The Me's I Could Have Been

Sometimes I wonder how the "History Teacher" Me won-out. I don't remember a gigantic earth-shaking moment when I just *knew* being a teacher was my destiny. There's lots of things I think I could enjoy as a career instead. I don't think that diminishes the choice I did make to become a teacher, it just sheds light on more facets of my character.

I remember when I was younger I would read stories about outstanding young people that were super smart, or an Olympic athlete, or climbing Mount Everest when they were 10. I remember being anxious because I was running out of time to be special for being young and doing something amazing. Soon whatever I did wouldn't be extraordinary anymore; it'd just be within the norm. I never became a famous author or actress before I was 12, but I did plant the seeds of many of my most favorite parts of me during those years.

Author - This was the first career I remember desiring. I realized it probably wasn't the most viable after I started dozens of stories but got so tired I couldn't get to my great climatic idea fast enough that I gave up after a few pages.

Dancer - This is one concept I haven't thought seriously about in some time, but when I was growing up I danced all the time. I took several types of dance classes like jazz, tap, ballet, and gymnastics over 10 years. I still love dancing after all this time, but I quit the classes because we weren't learning anything new -- just rearranging old steps into new dances, and it got boring. I knew I was good, partly because I picked up on new things quickly, but I didn't put in the practice here I would have needed to be great.

Actress - I'm still not sure how this part of me came into being. My freshman year of high school, I remember walking by the posters for the Spring Musical and feeling an instant wave of fear. But by the next year, I insisted that I wanted to do community theater, and I started auditioning for all musicals and plays at school. It was glorious once I got into it!

Musician - There was a time that I was very into playing music; I was extremely involved in band, took a Music Theory class, and had even taken a lesson or two on multiple instruments. I knew I was good, but I also knew I also wasn't spectacular -- I didn't have the drive to practice like I needed. I was content with my natural skill and didn't push myself further. I did always think it would be amazingly awesome to be a player on movie soundtracks, though.

Photographer - For a while I was very into photography and tried to take "artsy" photographs of everything. Then everybody was into photography, and now the whole world is into photography thanks to instagram, so it seemed uncool to pretend I was really amazing at it. I even jobshadowed a photographer in high school.

Journalist/Magazine Writer - This was something I never considered until entering Journalism class my Junior year of high school. (I only chose it over Yearbook because everyone knew the Yearbook staff was kindof snobby... and you had to walk across the street to get to their class.) I ended up absolutely loving it, especially designing layouts. I got pretty adept at Adobe Indesign, and I remember working on a layout and the rest of the staff standing behind me saying it was awesome. They entered one of them into a contest.... hmmm, I never heard anything else about that contest, now that I think about it.

Personal Assistant - I never considered this career until a friend in Advertising commented that I would make a good one, because I often can anticipate people's needs and fill them ahead of time. I call it good Mom skills. Friends have also told me that I can word things very tactfully, and would often come to me to ask an authority figure for something. (This seems to be a skill that turns itself on and off... because I know I am definitely not always tactful.) I can also write very professional letters. One time for a club in high school, I wrote a letter to a business asking for a monetary contribution, and one teacher made me bring it to her to check before I sent it out. She read it over expecting it to be awful and was like, "... Oh. That looks good."

Full-time Blogger/DIY Maven - This is more of a pipe dream, since obviously I cannot write blog posts regularly to save my life. But I like the idea of being a stay-at-home mom and using that time to have a regular outlet for my creative side. I like the idea of being connected to other women and feeling that I could help or inspire them in some way. I wish I had more qualifications to become an awesome blogger in some area of design or crafts. (Secret: I don't consider myself creative, just a great piggy-backer! I borrow ideas I see and just tweak them a little.)

I guess the "teacher me" developed in the background of all the years of trying on those other personas. From elementary school teachers would ask me to lead other students or help them one-on-one. I always enjoyed learning and creating, and somehow in high school I just knew I wanted to be a teacher.

