Lock-Down

Two days ago, I was tossing and turning in my bed, wondering how my class should ever escape should a gunman ever arrive on campus, as our classroom is windowless. I thought about possible hiding spots, techniques to overpower the gunman, etc. Today, I was forced to recall those dreams with far more urgency.

It was a long yesterday. I arrived home at 10:40, only to realize I have forgotten to cook the six pizzas in my fridge for our pizza party the next day. Needless to say, I didn't get to bed until late into the midnight hour. Therefore, I woke up exhausted this morning. Things didn't improve when I arrived to find that my room had not been cleaned for the second day in a row. Normally this is not a problem as I usually clean it, but the mud has been so think of late there was dried dirt everywhere in our classroom. Plus, I was really frustrated to have to give my kids a worthless test from our curriculum simply because the textbook told me to.

However, things really took a turn for the worst just after I sent one of my students to the office to go home because he was real sick. As I sent him off, I heard a loud knocking on the door. My former teacher's aide is certainly not her cheerful self and practically shoves the sick student in the door. In a short voice, she whispered "We're on lock-down mode!"

For those of you who don't know what lock-down mode is, it means that there has been a threat to the safety of the students in the school and nobody is to go in or out of the classrooms. I could tell that this was not a test so I ordered my students to get in a circle against the wall of the classroom. I flipped off the lights and whispered the news to my children. I explained to them that something may be wrong and that we needed to be quiet. I tried to keep talking so as not to scare them. We sat there, huddled together for about fifteen minutes. Most of the kids were only mildly frightened as we still did not know what was going on. Suddenly, I noticed the light was still on in the classroom next door--the one that is connected to mind. So I tip-toed over and peeked into the classroom. I was shocked to find that they were all acting completely normal. I asked the teacher if she knew that we were in lock-down mode. She nodded in the affirmative but explained to me that we were supposed to remain calm and conduct everything as normal, except that no one was aloud in or out. This seemed ridiculous to me for a number of reasons, many I am sure you could imagine. However, sensing that there was no serious threat at hand, I allowed the children to read silently at their desks with one dim light on.

We waited like that for two nearly two hours. And there were some scary moments. The kids were calm as I explained that it was probably some punk kid in the high school who brought a knife to school. One of my students asked me what I would do if someone came in with a gun. I tried to made a lame joke, but I was asking myself the same question. How could I protect my children in a room with no windows but two doors and virtually no place to hide? Another girl, with very serious eyes told me that we needed to go around the circle and find out who knew karate and kung-fu. I laughed in spite of the seriousness of the situation. I wish I could be so Innocent to assume that a karate kick would stop an angry kid with a gun.

Finally, as quickly as it started, my principal came by and told me the lock-down had been lifted. I later found out that I was right--a punk kid did come to the school with a weapon. No one was hurt and from what I could gather, no one was in real danger.

I imagine I will be processing today for years to come. However, one thing I immediately took away was the frailty of human life. I always joke with my children "I will protect you." I shield them from bees, guard them from ghosts, chase away men dogs. But I realized today that this really isn't true. I can't stop their parents from beating them, the stranger from driving drunk or even a angry and bitter kid from coming to school with a gun. That, I must give to my Father.

B

Summer

So over the last few days I have started to plan what I will be doing this next summer--never a good thing. I decided it was time to start prepping for law school. That's right, I want to be a lawyer...I think. I am very intersted in studying Human Rights Law, with an International emphasis. Who knows at what point this would happen in my life--maybe the fall of 2010, maybe not. However, I am going to take the LSATs in June, so I need to get studying.

In other news, I have been trying to figure out what I will do with the rest of my summer. I have thought about going back to Uganda and teaching either street kids or former child soldiers. But I also really, really want to work in the Middle East or Central Asia. Afghanistan, Egypt and Pakistan all sound like they have potential.

Oddly enough, while doing some research, I came upon Global Expeditions website. That is the organization I went to Botswana with for 2 months when I was 16. Ironically, when I clicked the link to view their trip to Uganda, I was startled to see this picture: http://www.globalexpeditions.com/projects.php?ProjectName=Uganda

Yep, it's me. That 16 year old me in Botswana, advertising for a trip to Uganda. I thought it was weird that of all the pictures Global Expeditions have and all the places they could have put it, the stuck it on the Uganda page. Even more crazy is the fact that I found it. So weird.

