball team uniform

Some of the tools used to mine for coal

Superintendent's House

Town school for grades first through eighth. By the end of eight
grade, you were expected to go into the mines and work. 

Bachelor's shanty

Berkeley in the outhouse. :-D
I may be the teacher of the year, but I still
have a sense of humor.

That evening I was back home, back to almost normal, and back to melting. It's not getting any cooler, although I'm looking forward to the month of June moving at a slower pace. This school year has ended... and it went way off the lesson plan. As teachers we have to be flexible, but this year would have had Gumby (remember him?) tied in knots. I have had to shift my priorities, perspectives, and plans like changing states of matter. I thought I would end my eleventh year of teaching saying goodbye to another group of fifth graders, and preparing for another summer adventure. Never could I have anticipated the events and people that have woven themselves into my story and changed the direction of my life. Due to my issues with speaking and anxiety, I thought I was limited in what I could do successfully outside of the classroom. Where I was, and who I was, was going to have to be enough for me.

And because of this year, these people, and these events, I have completely melted.

March Madness, Part 3: The End of the Beginning

That sonic thud you heard the week before last was me coming to a screeching halt.

I crashed. Not the Prius, but physically. It happens every year, because I tend to load myself down with anything and everything I can shove into my schedule, and then I pay for it. Spring is a new, fresh start, and is more than welcome this year after the Winter with No End in Sight...and I'm hoping, after recharging and taking care of myself, that I'm geared up for the next few months. At least, I hope I'm ready for April, which is looking to have a lot of travel across the state and beyond.

I feel like it is also the end of the beginning of this journey. This role is no longer new. The shock and awe of being the teacher of the year, while still humbling, has diminished. It's who I am, kind of like an extra appendage that I just had to learn how to use properly (if that makes no sense please take into consideration that it's 11:45 at night and I've just driven 4 1/2 hours home from Charleston. I get a free pass.). I've spoken to schools, community groups, teachers, and students; I don't so much as flinch when someone asks me to stand up and say a few words.  I have found my "groove" regarding my platform and issues of interest. Best of all, I have developed a rhythm and routine to what, how, and when I prepare for travel. I can have clothes picked out, equipment charged and packed, snacks, water, and fuel in an hour. I have adapted  to and embraced this journey.

The last part of the month had me slowing down a bit, or more so me going in slower motion. I held a workshop at Shepherd University on grant writing and Web 2.0 tools (albeit for a very small audience...I'll spare my dignity and not share how few people showed up). While I didn't tape any more interviews (yet) for Be the DifferenceWV, I did finish editing and uploading all of the ones I recorded in March. I also helped present awards at the RESA 8 Regional Social Studies Fair (I had planned on judging as well, but by Saturday morning my body was screaming for a break - or at least some sleep). On Sunday, my church family, Otterbein United Methodist, recognized me during the church service and with a reception afterwards.

The super cute flyer I was so excited to give "all" my audience for my workshop...things happen :-S

Regional Social Studies Fair...A Tomahawk student is going to the state competition!

Thank you, OUMC, for my beautiful cake and reception!

Back Creek Valley Elementary Interview with Erin Butler

From church I headed to Charleston for the Arch Coal Teacher Achievement Awards. I was honored as a recipient last year and was given the opportunity to speak to this year's teachers receiving the award. The Arch Coal foundation recognizes 12 teachers in West Virginia each year for their accomplishments in the classroom. I was especially proud of the two teachers from Berkeley County receiving the award, Sonya Shockey and Candi Smith - you can watch both of their interviews for Be the DifferenceWV in Hedgesville High School's and Tuscarora Elementary's episodes.

We meet again, Clay Center...

With Sonya and Candi

Speaking to the recipients

After I spoke at the award ceremony at the Clay Center (hard to believe I was just there in October...), I went to the University of Charleston to speak to their student teachers. I was warmly received and I am extremely thankful to Dr. Lockhart for organizing this event and the following reception. I love speaking to and working with beginning teachers; if "this" was supposed to happen for any reason at all, it is because there are young people preparing for this profession that I was destined to meet. I feel like I have found a second calling working with students in this capacity.

University of Charleson

Speaking to the student teachers in Riggleman Hall

Gorgeous view of the Capitol from the school!

Photo-op with some of the student teachers and Dr. Lockhart (bottom right)

Now I am home, my heart is full, and my car is approaching the 4,000 mile mark. Maybe I didn't crash this month, after all, just skidded a little out of control. This time next month, I will be in Washington, D.C., preparing to meet the President of the United States. Mike Funkhouser, the 2013 West Virginia Teacher of the Year, just sent me a "gentle reminder" e-mail to take care of myself and enjoy the journey. He's right. You can't do everything, all the time, for everyone. I have been blessed with the opportunity to experience this state and its people through the lens of a teacher - and when it's over, I need to have the energy and the joy to share this adventure with others. Everything happens for a reason and a purpose that is yet unseen. In October, I felt like I was living someone else's life. It's almost April, and I can confirm that this crazy, rewarding, and life changing journey belongs to me, at least for the time being. This is for real, but it's not forever.