Feliz Navidad

Yesterday was my first Christmas pageant. In our school, every grade sings a song. We chose Feliz Navidad. It was really crazy coordinating the effort, attempting to inspire the students to actually sing. We had them make shakers out of milk cartons and practiced the words over and over in our individual classrooms. And yesterday, we decided it was time for us to practice as an entire third grade. The experience was quite memorable. But what stood out to me was not the mumbling boys or the over expressive cool kids. It was the heat, the incredibly sweltering heat.

You see, there is a problem with the heating system in our pod of the school. During winter, it is so incredibly hot in our classroom. I am told that during the summer it will be incredibly cold. I do my best to keep the kids cool, but our fan is wimpy and we are required to keep the doors closed. Yesterday, we felt the heat even more keenly as 45 third graders jammed themselves into the pod area outside our doors. We had been practicing for about forty-five minutes when something quite alarming happened. The children had just practiced the about-face they have to at the beginning of the song when I saw my sweet little A, the most willing and compliant child I have ever met, crumple to the floor. I thought he tripped and didn’t want to embarrass him so I just nonchalantly asked him if he was okay, not wanting to draw to much attention to him. However, when he bounced back up, he was staggering back and forth as if here were drunk. I thought perhaps he had rolled his ankle so I rushed over to him. I caught him just in time before he fell to the floor again. He whispered to me, “Miss Brendsel, I am a little dizzy.” I finally realized that he had fainted from the heat. Truly alarmed I immediately started to lead him to the office. However, he could not walk and so I carried him to the water fountain (in my high heels). I made him drink some water to fight the dehydration. He seemed to feel revived and could walk better as I led him to the office. On the way, his grandmother, who happens to be Crazy M’s grandmother as well, ran into us. She was obviously very concerned and they took him to the clinic. Turns out it was indeed the heat—ironic since was about thirty below zero outside that day.

I ran into my principal yesterday and asked her how he was doing—it is her great-nephew that fainted and her great-niece that I lost. She seemed upset and said that I “keep it too hot in there.” She told me that I should open the doors. I was a bit annoyed as I have tried not to complain about the obvious heating problem in the room. I am not allowed to open the doors for safety reasons and I have a fan running all day long. There is little I can do about it. When I tactfully tried to note this, she dropped the matter.

Of all the children that trouble could be befall why does it always seem to follow the relations of my principal?

The Ripple Effect

There is no doubt that crazy M was very harshly rebuked for leaving without me. When she saw me today, the first thing she told me was "My grandma told me to tell you that I am sorry that I got you fired." Nice. I try to explain to her that I was not fired, but that I had resigned. Of course, she had no idea what that meant, so I had to tell her that I quit, which isn't really true--my contract only included the fall semester. I simply chose not to renew my contract for the spring. Anyway, after I told her that I 'quit' she looked up with sad eyes and said, "Did you quit because of me?" I almost cried. I cupped her little face in my hands and assured her she is the very last reason that I would quit. It was not her fault, but mine.

This incident disturbed me today, but it was even worse after I got this letter from her cousin today--the girl who had gone to the bathroom and had told me she was worried that Crazy M had left without her. Read what she wrote to me:

"Dear Miss Brendsel,

I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry I'm so sorry that I will do anything if you forgive me I swere I will do anything. Im so sad. When my granma first toll me [you quit] I thought that you quit your hole job I was scared when I thought that I was about to faint. I'm emberessed to go to school now. I wished it never happened I wished I never went to that feild trip. your the best teacher in the world. If you quit, I would be mad at myself forever,

Love, H"

I cried my eyes out. I am still crying.

B

P.S. My aide gave my director my letter of resignation today. She was apparently very upset. She told him, "Did you hear that she lost a student?!" Who hasn't?

More Odds and Ends

So apparently I am not the worst teacher in history, as I thought after losing little M. I spoke with my principal, little's Ms great aunt, who told me that little's M's grandmother was not angry with me, but with little M. In fact, my principal said that it wasn't a big deal and that I should "chalk it up to experience." To say that I am relieved is the understatement of the year. I still know that she was my responsibility and that the fault remains with me, but I am now extending grace to myself as others have to me.

