A Survey.

Sure, adults still do these. It's like a test of wit.


1. Who would you want to be tied to for 24 hours?
     Will Smith.

2. Who do you blame for your mood today?
     Who's blaming? I credit several people for my excellent mood: my co-workers take the prize today.

3. Have you ever seen a dead body?
     Yes. And not just at funerals, either... (?)

4. What should we do with stupid people??
     Love 'em.

5. How long do you think you will live?
     88.

6. What was the first thing you did this morning?
     Snooze button.

7. The color of carpet in your bedroom?
     Cream.

9. Last person you went out to dinner with?
     BJ, maybe?

10. Are you spoiled?
     Not compared to most people in a developed country.

11.Do you drink lots of water?
     You know I do. You think looks like this happen by accident?

12. What toothpaste do you use?
     Aquafresh.

13. How do you vent your anger?
     What ANGER!?

14. The last compliment you received?
     "Your class is interesting," a few days ago.

15. What are you doing this weekend?
     Working.

16 When was the last time you threw up?
     LAST WEEK!

17. :)

18. What theme does your room have?
     Sleeping.

19. When was the last time you were at a party?
     Shoot. All the time. So many parties. Like every second.

20. Are you a mama's child or a daddy's child?
     I'm not a child. You'd think I got this off of Myspace or something.

21. Would you ever join the military?
     No.

22. The last website you visited?
     Weather.com.

23. Who was the last person you took a picture with?
     Mermaids at Melissa's bridal shower.

25. Last person you went to the movies with?
     People from the dorm: The Hunger Games.

26. What did you do/will you do for your birthday this year?
     Kayaking? Fishing? Except, you can be the one to touch the fish.

27. Number of layers on your bed?
     Of blankets? Just the one. It is so cozy, I don't need anything else.

28. Is anything alive in your room?
     I am. I'm alive. And stinkbugs. So very alive.

29. Today, would you rather go back a week or go forward a week?
     Forward. Last week I was sick with the flu. But forward is even scarier. It's the unknown. What a great question. Still, forward, always forward.

30. What are you looking forward to right now?
      A second cup of tea. Finishing a batch of grading. Reading before bed. Sleeping. Coffee in the morning. The sunrise. The weekend. Dancing. Visiting Waynesboro. Hiking. Summer vacation. Cleveland. Baltimore. Chatting with my dad. Seeing all my family... Best list ever. 

Possibilities for the Future

My niece, Aida, and I were playing this weekend. She's six. She decided we would play "Mommy's work." My sister-in-law helps people to find suitable jobs. So Aida brought down her kids' program computer, and sat at the coffee table in a folding pink princess chair. She began with some preliminary questions:

[We shake hands]

Aida: How can I help you?

Me: Uh, I need a job right away.

Aida: No problem. I can help you. What do you like?

Me: [in character] I like... to... put things together. And take things apart. And I like the color yellow.

Aida: [typing furiously on the computer] That's fine. Good. I have something for you: a construction worker!

Me: Perfect! But what about how I like the color yellow?

Aida: No problem. All the machines are yellow. I have some forms for you to fill out. [Draws four lines on a sheet of paper] Write your name, date you were born, place, and things you like.

Me: [struggling with "place"] Done.

Aida: Great! You start on Friday. Here's your schedule. [Hands over another piece of paper.] Do you need anything else?

Me: [hesitatingly] A house would be nice.

Aida: Sure. I can help you. [Writes out a "check" for $50 million.] Is that enough?

Me: Yes. I'm sure I can find something for that much. How do you get the money to give people for houses?

Aida: Work gives it to me, and I give some of it away to people.

By the end of our session, I had a huge house filled with a few other families, I had changed careers to become a novelist/baby sitter (her idea), and I had a husband named Tyler. And we were both parrots.

The End.

RE: Reading FOR FUN

Recently, James Patterson posted this status on Facebook: "Any of you know any English teachers? Would you do me a favor? Please ask them, in their experience, what their best strategy has been for getting kids to like reading FOR FUN? Or, if they hadn’t had much luck, what they think the reasons are? Thanks."

My friend kindly forwarded this status to me, and of course I wondered, is Patterson asking me how he might sell more books? Marketing advice from an English teacher? But he got me thinking about it, then writing about it, and here we are.

First, I have to ask myself why I want kids to read more FOR FUN. I mean, why would I spend so much energy teaching someone how to have fun? "For fun" alone seems a poor reason for doing things. And I can think of a million more ways to have fun that don't involve as much work as reading; spray painting bad words on a neighbor's shed, for instance, would serve the purpose beautifully.

But I want my students to read because it will help them to think about new things. Reading will help them to live their lives better. Reading will help them to concentrate long enough to think through a problem. And lastly, I want them to read because I'm a cop-out. Reading will teach them all I cannot hope to.

Now I am ready for the "how?". But I am not an expert here. I've loved to read ever since I got the hang of it.

Right now, at the beginning of my teaching career, I can think of three things that I do to encourage readers:

1. My love for reading grew from being read to, so I read to them.

2. I never seem to have enough time to sit and read, so I make time to read in class. They can read anything they want, they just have to be reading and silent.

3. I usually only do things when I see someone else doing it, so I read near them. During our silent, sustained reading, I am reading, too. I let myself get into the book, right then, right there, instead of answering emails and grading things. Then afterward, I will sometimes share what I was reading, something that puzzled me, something I liked.

