Coming Full Circle...with Courage

Okay, no fooling this time. It's December, and I have T minus three days to finish this blog.

No sooner had I driven home from New Jersey I was packing (and substitute plan writing) once again to make the trek to Charleston one more time. 365 days later, the moment had arrived to light another torch. I had been in such a state of motion (drive, speak, drive, teach, drive, write, repeat) that it wasn't really registering that this was indeed the end.

Until the hail storm. Right around the Buckhannon exit. In the dark. I had managed to drive through every type of weather over the past twelve months, every precipitation imaginable, except hail. I had even bragged the week before about how I at least avoided "that one."

Driving three miles per hour in the pitch black in a hail storm, it hit me like the swollen white pebbles bouncing off the hood of the car. This was it. If I could get through this one last storm, I had made it.

***
The next morning, I spoke at the state board meeting about my year. Before going in, I walked around the Capitol Complex one more time. What was once so imposing a year ago had become familiar territory. It's where laws are made and voices are meant to be heard - even if those on the receiving end don't like what you have to say.

I don't like to "selfie," but when I do, it's with the Capitol in the background.

I spoke about the view I had over my year, comparing it to being at the peak of Spruce Knob. That view included taking in some of the great inequalities that exist across this state. There are good things happening in education in West Virginia, but that doesn't mean there isn't work to be done. You can't expect teachers and students to keep doing more with less and less; it's a set up for failure. In an era of high stakes everything in education, those that are directly impacted by changes have the least amount of voice. Some don't get a chance to be heard; others are afraid of the consequences of speaking up. Both need a champion.

Addressing the state board

***
This is random, but I love Ollie's Bargain Warehouse in Hagerstown. No joke, it lives up to it's slogan "Good stuff...CHEAP!" About two-thirds of the store is discounted books - maybe it's not quite two-thirds, but that's the reason I frequent there. It's a fun, fast way to furnish my classroom library.

When I was there this summer, kneeling on the cement floor to pick through a bottom shelf, a thin, errant book slid down from the shelf above. It had a pale, crumpled dust jacket - and a bright orange $1.99 price sticker.

As I pulled it out to remove it from my pursuit of non-fiction, my eyes caught the title.

Courage, by Bernard Waber.

It was a simple picture book, with a few sentences on each page. Nothing fancy. It had obviously been passed over before.

I looked for one without such a grimy cover. No such luck. What am I going to do with such an "un-fifth grader" book anyway? Hmm. Character traits? Analogies? I'll think of something, as I stuck it in my cart. I peeked - thank goodness beneath that embattled dust jacket was a smooth, glossy book.

***
Three months later, I was shoving items into a bag and tears out of my eyes. I wanted it to be awesome. One last time to address the teachers of West Virginia, and here I am, ready to hit the road to go - and I don't have a speech. Nothing written down at all. Once last time to speak, and in the midst of the crazy that is the beginning of the school year, that one important task kept getting pushed to the side. Now what was I going to do?

Be different, but more importantly, be the difference. 

As I reached under the table to unplug my laptop, an odds-and-end pile of random items that hadn't made it to school yet greeted me. Courage was, once again, a part of the misfit mix.

What makes the difference?

So I snapped out of my pity party frenzy. Geesh. What had made the difference, every time, this past year? It was starting right back at me, under the table, with wrinkled eyes, waiting for me to see it.

24 hours later, Courage became a part of my speech. Click here.

With my coordinator, Monica Beane, and the 2015 WV Teacher of the Year, Gail Adams

And with that, I officially (and gratefully) attained "has been" status. A year of amazing highs, lows, and tests came to a close. It's an blessing to receive this honor, and an accomplishment to be on the other side of it. Looking back, I don't know how I did it, except...

Courage is what we give to one another.

The Countdown, Part 1: Next Steps, Grounds for Sculpture, and Chambers of Internal Dialogue

The buzzer sounds. Everything's a watercolor blur. A countdown begins as the blazing red digits flash by on the clock.