Now that I am in a lighter mood, I wanted to share with you a funny store about Crazy M's antics. We were riding back from Rapid and I was laying down on the seat, my eyes closed, wishing the day was over. I felt M touching me, but as to not encourage her, I said nothing. Finally, her giggles were too much and I peeked open an eye. I saw M with a giant smile on her face, gesturing towards my legs. I discovered that she had literally covered my body with stickers she had gotten from her Happy Meal. There were stickers on my jeans, my shoes, my ankles, my ears, etc. I actually found a sticker I missed in my hair just this morning. She was so proud of herself. What a crazy kid she is.

A Shameless Plus for LG Phones

So life goes on, I have learned. I slept in until 12:00 on Sunday and found out that I had still lost Maria on Saturday. At that point, I decided to get up and de-molt as it was time to stop feeling sorry for myself. My apartment lets air in like a sieve, so there was literally snow inside of my house. Plus, my apartment was so cold, the snow didn't melt. Nice. I therefore decided to spend yet another day in the classroom.

I worked/pretended to work in my classroom for a few hours. I was grading our second big unit test. Most of the third grade did really well. However, four kids did fail, earning grades below 50%. This was more than a little distressing for me. I could have hand-picked those kids who were doing poorly, a fact which reflects on my inability to teach them.

After working a few hours in my classroom, I decided to visit my country friends who were staying across the street in church housing. I love their family and it felt so good to just love on their children and talk with J. It was lovely. Needless to say, I was very hesitant to leave and re-enter the elements.

Speaking of the elements, I don't think I have given you the 411 on the weather here. Currently, it is hovering around 40 below when you factor in wind chill. Now I know some people think that it is somehow cheating to factor in the wind, but I think that it is ridiculous! If the wind makes it 40 below by golly I am saying it is 40 below!

Anyway, it was bitterly cold last night and remains such today. I was therefore scampering to my car after saying my goodbyes to my friends. I pulled into the school parking lot and dashed into my school. Actually, I spent about three minutes outside trying to unlock the ridiculous lock to the school. Once I got inside I took some time to dethaw.

Shortly after arriving in my classroom, I realized that my cell phone was gone--again. Now those of you who know me understand that this is a very regular occurrence for me. However, I had a hunch that it had fallen out of my pocket somewhere between church housing and the school. I knew my phone didn't have a chance in the 40 below weather so I decided to go check my truck and the parking lot.

I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, searching for my phone, but to no avail. I finally relenquished my search, convinced that I had either left it at my friend's place or dropped it outside the housing on my way out. Either way, it could wait till morning.

Morning turned out to be a bit later than usual as school was canceled. Of course, I didn't know this so I am sitting in my classroom in my professional dress with no students to instruct. However, one good thing did come of arriving early--I found my phone!

Believe it or not, as I was sprinting towards the school this morning, I look down to see a bright silvery object glistening in the sunlight. I left a cry of exultation as I repossess my prodigal phone. Of course, I knew it wouldn't work after spending the night in 40 below weather with only a snow drift for a bed. However, I took it into the classroom and plugged it in for kicks. To my utter astonishment, it actually turned on! However, I could here nothing when I made a call, when I checked my voicemail, etc. There was this annoying little message that was fixated on my phone: "Car-kit Mode." Having no idea how to turn this mode off, I did what any 80s baby would do--I Googled it! Within seconds I found out that this is a message that usually appears as a result of water damage and in order to fix it, one must clean the port with a toothbrush. Because I was in my classroom, the best item I had for the task was a crumpled blue ticket. Well of all the miracles beyond miracles, it actually worked! My phone is healed! Yeah for LG!!!

The Worst 30 Minutes of my Life

Last night, one of the most awful events happened. Here is the official report of what transpired.

_______________________________________________________________________

Event Occurred On December 13, around 5:30
Event Documented on December 14, 2008

I had sixteen children in my care on December 13, 2008 for the after school field trip to the movies. Fifteen were 3rd graders and one was a 1st grader. The trip there went relatively smoothly. On the way back, however, it became clear that a blizzard was coming. We drove home on roads with very poor visibility and bitter cold winds. Before the children arrived at school, I gave all access to my cell phone to allow them to notify relatives on our location and predicted arrival time.