A Story I Never Tire of Hearing

Just a few days ago, Peter had done the unthinkable: he had betrayed his best friend, after years of swearing undying allegiance. In an impetuous moment, he had thrown it all away and denied even knowing the guy. Then the man was killed. And Peter would never get to say I'm sorry, never get to explain himself. And what would he say, anyway? He has no answer even for himself. He hates himself. His mind trails back to that strange encounter and his heart stirs into thumping: the Son of God was alive again. And then gone, disappeared before he could talk to him. Perhaps it was not important to the Lord, but Peter knows he cannot stand it until Jesus tells him face-to-face that he has forgiven him.

He has to find something to do with his hands, to stop the endless thinking: he tells his friends he's going out, and they all know where he's going. Peter always goes fishing when he's troubled.

They tag along: they put in a night's worth of half-hearted work, and have nothing to show for it. John looks at the sweating and straining Peter, shaking his head. He's gonna pull a muscle at that rate. But John says nothing, because when your heart is empty, and your mind directionless, your mouth is empty, too. Your hands pull at nets in mechanical motions.

The sun begins to rise.

They descry a figure on shore, tending a small fire. He yells to them, "friends, have you caught anything?"

"Nothing," John replies.

"Throw your nets to the other side of the boat!"

James chuckles, even as Peter and John tug at the net to comply. Why not? They cast the nets to the right, closer to the figure.

It seems only a moment until their net is pulling on the boat's side, alive with their catch. Had all the fish congregated to this place, to see their friend on the shore?

John looks at Peter, eyes wide with his sudden excitement, "it's the Lord," he says.

Peter bolts upright. He grabs his long garment and jumps into the water. John looks at his friend, now swimming with quick uneven strokes to Jesus: he remembers another moment, so long ago now, when Jesus had come to Peter in the boat on the lake, but by walking. Now Peter, swimming or walking, would come to the Lord.

John looks at James. With a great laugh, they take the oars and haul the fish to shore.

God's Signature: Happy Easter

"If it's beautiful and it multiplies, it must be God's work," said Pastor Josef this morning. It was a fitting comment, for the entire congregation seemed to be wriggling with new life. In a group of perhaps 320 people, babies under one and a half years constituted perhaps 20. Children under three years... oh my. That would be many more. And it would be far too awkward to try to count the children who are soon to be in our midst: pregnant women were all over the borrowed gym for today's service, taking part in the wriggling in their attempts to get comfortable.

I glanced over at J and M with their new baby. But I can never just glance. I looked. I stared. It's a wonder they haven't mentioned something about it, actually. J and M lost a baby over a year ago just before she would have been considered full term. We all mourned this loss deeply, just as we had all celebrated wholeheartedly when we first found out they were expecting.

"It's not fair," I thought repeatedly. I was just as quick to fire back at myself, "Of course it's not fair. A lot of things aren't fair. Are you gonna cry about it?"

Yes. I am going to cry about it, I hope.

But in not too much time, J and M decided they would begin to do foster care.

Just a few weeks after beginning the paperwork, a newborn girl (who looks as though she had been born of the two, seriously) was put into their arms by the foster care system. Hopefully this is a long-term thing. It sure is lovely to see them. And this morning, their little girl was in her baby carrier, fast asleep in a bright Easter dress and a little pink ribbon around her head. Of course, I gained all this by staring, like I do. And when she gave a start and awoke, M took the baby and rested her on her shoulder. Because she's her mom.

Beautiful. And despite their loss, their love is still multiplying.

So, what do I know of fair? I could easily get stuck in that place of "fair": telling God how things should work out.

Like Pastor was saying last week, some people believe that being a good person is good enough for God. But what do we even know about what is good? He expounded, saying, "God has changed my mind many times regarding the definition of good."

I like this new rule. if it's beautiful and it multiplies, it's of God.

Morning Routine

My morning actually starts the night before, when I'm setting my alarm clock. If I set it for 6:15am, I'm having a really great night, and I'm making plans to wake up and go to the gym. If I set it for 7:15am, I've had a long day, and I'm being realistic about the next morning. I have probably already made my lesson plans, and I clinically conclude that I need sleep more than exercise.

Then, the alarm goes off. And it doesn't matter how I felt last night: I reset the alarm for 7:30 and turn over. I mildly warn myself that I am choosing to settle for a lukewarm shower. (Here in the dorm, hot water is at a premium between the hours of 7-8am, and 9-11pm.)

7:30  Roll out of bed, and occasionally fall onto the floor. Where is the dexterity I practiced so expertly just moments earlier when I was resetting my alarm? Vanished.

7:31 - 7:45   I wander about the apartment a bit:

I press the power button on my ancient laptop.

I  start a pot of coffee. Drink a glass of water. Stretch. I mumble a bit to myself. I doubt I did this when I lived with other people. It's amazing how quickly one can wake up with just a little outside motivation; even the desire to appear friendly is enough for me.When one lives alone, there's no such need. (Perhaps lonely people are often grumpy all the day long because they just never wake up!)

By then, my computer is on, and I log in.

7:46 - 8:10  Shower. This may seem like a long time. And it is. It's ridiculous.

8:11 - 8:15   My computer has loaded all its applications, and I can now check the weather and my emails while sipping coffee, robed.

8:16   I realize that I still need to make copies of notes and create a vocabulary quiz for my English 9 class. I decide to hurry.

8:17 - 8:30   I make and eat breakfast (that is, I pour granola and rice milk into a bowl) while reading the poem of the day from MacDonald's Diary of an Old Soul. Look at the clock, look away, forget, look up again. I have to hurry. Sip. Sip. Sip.

8:32 - 8:40   The mania sets in: clothes, hair, makeup, keys, books, planner, out the door.

8:41   Wait. SHOES! Back in the apartment.

8:42   In my classroom.


What do we learn from this? I could eliminate serious time in the mornings if I only had a new computer.