Or at least that's what it felt like as I drove to the last convening of the 2014 state teachers of the year for the Next Steps Conference, held in Princeton, New Jersey. Maybe it just reminded me of the final quarter of a basketball game because I had two speeches to write when I returned in 2 and-a-half days (and another 4+ hour drive to Charleston). And maybe...it's because this truly signaled the end - an end that, at this point, I welcomed but dreaded because of the uncertainty that lies ahead.

Once I had woven my way up into the Garden State and successfully found the conference center with no GPS snafus, I started to relax. New England is beautiful in the fall. It was comforting to be among familiar faces again who understood the insurmountable joy and crushing stress this year had bestowed. The countdown clock slowed down, at least momentarily.

Chauncey Conference Center

Inside Chauncey Conference Center, part of the ETS campus

The purpose of the Next Steps conference was to give us time to reflect on our year and to think about what we would like to have happen next - with emphasis on the what we would like. Trying to conceive of having any type of balance in life, when your schedule evolves on a whim and often for reasons that are not of a personal priority, has been futile. You get use to it and accept the chaos.

But no one can keep living like that forever. It wears you down and renders you unable to pursue the things that matter because there's no energy to spare - which is why, more than anything, it's time for the next step.

Several former National Teachers of the Year led the sessions over the following two days. They discussed returning to reality, their classrooms, and ultimately choosing the path that best allowed them to pursue the things they were passionate about - while also having a life. While saddened that this was our last official time together as a group, I think we all heard a lot of things from each other and from the presenters that reassured us that the exhaustion we felt was warranted and that we would each, in our own time, find our next path.

The outgoing National Teacher of the Year, Jeff Charbonneau, has spoken to our group several times this year, and his message was just as stellar this time as it has been in the past. Some quotes from Jeff that have continued to resonate three weeks later:

"Just because other people aren't, doesn't mean that you can't be."

"You're done climbing this mountain - [and] it's time for another. [You're] going down into a new valley."

"It's made you a better educator."

Jeff Charbonneau presenting at Next Steps. The bottom ratio is the approximate likelihood of being selected as a state teacher of the year. 

On the second evening of our conference, we visited the nearby Grounds for Sculpture, a unique sculpture park and museum. It is located on the former New Jersey State Fairgrounds. Not only is the setting stunningly beautiful, the works of art were all too lifelike - and occasionally larger than life.

Seward Johnson Center, named the artist who founded the Grounds for Sculpture in 1992.

Looks like Pi to me!

Where there are statues, there are loads of Berkeley photo-ops.

Why, yes; that is a 26 foot sculpture of Marilyn Monroe.

The table's a sculpture, but not the teachers/

Where's Berkeley?

Like I said...some of them were very true to life.

Chamber of Internal Dialogue - it looks like a little house, but...

One side depicts "The Scream"...

The other side is "Silencio"

Berkeley thought a nap sounded like a good idea at this point.

Dinner with Ohio, Maine, New Jersey, Rhode Island, and Delaware.

Although the evening was for fellowship and celebrating our accomplishments as our year came to a close, to have it in such a place was truly fitting.  Much like Seward Johnson's Chamber of Internal Dialogue, we as teachers are in contention with two variations of extreme emotion - silence of peace or (most likely) exhaustion, and the raging fury of angst, frustration, and fear of the unknown. In between those conflicting places of thought, we're handed each year...a ball of clay. A classroom. Responsibilities. The distinction and confusion of being named a leader in the profession. While we teeter between the two extremes in search of answers and balance, there's the expectation to perform and create. There are no directions, only your insight and the option to seek answers and help along the path you choose to travel - although the greatest help you'll find comes from within yourself.