We pulled into the back school parking lot around 5:30. The children were anxious to get off the bus and be reunited with their families. However, I made all of them remain in their seats until I checked for trash around their area. I then dismissed them one by one. I did this from front to back.

My first failure was not explicitly telling students to inform me before they left. As a result, by the time I had dismissed the last student and had gotten off the bus myself, some students were already getting into their cars. At this time, three of my students told me that they really, really, really had to go to the bathroom. I knew this to be true as they had told me this much earlier in our journey home. The tutoring trailer was not open as the director couldn’t locate the teacher, who had the keys. I therefore walked these three students halfway to the school (about fifty-yards from the general crowd) and gave them my keys to get into the school to use the bathroom. I instructed them to come back quickly. At that point, the uncle of one of the girls, who went to the bathroom, drove up to fetch her. I told him that her father had called me not fifteen minutes ago asking me to take care of her for an hour until he could fetch her. He therefore called him and cleared up the matter. The little girl came out of the bathroom and I gave her to her uncle.

After she left, I put a student had been holding my hand the whole time in my truck with the heat on so she would stay warm. Her niece soon joined her, as did her sister. I was taking them all to the church at the request of their parents when all the other kids had left. Finally, the last girl to come out of the bathroom. She told me that she couldn’t find her cousin, Crazy M, and was worried they had left without her. I told her that I doubted that her family would just leave her, assuming that Crazy M would have said something if she had left her cousin. At this point, I began to worry about where M was, as I could not see her with the remaining students. I told her to wait with the girls in the truck as I looked for M. After a few minutes of asking around, it became clear to me that I had lost M. The only students remaining were the four in my truck. The rest had gotten into cars and left when I had walked the children those fifty yards to go the bathroom. I got really worried at this point and told the director. She was clearly alarmed and upset with me, with good reason. I asked around, the students, etc. The kids in the truck had seen her running towards the tutoring trailer, but since that had been locked, she couldn’t have been in there. After about ten minutes of searching for her, the girl's aunt arrived, looking for her, M and their other cousin. I asked M's cousin to go and see if M was in her aunt'scar. She wasn’t. At this point, I became very anxious. I asked the director if we could call the bus driver to check to see if she fell asleep on the bus. The director became very very angry with me and told me that M was my responsibility and that I needed to go over to the bus garage and pound on the door myself. I didn’t know the buses were at the bus garage, or I would have done this without asking. As I was running towards the garage, M’s aunt got out of the car with a clearly worried expression. I told her I was running to check to see if she fell asleep on the bus. I pounded on the bus garage door and one of the bus drivers allowed me to check the bus. No M. I then ran back, terrified at this point. I found that Maria’s aunt and her cousins had left. I then tried to check the school I asked one of the 3rd graders who was with us if she had seen her. She had not. I then ran back into the parking lot. Another teacher was now with the director. She told me that she had seen two girls in the store with their grandmother, one of whom she thought was M, but she didn’t know their names. I asked her if one of the little girls was wearing a pink shirt, as M had been. She said that she was. This was the first bit of good news. Until the news was confirmed, the director told me to quickly run the three girls in the truck to their parents in the church parking lot. I did so and returned within five minutes. When I came back, the other teacher was gone and the director was in her car on the phone. She rolled her window down and then told me that M had been found. She was indeed with her Grandmother the whole time.

I naturally take 100% responsibility for not knowing where my students were at all times. I love my students and no one was more distraught that I lost M than I was. With the terrible weather and her propensity to wander off, last night’s saga could have ended tragically. This is a very sobering reality that has weighed heavily no my spirit. After much thought, I have concluded that as a first year, first semester teacher with no background in education and very little familiarity with the policies of Little Wound Elementary or the community at large, I am not qualified for the position of 3rd grade tutor. I therefore will not seek to renew my contract for the spring semester.

Sincerely,

BB

The Blues, Lulu and The Blueberry

Today was a very difficult day. I think it was one of the first days of the year where I spent a large portion of the day disliking my children. They seemed surprisingly disrespectful today.

I woke up this morning exhausted and in a foul mood. I was seriously mad at God for making me get up. I was even more peeved because my foot is really, really sore today. And so, my energy level was very low today, which the kids can always sense. I really had the blues.