If anyone has any ideas of where I should go or what I should do, please let me know.

Regards,

B

Common Sense, Or Lack There Of

Yesterday, my baby sister told me in a very non-babysister tone, that she was the one with common sense and I was the smart one. I was very much ruffled by this declaration! I think I have common sense and I certainly am not more intelligent than the average person. I got a bit defensive and declared that I had common sense. There was silence on the line for a bit, until she firmly declared "You do not." Last night, as I was tossing and turning, tormented by her remark, I remembered that big sister had also once said the same thing! Outraged, I realized that my sisters thought I was common-sense less!

This morning, I thought perhaps that I should have a blog vote--let my readers decided if I have common sense or not. But then I got to thinking of the time I locked myself out of the school and had to huddle for warmth in the box of my truck. I also remembered when I spray painted my face yellow and left my truck lights on. I tried to forget how my truck rolled away yesterday because I parked it on a hill in neutral or how I managed to unfreeze my emergency brake only to backup myself into a snow drift the next day. But thankfully I forgot how I once had to spend the night in my classroom because I lost my keys and how I drove around for two months before I realized I didn't have car insurance.

So, all of events may suggest to the untrained eye that I indeed have no common senese--or at least rotten luck. But I know better. I mean, who could endure all of those trials yet remain unscathed and still be in love with my job. Beat that sisters!

B

At Your Service

Some of my more loyal readers have requested that I do a better job of updating my blog. Though I can make no promises in terms of long-term improvement, I will make an effort.

I am currently sitting at my desk, munching on double-stuffed Oreos and drinking lukewarm reducedfat milk. I have been here since 7:15, waiting. Today is round two of parent-teacher conferences. I really can't believe that I am a teacher. I alone administered the final pen strokes, deciding a child's academic fate. I learned how heart-wrenching it is to give out F's and the absolute jubilation one feels after a struggling child has earned and A. And it was me who filled in the comment box, indicating the academic and social progress of their child. I remembered how much I treasured those words as a child, desparte for the praise of my teacher. Needless to say, I wrote with care.

Meeting with parents has been great. I have had no raging parents--something I was really afraid of. Three of my parents who had children get Ds in my Social Studies class came in--all of whom said they never saw the study guides I sent home. I got their emails and promised to email them and let them know when I was sending one out.

In other news....a prospective TFA candidate from Messiah called me and interviewed me for a paper she is writing. She also had a lot of questions about teaching the Native population. It was really, really cool to speak with someone from Messiah. Although I rarely think about Messiah now--I am far too busy--I miss it when I remember.

Well, that is all for now.

Peace

Why me?

Since I was a very, very young girl, I remember thinking to myself that there was more to life than most people realize. Long before I was a believer, I felt in my soul that people were missing something and I did not want to be one of those people.

As I grew older, I began to find glimpses of this something more--of humanity's true potential--in the books I read. I became addicted to the stories that could transport me to another world. I identified with so many of the characters, especially their failings. Some books I would read over and over with again, praying that that character's strengths would somehow leak into my soul. I saw myself as a heroine. Indeed, for a long time, I could picture my life as some dramatic quest. Ordinary challenges like tough math tests or angry teammates were transformed into cosmic battles with ferocious dragons or clever ghouls. The trials I faced in this heroic journey were numerous and deadly, but always, I was sustained by a greater power and always, victory was reached at last.

More and more, I am beginning to feel that books like the Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia and A Voice in the Wind are so moving to me because there is more than a little truth to them. I believe that there is a great battle of good and evil that is going on all around us, though most of us are so unaware. In fact, this battle is even more important than the battle for Middle Earth or for Narnia. This battle is for the very souls of humankind. There are some people are indeed rising up to wage war against the enemy, but most like the hobbits of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, would rather pretend or disbelieve the reality of the presence of this battle. And oddly enough, I feel like Frodo when he said to Gandalf
"I wish it need not have happened in my time,"
"So do I, and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that has been given us.

That is how I feel--that I am living in such dark times, where the battle around us in more intense than ever before because the enemy knows his end is near. But as this battle rages, I feel like I have been entrusted with something few have been entrusted with and I don't understand why. I think Frodo captures my cry when he said to Gandalf,

"Why did it come to me? Why was I chosen?"
"Such questions cannot be answered. You may be sure that it was not for any merit that others do not possess: not for power or wisdom, at any rate. But you have been chosen, and you must therefore use such strength and heart and wits that you have."