In many of my teaching interviews, people have asked me why I wanted to be a history teacher specifically. I have come up with several answers to that question, but none of them really seemed to resonate with me. Over the past year I have reflected on that dilemma, and have come to the conclusion that it is not necessarily history itself that I love; it is teaching. History is something I feel comfortable with, but feels somewhat like only a vehicle for my real passion. At first, I felt bad for that, feeling like I wasn't dedicated enough to history itself to teach students well. But I have found that my passion for teaching picks up the slack in my passion for history, so hopefully it translates into something great for students. Instead of looking at this revelation as a hindrance, I have come to view it as an open door to feeling successful at whatever teaching opportunities may come to me in the future, either in my family, church, or community.

Looking back on these pieces of me makes me somewhat disappointed in myself for never working hard enough at any of those things to be really good, but then I consider the work I've done to become a good teacher, and I feel like I have accomplished something with hard work in my life after all. (With much more hard work to come!)

What a Difference a Year Makes

Lately my roommate Megan and I have found ourselves continually drawn to the topic of how satisfied we are with our lives... not that we talk about things in those terms, but the things we do discuss have been integral factors in our general life satisfaction. Since moving out of The Provs (nevermind, can't really give Provo a nickname I guess), life has been very different for us here in our little farm town. (SPOILER ALERT: Megan and I are currently working on a new blog about single life in our farm world. Working title: "It Stinks." Don't worry, it'll be more positive than it sounds. Though it does stink awfully out here because of the wild turkey farm nearby.)

Earlier this week we were discussing a quite frustrating situation that's only grown since we moved in, and is exacerbated by our distance from our friends and family in Provo. We had a nice rant about it, and then I joked that I had written about a precipitating event in this calamity in my journal last year. Well, out comes the journal and it has been exactly a year to the day that this infamous first event went down.

After we had a good hearty laugh/cry about that one, I started thinking. Not much had progressed on that front in a year, but what had I done differently? In some ways I think I've moved forward, but in others I've moved back. I've traded in college-student drama for middle-schoolers' drama. I've given up my comfortable circles of friends and associates for men at church we've taken to labeling with "Creepy" before their name (e.g. Creepy Mustache, Creepy Rob, etc.). Granted, I now have an adult job, but even that feels like it's not real, like I'm only an adult for 4 hours every other morning.

I don't know what I'm waiting for, but I can't avoid this feeling of stagnancy. After our hilarious/horrific realization on the one year anniversary of this significant incident, Megan and I decided we needed to do something different. We brainstormed a nice list of possible new things that would get us out and about. (Please note, because this is technically a "brainstorm," all things that were suggested were written down, in order to preserve the flow and creativity of the process.)

Either this blog or "It Stinks" will provide an update on our adventures. :) Wish us luck as we do something about our new, stinky* lives!

*seriously, things don't stink that bad in perspective. just the turkey farm.

It's Time.

This blog used to be called theta. There wasn't really a purpose behind that; just the memory of the superficial joy I had in writing the symbol theta in high school math problems. (I'm a nerd, I'm aware.) Yesterday I was watching Law and Order: Criminal Intent and Goren said that the symbol theta represented death.

This started another round of name-planning, since, in fact, I do not want my blog to represent death. When I started thinking about it, though, it seemed a very fitting time to make a change. Yesterday was also my last day of student teaching. Today is a study day before my last finals week, during which I have no finals, because I was student teaching. Next week I will graduate after five wonderful years at BYU. In two weeks I will be back at home with my parents and no definitive plans to move elsewhere or begin a career.

Times are changing. It's hard to fathom that it's actually time for me to be an adult. I've begun to feel that feeling of terror that comes from not knowing what will happen next.

I wish I had some new and novel way to explain these pretty cliche feelings, but I got nothing. Nothing except time -- time to think, time to plan, time to worry, time to wait, time to grow. Thus, chronos was born.

Over My Head

It's interesting, having a blog... even though I haven't posted in a long time, I often still think of things in blog posts. How would I say this? That'd be funny to talk about. You should tell people that, that's important. Ever since I missed my annual ritual of writing some form of journal entry on the eve of my birthday (ok, the only proof I can find for you was from 2009, but trust me, all the rest are in my handwritten journals), I have felt more of a necessity to get back to blogging regularly. This desire may or may not also be enhanced by the fact that I am now home and it is much easier for Dad to bug me to blog again, haha.