My negative sentiments were directed towards the children when S, my little attitude girl, was caught sucking on candy. The children know the rules and when they purposefully break them, it annoys me. However, I got really annoyed when I got her again not ten minutes later with another piece in her mouth! We soon transitioned into silent reading where they read silently for 50 minutes. Today, however, they chose not to be silent. To make matters worse, little W, the daughter of my best friend out here, was one of the people talking. I almost never have to remind her to be on task, so today was an off day for her. Because the talking continued, I had to send all three kids back to their desks. At that time, I caught M (who was late today), chewing gum. I was very annoyed because she had just seen me rebuke the girl across from her for her candy. But things got all the more tense when not five minutes later, a student comes up to me and says M is chewing gum. I made her come over to my desk and open her mouth. I saw her quickly swallow the gum before opening up. That irked me all the more. But I really got tense when I realized not five minutes later that she had started to pretend she was chewing stuff just to get a rise out of me and the other students. I took her out into the hallway and had a firm talk with her. I took away her recess and P.E. privileges and made her spit out the paper she was chewing. I think she liked playing games with my head, which frustrated me all the more.

I wasn't the only teacher stressed the day. A fellow TFA corps member was so frustrated she had someone cover for her for 5 minutes while she vented in the bathroom. Her and I moaned and complained in Spanish for awhile, but it didn't make me feel too much better.

By lunch time, I purposed in my heart that it was time to change my attitude. I made myself repeat over and over again "I love my students." Love really is a choice, not a feeling. When W came in from recess because she was wearing slippers in the snow, I watched her circle the classroom and make an effort to tidy things up. Her little gestures were just precious. Finally, I asked her to come over to me and give me a hug. I wrapped in my arms and held her their until I remembered why I love my students so much. From that moment on, the rest of the day was much better.

My heart really softened as my kids stood in line to rotate classes. One of my boys said that Lulu, one of my favorite students, had threatened to beat up another kid. Surprised, I asked if this was true. She quickly denied it. I then asked her, "Are you lying to me?" I was shocked when she threw her arms around me, buried her head in my stomach and cried, "Yes!" She clung to me and wouldn't let go, clearly remorseful. (I think the remorse was in part a result of my lecture earlier in the day about our class' problem with lying). I later found out that Lulu had made that comment only after a boy had declared he was going to beat someone in our classroom up. She saucily had replied, "I will beat you up then!" I didn't punish her.

In addition to Lulu's reminder of why I love my kids, little M was up to her hilarious ways. I noticed early on in the morning that she had a blue streak on her face. Upon closer examination I realized that there were blue marker marks all over her face and completely covering her ears. When I asked her what happened, she told me that her sister gave her beautiful earrings. I roared with laughter after this comment. With her purple coat and blue face, she truly resembled a blueberry. I tried to wipe some of the marker off, but school started. Therefore, she pranced around the entire day with blue smears all over her face. She look 100% ridiculous and I loved her all the more for it!

I have included some pictures of the infamous little M and myself on our last field trip to Rapid.

Projector Blues

Nearly every day, I marvel at home I am still alive. I am one of the most clumsy people that I know. Today, I did some very foolish that wasted learning time and endangered my students and myself.

It all started with a twelve inch by twelve inch sheet of glass that was given to me by a fellow teacher. One could write on it with dry erase markers rather than directly on overhead transparencies--it is easier to erase, you see.

Because transparency technology is really outdated, I use it only when my school's curriculum requires it. Today was one of those days. I used the projector and the glass in the morning and left it where it was sitting until it was time to rotate classes for our respective departmentalized subjects. In my hurry to move the projector in time for the incoming class, I completely forgot about the glass. As I lifted the projector into the air, the glass slid off and headed towards the ground, almost in slow motion. Out of sheer reflex, I stuck my foot out to 'break' its fall--a rather painful habit that evolved from my days of playing soccer. The very corner of the glass penetrated my skin before falling to the floor in a million pieces.

