A Passion is Born

As I begin to think about how my passion for teaching, Direct Instruction, and effective and efficient curriculum and teaching methods began, I picture Maria sitting with the Von Trapp children beginning to sing, “Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start.”

This is the story of how my passion was born.

I went to college knowing that I was going to be a teacher. I did well in all my classes, but quickly learned that most required little effort and that if I jumped through the hoops, a passive recipient of knowledge, I would pass with flying colors. As I neared the end of my junior year, my grades would have told anyone I was well on my way to becoming an effective teacher. But I wasn’t convinced. How could I be considered for a teaching position when nothing I had been “learning” in my program prepared me for the classroom? I didn’t know the first step in teaching a child to read. I didn’t know the first step in how to teach a child much of anything, nor the curriculum I should be using. I was taught that learning should be made fun and that I should want to be able to create my own curriculum because I was the “expert.” I was in no way ready for such responsibility.

I spent the summer before my senior year as a director of a summer youth program in South Korea. I loved every minute of it and realized that THIS was what my degree had been preparing me for—having a lot of fun with children and if something was learned a long the way, that was a bonus.

I returned to school in the fall, committed to finishing my degree in education, but taking additional classes that would prepare me for a career in youth and leisure services. That fall I took Dr. Berg’s, Schools in American Society class. He was unlike any professor in education I had had. His approach to teaching the class was, “If it is worth believing, it is worth questioning,” and we spent the semester unraveling everything we had been (for lack of a better word) brainwashed to believe with regards to education. He did not tell us directly, but made us come to our own conclusions through the assignments and readings.

Half way through the semester, he introduced the idea of a solid, specific, sequential curriculum. The entire class was in shock—such a common sense idea, yet none of us thought of its value before. He told us that if we were interested, we should go to the Core Knowledge website and do a little exploring. I was intrigued and visited the website later that week. I clicked on the “Core Knowledge Schools” link and realized there was a school in the town in which I was hoping to do my student teaching that used Core Knowledge. I set up a time to visit the school over Christmas break.

I went to the elementary school, excited to see Core Knowledge in action. What I saw in addition I can only explain as “guilty pleasure.” Besides the use of the Core Knowledge curriculum, the teachers were presenting in a fast-paced, teacher-directed, unison oral responding, highly engaging manner. I had no idea what it was. All I knew was that I LOVED it, even though every fiber of my training told me I shouldn’t—such a method was boring, highly ineffective, and down right wrong. I was intrigued and became instantly aware that the teacher training I had received had serious holes.

I met with Dr. Berg when I returned for the spring semester, telling him what I saw at the school, and how I was still planning to go into youth and leisure services. He quickly said, “I am not going to let you throw your life away.” We set up an independent study for the semester in which I would investigate the “guilty pleasure” I witnessed. I spent the entire semester researching Direct Instruction—its history, research, philosophy, and myths. I was in contact with all the big names and read anything I could get my hands on—all the while, “if it’s worth believing, it’s worth questioning,” running through my mind. I was sold! I arranged to do part of my student teaching at the elementary school I visited in the fall.

My student teaching experience at the school was a dream come true. Everything I learned the semester prior was put into practice and I was teaching—truly teaching! No thanks to the teacher education program my university is so famously known for—but a huge thanks to a professor who taught his students to think outside the box.

Passion comes to people (if at all) in many different ways. Maybe it’s a person, maybe it’s a class, maybe it’s an experience or event. All I know is that passion and genuine excitement are contagious. As a teacher, I shared this with my students everyday in the things I taught them. Their interest in the subjects grew from my passion for teaching them those subjects. It took about two days of me teaching history for them to decide it was their new favorite subject (along with reading, writing, math, grammar, literature, and spelling!)

If you love what you do, it will be apparent to those around you. Loving what you do will make all the difference.

Being Broke

So I have been asked to blog about my experiences being a doctoral student. Be careful what you wish for—getting into my mind is not for the faint of heart! :)

What’s been on my mind regarding being a student lately? The fact that I hate being broke! I remember a mentor of mine during my undergraduate degree telling me not to put off graduate work too long--how it is hard for people to commit to it full-time once they have an “established” life-style. Of course me being me, thought I would never fall into that category. I am a frugal person—I save, spend wisely, and am able to maintain my non-extravagant, teacher paying, tutoring on-the-side life-style. Little did I know how “established” I actually was!