So, new writings *may* be coming soon to a blog near you. For today, I wanted to share an idea that's been on my mind for a few weeks. It started when I was telling my family about the recent book I'd been reading, The Tipping Point (a very good book, by the way). It discusses some cool ideas and cites some interesting studies, some of which I shared. When I was finished explaining the concept of the book, Haleigh said, "Well, that all just went over my head!" In the discussion that followed in response, she said, "Most things go over my head. And I'm tall!" To which I said something to the effect of, "Maybe you've just been living all your life hunched over."

At the time, I was thinking of a legitimately very tall friend of mine who constantly hunches over so as to avoid too much attention. It wasn't until Dad brought attention to the potential philosophical and spiritual meanings of what I had said did I recognize them myself.

I sent these ideas to my friend currently on a mission in Peru. Here is what I sent:

"I've been thinking about it all week, and it reminded me of the scripture from 2 Nephi 1:23: 'Awake, my sons; put on the armor of righteousness. Shake off the chains with which ye are bound, and come forth out of obscurity, and arise from the dust. People hunch because they are lazy, afraid of bringing attention to themselves, ashamed, etc... similar reasons people avoid doing the right thing or following the gospel. It's when we arise from the dust, lift our heads out of the obscurity of mediocrity and straighten ourselves up to our full potential that we begin to live like Christ and become a more efficient conduit for the Spirit."

Since that email, I have recognized other references the Lord and His living prophets have made to this idea. "Living below our privilege" is actually a concept that's been spoken about lately several times. President Uchtdorf spoke to the Priesthood about it this past conference. I have changed his references to "brethren" and "priesthood" to more general terms that include the whole church:

The blessings of the gospel transcend our ability to comprehend. Faithful members of the Church can 'become … the elect of God.' They are 'sanctified by the Spirit unto the renewing of their bodies' and can ultimately receive 'all that [the] Father hath.'

....We are faced with a choice. We can be satisfied with a diminished experience as followers of Christ and settle for experiences far below our privileges. Or we can partake of an abundant feast of spiritual opportunity and universal blessings.

Sister Julie Beck also referenced the idea in her recent BYU Devotional address in January. She quoted concerns from President Packer, again specifically about the brethren, but also included an admonition for the sisters to "live up to [their] privilege" from the Prophet Joseph Smith.

It goes back to the reasons for "hunching" I suggested in my original email to my missionary friend. To give a somewhat silly literal example, today I played the organ in sacrament meeting. My former band teacher Mr. Flohre would be very proud, I sat up straight during the time I was on the bench but not playing, listening to the opening remarks. However, when the attention was turned to a boy's confirmation in front of the podium, I subconsciously relaxed and started to slouch. Then I thought, why did I do that? I realized it was because we were about to say a prayer, and no one would see me slouch.

No one would see me. I was literally hunching over because I was lazy. I am living below my privilege of having consistent perfect posture and carriage because I am too lazy to keep it up when no one's looking. Yes, I obviously put little effort in keeping my integrity of posture.

But seriously. It is easy to see how human nature and error can keep us from raising our head above what we have become used to see the glorious heavens that lay above.

As a last illustration of this idea, this past week I thought of the story of Plato's Cave. (I first became aware of this story, from Plato's book The Republic, in my high school band class, as we played the song, "Escape from Plato's Cave".)

Basically, Plato tells of a fictional tribe that is chained in a cave, facing the back wall, away from the sun and cave entrance. They are chained in a way so that they can not turn their heads; all they can see is the shadows of the world outside their cave. Since they have been chained this way since childhood, this is all they know, and all they believe the world to be.

One day, one of the prisoners frees himself and exits the cave. At first, he is irritated and annoyed as the bright sunlight pierces his eyes for the first time. But as he begins to get used to the light and develop this "new habit of sight", he recognizes the real, truer, and more vibrant images outside the cave that he only saw shadows of before. He runs back to tell his fellow tribe members, but they don't believe his accounts of something better, and put him to death.

I really like this story and how it goes along with the ideas of living below our privilege... we have seen shadows and small doses of Heavenly Father's greatness and love in our own lives, and maybe we think that's all there is. But there is love and power so much more invigorating and all-encompassing than we can ever imagine, if we only take it upon ourselves to escape our bonds and change our vision. As it was for the escaped prisoner, the change may be painful or irritating at first, but the glory of our new sight and recognition of our full potential and privilege will quickly replace all hurt.