My first concern was with the broken glass. I ordered my students to stay back as I surveyed the damage. It was then that I noticed my foot. Though the gash was only about two inches wide, it was extremely deep. Blood was just gushing. Soon, my tights were saturated and my blood was literally pooling on the floor. The children looked on in horror, each asking me what they should do. Trying to clear my head, I asked one of them to ring the office and ask them to send down a janitor to clean up the blood and the glass. Then I sent one of my students to go and get a fellow teacher. She stepped into the classroom, took one look at the pool of blood and the stunned children around me and ordered everyone to their seats. Meanwhile, I thought it best to go to the office and out of the line of sight of my kids. When I arrived in the office, the school secretary had a very worried expression on her face--especially after she saw that my tights were literally saturated with blood. The school nurse was nowhere to be found so I waited in the office with my foot up as people who passed by gathered to see me bleed. Finally, the nurse arrived. She took one look at it and told me that I needed to go get stitches. And so, the school's security officer was commissioned to take me to a town an hour away for treatment. (I couldn't go to the clinic across the street because I am not Lakota). Lamenting the loss of learning time, I gave my the librarian my lesson plans and asked her to teach my class for me. As a former TFA corps member and Middle School Teacher of the year last year, I knew I could trust her. After I gave her some parting words of advice, I hobbled towards the exit.

My trip to the clinic was uneventful. However, I was a teeny-weeny bit annoyed by the fact that one of the staff workers kept commenting on how young I was to be a teacher. I told her I was nearly 23, but this didn't seem to impress her...

The doctor came to treat me soon after I arrived. It did not take long and only required two stitches (it was deep, not wide). I got a bit nauseous when he lifted up my skin with a needle in order to numb it. Other than that, I was a trooper.

The entire trip to took about three hours. I got back just in time to show my children that I was okay. Many of them looked genuinely concerned. In fact, when I stepped back into my classroom, a gaggle of girls rushed up to me and threw their arms around me. It was precious.

I ran into M, who is not in my homeroom, in the hallway. She shouted, "Miss Prenzill!! You're back! Are you okay?!" As I began to assure her that I was just fine, she cut in, "Can I borrow 50 cents?" When I shot her a look, she beamed up at me and said, "Josh!" You got to love little M.

Yours truly,

B

Meet Martha Stewart...Or Not

I think that I have sort of earned a reputation around the school as a sort of a Grinch. It is no secret that I detest the way holidays are commercialized, that the school spends a ridiculous amount of money on decorations and wastes way too much precious learning time for parties, parades and assemblies. However, in all fairness, I have had a complaining spirit of late. I really wanted to make today better..and it was my big chance.

Today was the first ever learning-circle run family craft night. At Little Wound family craft-nights are a really big deal. School administrators set up tables where really nice crafts can be made (scarves, wreathes, etc.). Dinner is also provided. As you can imagine, the combination of the two really draws in the crowds. Well, they decided to try a craft night run by the elementary school staff. Each teacher, K-5, was responsible for doing a craft in their room. Now for those of you who know me at all, you know that crafting is the antithesis of what I am good at. I hate crafts and the idea of doing a craft night was appalling. Nevertheless, the teachers around me remained gleeful, despite my melancholy.

Yesterday, we found out that the craft kits we ordered from a catalog never were actually ordered. That meant that the night before craft night we had no crafts and no supplies. One of the third grade teachers left so it was up to P and I to dig rummage through the closets of other teacher's classrooms to find Christmas supplies. In the end, we threw together a hodge-podge of stuff for tonight.

If my day only got more hectic this morning. I woke up exhausted and was expecting a delay start because of the snow. There wasn't. I dragged myself to school and tried to pretend to be excited. A few hours into the day (seemed like decades), my college professor (and high school principal) came by and told me I needed to take my grad class semester final after school. I had expected to take it tomorrow after studying. So no studying...

I survived to the end of the day (miracle). The minute the kids were on the bus, I ran over to my professor's office and grabbed the test. I ran back to my class only to find that one of the cars didn't have a driver to run some kids home. As a result, I had about eight kids in my classroom while I was trying to finish my semester final. I was typing like a maniac while trying to keep an eye on the kids. I finished with enough time to grab some food from the cafeteria and literally wolf it down as I frantically tried to prepare for craft night.