Oddly enough, Gandalf's remarks remind me of our Lord when declares that He chose us rather than we choosing Him and that He has chosen the foolish of the world to shame the wise and the weak to shame the strong. But unlike Frodo Baggins of the Shire, I can have the peace of knowing the end of the great battle in which I now fight.

I Should Have Chose Hawaii

What was I thinking. They have Teach for America Hawaii. I mean, those kids need a lot of love too...At least this has been my line of thinking since the big blizzard of 08 hit Kyle, South Dakota.

Now I am no wimp. I grew up in Montana and I know how ugly weather can get. But the last few days are different. It started to snow around 3:00. The flakes were huge--the size of quarters. But what is a little snow? Well, it isn't the snow that is bad--it is the wind. The wind has been blowing at about 60 mph. Visibility is around 5 feet. My power went out around midnight--which meant no heat and no stove. I woke up to the same nasty weather. I couldn't listen to the radio and find out if there was school since I had no power. I have no phone, no radio, no television and no Internet. I therefore had no idea if there was school this morning. And so, I tried to drive to the school. That would have been a great idea had my truck started. I tried to get back into my building only to find that ice had formed in the key hole of the outside door of my apartment. I was really scared to be locked out, but I eventually shoved it in there and returned to my frigid apartment.

I found out school was canceled when another teacher in the apartment knocked on my door. So, I went back to bed and slept until noon. I think got up and had canned tuna as I could not cook anything since my stove is electric. Then, I washed my dishes and went back to bed until 3:00 at which time I decided had better go to school. I put on my army combat boots, my yellow rain jacket (yes Banny, I still have it) and my babushka shawl from Uganda (do you remember that one Rebekah)? I then headed out into the storm to my truck. Sadly, my truck was stuck because of a thick layer of ice that had built up behind the truck. So, I went back to my truck and packed an overnight bag. I stuffed school clothes, a flashlight, a toothbrush and a comb into my bag, then I started off on the 1/4 journey towards the school. I was the only person alive out there. It was toasty in my yellow jacket and my boots seem to be waterproof. I made it to the school and now I am here, in my cozy classroom, preparing to spend the night. Yes, I would rather sleep in my classroom then spend the night on the floor than once again brave those elements! Yes, I should have chose Hawaii.

हीलिंग रैन

It has been a very emotional week having to deal with the combination of my uncle's death and the absolute insanity of Halloween at Little Wound.

First, I should note that I despise Halloween. My family has not celebrated it for years and I have grown to dislike it more and more. The disgusting horror films, the vandalism, the raunchy costumes--it all depresses me. So, when I found out that all of Friday was dedicated to Halloween rather than reading and writing, I was less than excited.

It should come as no surprise then that Friday was one of the longest days of my life. Yes, it was cute to see all the little kids in their costumes, but some of them were dressed in horrifying attire. Seeming my babies dressed as demons and Chucky dolls was disturbing.

They day was absolute chaos. There was a two hour costume contest followed by the candy trail. The school buys hundreds of dollars worth of candy and distributes it to the kid (and we wonder why diabetes in so high). Along the way, the kids enter different parts of the school, some of which have been transformed into "spook houses." The most infamous spook house around is located in the school bus garage. Most of my students refused to go in. A handful decided to brave the journey. It was horrible. I didn't think it was a bit scary, but my children were nearly hysterical with fear--sobbing. It's because of the trashy horror movies they watch. They have unnatural fears of chainsaws, clowns, dolls, etc. Every day items become objects of terror because of movies they watch. I decided then and there that I would never take my children into a spook house again.

By the end of the day, I was worn out. I would rather teach ten hour days than have another chaos-filled day like this last Friday. Therefore, I was in no mood at the end of the day to cater to trick-or-treaters the whole night. Thankfully, my reprieve came in the form of a very sick student of mine. She threw up on the gym floor that day somewhere between the first and second grade costume parade. She went home soon after. However, I took care of her in the evening while the six other children in her family went trick-or-treating. She only threw up on the floor once, so we had a good time. When she left, I spent the rest of the night hiding out waiting for the kids to go home. I returned to my house late that night, surviving my first Kyle Halloween.