I was given a ball of clay this year, to shape and mold, to squish back down when it didn't look right and start with the same blob that, in spite of being malleable, consisted of potential. What I shaped this year to be is truly the best that I could physically and mentally create. How fitting is it that, inside the Chamber of Internal Dialogue, is a small couch between the imprints of the two emotional works of art. It is that place in between that we all need to seek for rest and guidance. You can only see what you've created when you sit down and reflect.

Lotus Pond and Bridge created to resemble Claude Monet's "Bridge over a Pond of Water Lillies"

Sometimes the imprint we create is an improvement on the simpler aspects of real life, while other times our efforts reveal iconic-seeming achievement that's size and scope threaten to overwhelm. Yet it's the drive to continue creating, past the time to perfect the project you've been given, that serves as the inspiration to continue moving forward - even when you're down to just a handful of seconds on the clock.

The Class of 2014 - works of art...in progress.

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.

International Space Camp, Part 4: One Last Orbit, Graduation, and Back to Earth

I'll admit it. I was a little sad to see it end.

Space Camp was an incredible week of learning, experiences, and teacher fellowship. There is no other experience I would have liked to have closed out my summer representing education in West Virginia. Our last day in Huntsville included some free time to visit the grounds of the Rocket Park and the Davidson Center. I had made short trips to these all week, but it was nice to go back and see it all one more time. I wish I could share every picture I took with you...but here's the highlight reel.

First, let's visit the Rocket Park one more time...

I know...but you haven't seen it from this angle yet!

Centaur G-Prime designed to be carried on the
space shuttle but was nixed after the Challenger disaster

Info on the Centaur

Another view of the Saturn IV replica

Skylab replica

Where's Berkeley?

View of the lunar module, Saturn IV, and Rockets

Now let's go back in the Davidson Center...oh wait! There were some exhibits in the building where they have the shuttle and lunar simulators, better go check those out while there's still the chance!

A space shuttle tire

The capsule that held Miss Baker and Abel

Berkeley in the Manned Maneuvering Unit

Okay, this was in the gift shop, but it's a space
shuttle made out of KNEX. I love KNEX and Legos,
so I had to take a picture of it.

Later that day, we heard from another astronaut, Bob Springer, who recounted his missions on the Space Shuttle. Dan Oates also shared with us the SCIVIS program (Space Camp for Interested Visually Impaired Students). All of the components of the shuttle simulator and mission control can be modified so that blind and low vision students can participate in the same experiences as other students. There are even Braille panels that cover the inside of the orbiter simulator so they can "fly" the shuttle as well.

Bob Springer

Weightless Flights

Liquid Salt and Pepper in Space

Team Destiny with Bob Springer

By this point, we were all a little tired and sad to leave each other, but it was time for graduation. This is where we received our wings walked across the stage with our team. A special addition to our ceremony was each of the teachers receiving a 300,000 Hours Unmanned Aircraft Systems coin from the U.S. Army Redstone Arsenal as recognition for our year of service.

Dorm mates suited up for graduation

It's time to graduate...but first, let's take a selfie :-D
Photo by Ryan Devlin, Pennsylvania TOY

Being introduced

Coin and wings

Team Destiny after graduation

With a few hours of daylight left, I went back to the Davidson Center to walk the length of Saturn IV once more and look at the exhibits one last time. Some of these pictures I took earlier in the week.

An actual Quarantine Airstream used by the Apollo astronauts

Inside the Airstream

Sleeping quarters

A peek inside

A replica of the inside of Skylab

Water filtration unit (I think)

Apollo Lunar Module

Not a great picture, but this is the computer or "brain" of the Saturn IV 

Where's Berkeley?

Didn't you know astronauts wore flip-flops
in the lunar capsule? (Just kidding)

And like that, it was mission complete and back down to earth. After squeezing all our mementos and memories into our suitcases, we enjoyed each other's company the rest of the evening until it was time to get some rest and fly home the next morning. We'll reconvene one last time as a group in Princeton, New Jersey in October. Until then, it's back to work, school, and deciding how to best direct these experiences into a new mission.