The first family arrived thirty minutes early--of course. By the time 6:30 rolled around, the room was extremely hot and overcrowded. My family friends were there--the ones I had Thanksgiving with. That made things a lot better. I think most of the families enjoyed the craft. We made flower pens. I admit that I felt so foolish modeling how to make the craft. I looked ridiculous. My family would have died from laughter.

We had a drawing for gift cards. The minute--nay, the second--I finished drawing for winners, the entire classroom emptied like the rapture had come. I was left sitting with a classroom that looked like a tornado went through it and a child who needed a ride home. I currently sitting in the eye of the storm, wishing the cleaning fairy would come and clean my room for me. Lord preserve me!

P.S. Our flower pens were cooler because we used Christmas flowers.

Let the Healing Come

In a few short weeks, I will arrive upon the one year anniversary marking my acceptance to Teach for America. At about this time last year, I was in the final stage of the interview process. I remember how nervous I was riding the train to Philadelphia by myself-my first time in the city. I remember how the cold stung my cheeks as I walked to Temple University, how clammy my hands were in the office and how ironic I thought it was that the receptionist was a Christian. All that day, the hand of God was leading me--showing me that He was with me. I remember crying during my interview, asking a veteran corps member how she dealt with the challenges, my heart already breaking for my children. I remember leaving that interview knowing that I was going to be a teacher.

Shortly after I got accepted, I decided that for the first time in my life, I was going to chronicle the journey God was taking me on. It is so easy to forget where we have come from--how faithful the Lord has been. I am so glad that I did. From this humble little blog, I believe that God has broken my heart and the hearts of His people for my babies here at Little Wound.

For some reason, I felt like God wanted me to take the time today to explain the title of my blog "Lakota Rapha: Let the Healing Coming." Names have always been very important to me (maybe because I dislike mine so much). As I mulled over many possibilities, I felt God leading me to choose the current title. In a way, it describes my purpose here. "Lakota" of course refers to the Oglala Lakota--the people I am serving here. "Rapha" is Hebrew for "heal" or "healer". I am sure many of you have heard the term Jehovah Rapha"-God the Healer. Fused, Lakota and Rapha become my prayer: the healing of the Lakota--not just any healing but the healing power of God. Government aid won't heal them, anthropologist won't heal them, medicine men won't heal them. Only the transformative power of God will redeem the Lakota people and use their beautiful culture for His glory. That is my prayer, that they may know the healing I and believers before me have come to know. This is a healing that can come from God alone.

In case you didn't know,

B

Margaritaville

Last night was a really, really long night. I went to my first TFA event in a long time. We were having a corps/staff wide celebration in Rapid at a fancy Italian restaurant. Though I am not really close with anyone of the corps, I decided to join, just to try to be social. Since no one had called offering to car pool with me, I planned on driving myself. However, while I was asleep yesterday morning, a fellow teacher and corps member here at LWS offered me a ride in. He and his fiance are always very considerate of including me. Drowsy and not-cleared headed, I agreed. I would later very much regret the choice.

The ride down was really pleasant. It was a nice change to speak with adults. We first went to Wal Mart where I was able to use the $200 given to us by the after-school program to buy a Tag Leap Frog system. I am pretty stoked about it. I also got six books to go with it (pretty pricey).


After that, things went downhill. We went over to the restaurant where I proceeded to be permanently awkward. I have never done well in large group settings--especially when I don't know/like anyone really well. It didn't help that everyone else--and I mean everyone else--either had a roommate present or a significant other. Furthermore, the fact that I have almost nothing in common with the majority of the corps, aside from our classrooms, made conversation very difficult for me. I realized that all was hopeless when the only other Christian there asked me "So, what do you do to socialize?" When I replied that my social life mainly included 8-10year olds, the school's custodian and the family of one of my students, he was speechless. I believe that my response solidified in his head his belief that I am a complete social pariah and likely a holier-than-thou type Christian. Perhaps that is why of all my teammates, he and I probably talk the least, though we have Jesus in common. It was a real bummer.