Am I broke according the true definition? Of course not. But do I miss not being able to walk into a Target or Ross and buy whatever I want (within reason) and not have a complex about it? You better believe it! Take last night, for example. I went to Target to buy the typical household and personal necessities. I had a list and was determined to stick to it. In my previous life, I would have had an idea of what I wanted and would have had no problem buying extras because, “I’ve worked hard and deserve it.” I found a shirt (not on the list) and wanted it sooooo bad! It was on clearance. It was black. It was cute. I pictured myself wearing it to a number of different events. The old me would not have hesitated. I want the shirt. I need the shirt. I put it in my cart, but debated on whether to buy it for rest of the time I was in the store.

I got my 401K/money market/investment statements in the mail yesterday. I want nothing more than to put 15% of my monthly teacher pay into it every month. This is the best time to be investing! Returns on investments are going to be HUGE in the years to come. Can you say, "Early retirement?" Man, I wish I had an extra $600 a month!

I want to pay off what’s left of my looming education loans from my undergrad and masters. It isn’t much, but I had the ball rolling prior to deciding to leave my “established” life-style for this one of uncertainty.

I want to travel! I used to save money every month just to feed this addiction, telling myself it was my “new car fund.” I spent two weeks in the Greek Islands last summer, thinking it would keep me satisfied for the next few years. Nope—that lasted about a week! I as looking at travel brochures over the weekend, trying to figure out a way I could end up on THAT beach THIS summer.

I want to be social—snowboard, drink, dinners, weekend get-aways—all things that require the almighty dollar. I am the poster child for, “drinks on me.” Sure, will having to adjust, “make me a better person,” “teach me valuable lessons,” and “make me appreciate what I have?” Blah. Blah. Blah. “Yes, Mom. It will.”

I work hard. I play hard. I just wish the working hard part of what I am doing now allowed me to play just as hard.

Dave Ramsey (financial guru) always says, “Live like nobody else today, so you can live like nobody else later.” There better be a later for me, Dave! :)

P.S. I bought the shirt.

My Mantra

Hesitation. As I sit in front of the computer trying to put this blog together, I find myself hesitating. Though I am a fan of being a reflective person, I am not a fan of putting my thought process out there for the world to see, critique, or judge. We’ll see where this goes.

In my masters’ program a few years ago, I had a very spirit-filled professor for a number of leadership classes. How spirit-filled? She spent one class having us all figure out our “number” and then told us our fortune based on it. Creepy, but there wasn’t a single person in the class that didn’t agree with the fortune she spoke of. Anyway, she was passionate about getting us to figure out who we were as people and leaders, and made us do some out-of-the-ordinary activities to get there. For one activity, she made us come up with our personal mantra—a sound, syllable, word, or group of words that are considered capable of “creating transformation” or “spiritual transformation.” She gave us a number of questions to guide us in the process, but assured us that it wouldn’t be hard; it would just come to us. So I spent the week going through the guiding questions, trying to force it, and coming up with nothing. I arrived in class Monday night with something that would do, but knew it wasn’t the mantra she wanted me to find. We went around the circle, saying our mantras and how they represented who we were. (I only remember one other person’s. He said his came to him when he walked into Starbucks earlier in the week: Espresso—strong and to the point. It described him perfectly!)

The circle continued to come my way, and right before I am asked to share, mine hits me. “A work in progress.” When I said it, my professor told me to keep working on it in the weeks to come. I had to clarify that that was my mantra, “I am a work in progress.” I claim to know a little bit about a lot of things, but seem to be a master of nothing. Though I appear (and often joke) to many as being a robot incapable of having feelings, I love learning and bettering myself as a person, friend, sister, daughter, teacher, employee, and citizen. Whenever one of my short-comings were made public, I simply looked at the person and said, “What can I say? I am a work in progress.” Does it mean that I shy away from responsibility? Absolutely not. Being a work in progress helps me give myself permission that I don’t need to have everything figured out, perfection doesn’t exist, and that real growth in any area takes time, energy, and a lot of hard, sometimes uncomfortable, work.

So as I enter my second semester of the doctoral program and am asked to blog about my “feelings,” my spirit-filled professor enters my mind and my mantra has surfaced once again (though it never really goes away)—this time as the title of my blog.