May we no longer live letting things go over our heads; straighten up!

It's That Time Again

It is been a tradition of mine for many years to write a blog post on New Year's Eve reminiscing over the past year. Though as the years have passed I have gotten worse with my regular journal writing, I have stuck pretty well to this New Year's Eve thing.

This year has brought many struggles, just like any other year and for anyone else, I am sure. But I am happy to report a few of my highlights from 2011:

- I started and completed most of my education classes and made amazing teacher friends
- I worked as a night shift supervisor at the Testing Center, on the best shifts ever
- Megan and Josh got married! & I helped plan their reception here in Virginia
- I returned to the daycare I worked at in high school to work for the summer, and the kids were awesome
- I moved to a new apartment with my own room and rockin' roommates
- I learned to turn to the Lord and fight for my rights with my TESOL minor
- The whole family was together for Chrismas and New Year's
- Kurt came back from his mission!!!!

The years just keep getting better and better though, so bring 'em on! 2012, we got this!

To Act or Be Acted Upon... That is the Question

This summer, working at the daycare, I had to deal with lots of tattling. Maybe some of it was legit, but it was hard to tell, especially when the issue at hand seemed life-altering to the little kid who's telling me about it. So to save myself the effort of sorting through he-said, she-said (though I started doing this on purpose to teach them a lesson as the summer went on), I focused on what they could do about the problem. Did they have to listen? Did they have to keep playing with that person? No. Did they think they were stupid, like John Bob said? No? Then John Bob must be wrong, so ignore him.

After I established this habit I found myself connecting it to Elder Bednar's talk from a previous conference about choosing to act instead of be choosing to be acted upon by others. His talk does not diminish the fact that people really say and do mean things, sometimes on purpose to be hurtful to us. He did, however, give us the responsibility to chose to view those actions.

Those kids will probably not remember that one moment when I told them to choose for themselves how to react, but that pattern of response has really taught me how to deal with those situations myself.

Psychological Health is Good to Feel

First post in a long time, I know, I know. Not sayin I'm gonna be posting regularly (dad), but I'm ready to start thinking in blog posts again.

This post is named such because last semester, I wasn't in the best psychological health. Not that I had a disease or real disorder, I was just not happy. No one to blame for that but myself, really, because it's my brain and I'm the one that thinks the stuff in it. And for some reason, last semester I was really negative. BUT, I'm happy to report, my brain now is happy and rejuvenated and completely satisfied with life. I think I've come out of this experience knowing myself a little better and am decided that I will choose how to act instead of choosing to be acted upon.

Life is in my hands, and I say it will be wonderful. Hallelujah for a new semester, a new start, and a new attitude!

Identity

Today in my Adolescent Development class we were talking about how adolescents develop their sense of identity. The girl who was teaching my group about the chapter mentioned that the book said that the person who entered adolescence was basically the same as the person who exited.

I felt like I changed a lot during my teenage years. We talked about "false-self behaviors" that many teenagers put on for different groups of people they interacted with. It's amazing that even though we act differently and try out new things, we eventually always come back to the core "me," who we always have been and always will be.

I thought I was outgoing and social in elementary school, somewhat so (with my friends) in high school, and have gotten progressively less so until recently. I always considered my core self be shy who only acted social sometimes, but I am reminded of a blessing that told me I would find that I truly enjoyed getting to know people. So maybe my "real" self is the confident, bubbly one? I just need to dig her out of me again.

Forming one's identity is a lifelong process. While I'm not sure about some things still, I am happy and content to feel like I know most of my core self. I know I am strong and capable and that I love to learn. I know I love to be at home and that I still can be successful and happy alone. I'm excited to get to know me the rest of the way, but I'm proud of the girl that I am so far!

White LDS Third Daughter of Two Psychologists

I interrupt the ordinary posts on this blog to bring you an assignment for my Secondary Education: Multiculturalism class. This is my "cultural diorama;" objects that represent me, my values, and my past.

This 'H', handmade for me by my oldest sister Jaime, reflects my own love for crafting and making things. I am not very creative on my own, but I have found peace and success in seeing what others make and then piggybacking off their ideas.