After the mortifying lunch, things got worse. I wasn't sure they could, but they did. My ride had a meeting at 5:00pm so his fiance and I waited around for nearly two hours. She wanted a hair cut so we walked around Rapid in the freezing wet cold, but to no avail. When J was finally done with his meeting, it was 7:00 and really time to go. I had planned on being back by 6:00, so I really was behind in my work schedule. As we said our goodbyes and prepared to head home, a corps member warned him to be careful of the icy roads. It planted a seed of fear in his East-coast head. After about seven minutes of driving, he decided we would spend the night. I was horrified.

I immediately proceeded to text another friend from Kyle and ask if she would take me home. She agreed, but the catch was that she was at the bar. And so, my ice-fearing friends dropped me off at the bar and the next nightmare stage of my evening began.

I have always felt uncomfortable around heavy drinking. I do not like how it makes people act. I especially do not like when people who have authority over me and whom I respect, make fools of themselves drinking. As I looked around from face to face, my ears recoiling against the sound of too-high-pitched laughter, I was deeply saddened. The room was filled with some of the most intelligent people in the nation. These individuals had attended the best colleges in our country and earned grades many would die for. They would no doubt become leaders of our nation one day. And they also were passionate about ending educational inequality. These were exceptional people. But tonight all that was forgotten. They were simply drunk young adults, making passes on one another, egging each other on and attempting to drown the pain they simply couldn't cope with. It was all too much for me.

After we finally left (my driver does not drink), my sadness only deepened as I was privy to all the gossip of the corps. I will not go into details, but I was horrified by the unprofessionalism of the corps and some of the staff. It also made me angry. Where did these people find time to have Days of Our Lives-type lives? These kids need us--all of us.

But then I remembered something my big sister once told me: "Brittany, you can't expect darkness to produce light." My younger sister added, "Be Jesus." This reminded me that I am here night only to serve and love the children in my school, but to be Jesus to my team, for it is He alone who can drive out darkness.

Please pray for my team,

B

My Cup Runneth Over

Can joy be felt? I am so joyful right now, that it is no longer just a sentiment or an emotion. It is palatable. I feel as if a stranger could almost touch my joy. Allow me to share with you some reasons why.

First, if you could just meet my babies, you would understand. I have the most wonderful children. All day long, they do things that make me love them more. Even when they do wrong, I better realize how much I love them because I know that the consequences I give are to make them better people, not just to get them to obey.

Today, two of my students did something that nearly brought me to tears. I was sitting down in a chair beside a student when she threw her arms around my neck and gave me a huge slobbery kiss, as only little girls can give. Another baby--the hilarious one that is on a kindergarten reading level, though not in my homeroom--also gave me a huge hug and a big kiss before leaving. She squeezed me real tight and I almost cried as I hugged her back. She has had a horrendous life, yet is like a bubbling brook, overflowing with life. She calls me "Miss Prenz-ill" because she can't say my name. Physically and intellectually, she is very much like a first grader. I call her Crazy M and I am extremely fond of her. In fact, as she stood on her tip-toes to give me a hug, I couldn't help but think that this is what it feels like to have a daughter. These children, they are not just my students. I honestly love them as if they were from my own flesh. And can you believe that they actually pay me for this?

God also has continued to show me amazing favor in this place. I was observed by three very important people: the Little Wound literacy coach and former Middle-School-Teach of the Year, my principal and my Teach for American program director. Thanks to our Father, I receieved really, really good reviews. They think very highly of me as a teacher, to which I just shake my head in disagreement. In terms of executing lessons, I am simply average, if that. But I am so passionately in love with my kids, that a lot of my flaws are glossed over. The children sense and embrace my affection and in turn are willing to work extremely hard. For example, yesterday my principal was to observe my class. About two minutes after she came in, a staff member told me I had to attend a special ed meeting. My principal, TM, told me to leave and said that she would watch my kids. I put T in charge and instructed the class to share their writing with Ms. Mendoza as well as what they were learning. When I came back, TM was extrememly impressed. She said that she was just in awe of my kids. In fact, when one of my students shared about what she would change in the world and ended by looking her in the eye and telling her she loved her, TM said she nearly cried. As she was leaving, I asked her when she planned on observing me as I had not been in the classroom. Pausing, she turned to me and said, "I observed your kids. It's all I needed to see." I left that day praising God for His incredible favor.

So I just wanted to thank all of you for praying. God is answering our prayers and using me for His glory.

So much love,

B