Jaime also knew my love for music, which has played a large part in my life. I took piano lessons for a year as a child, but stopped them and have since practiced on my own instead. Singing in choirs and musicals and participating in the band program throughout public school gave me my identity, my friends, and my niche. Much of why I enjoyed high school so much and why I had a overwhelmingly happy adolescence was my association with the music programs in my school.

Lastly, this 'H' represents my name, Hilary. Here in Utah I have not found it to be very unique, but at home I rejoiced in being the only Hilary for miles around. Having a name that set me apart became a core part of who I wanted to be; I wanted to be somebody people could remember.

This basket full of Ensigns graces our living room in my apartment. This display combines my love for my religion and beliefs with my desire to create visually-pleasing environments. One day I was tired of how boring all our Ensigns looked just sitting flat on the table, so I rolled them up into the basket. My "decorating desire" has led me to many OCD-like behaviors including the need to straighten pictures, pick things up off the floor, and always have a clean and welcoming atmosphere for guests. I think that this want to visually please other people (through artwork, cleanliness, etc.) also stems from my desire to personally please people.

That desire also includes wanting to please Christ, which is reflected in my recent promises to myself that I will read the Ensign every night. Having these Ensigns sitting in our living room staring me in the face constantly reminds me of that promise!

My sisters molded me into who I am. They taught me about the big things and how I wanted to make decisions in my own life by choosing their own way before me. They also taught me how to be scared of the dark and be disgusted by bodily functions and things every girl should know. I have not always had a great relationship with all of my sisters, but my struggles with them have made me into the girl I am today.

Our parents (or at least my dad), as a note, actually wanted eight daughters. So the atmosphere we grew up in was very girl-friendly and accepting to groom us all into independent, powerful women.

[The Work Series]III. Help a Brother Out

This post goes closely along with the last one about taking responsibility for yourself. Once you do that, however, you must also hold people to that same standard (like my parents did), or else they'll never learn, either.

One day last semester I discovered the show The Biggest Loser on hulu. I had heard from many friends that the show was amazing, so I watched al of the current season and have been following the new season as it goes. The basic premise is that a group of people compete in pairs to see who can lose the biggest percentage of body weight. (Not the point, but one thing I like about this show is it's focus on making a lifestyle change for the right reasons, not to look physically better.) Usually at the end of every week the person (or two people) who have lost the smallest percentage of body weight are in danger of going home.

One week the contestants were divided into teams with seven or so pairs per team. In this case, the team that had the lowest percentage of total weight lost would send home the worst-performing player. This season there were a lot of parent-children pairs, and the editing really focused on them and their turmoil about wanting to help their children stay on the show no matter what. How they interpreted that desire though was really interesting.


This is Moses and his daughter Kaylee. Moses was really worried about Kaylee going home, so he decided he would wake her up early every morning and do an extra workout on their own together. He pushed and motivated her harder that week than he had in the past, and they paid more attention to the meals they cooked and ate for themselves.


This is Denise and her daughter Sarah. Denise took the view of two other parents on her same team and decided to throw the weigh-in to make sure she was going home instead of her daughter. Denise purposely gained 8 pounds so she would be sent home. Other parents gained 1 or 3 pounds to protect their children.

Interesting fact: Both of these pairs are LDS. How each parent chose to tackle the situation at hand was interesting in light of the gospel, right? Moses gave his daughter the tools to succeed. He got Kaylee to care about her outcome and worked with her to make it happen. I imagine if Kaylee still had had to go home, they would have been content knowing they had done everything they could. On the other team, Denise and the other parents took it upon themselves to sacrifice for their children without telling them. They let their kids do whatever they wanted that week, knowing they would take the fall for them.

I'm not saying the sacrifice situation is bad; sometimes it is necessary. Think of Christ, who took one for the team for the rest of us to stay here "on the ranch" as the show calls it. But I prefer Moses' way of empowering his daughter Kaylee and sticking by the results "after all they could do". Instead of trying to avoid the possible outcome, they tackled it head on by doing their best. Denise took the consequence of her own actions, but did she teach her daughter to do the same?

Read part one.
Read part two.

[The Work Series]II. Taking Responsibility

I knew my Classical Civilizations teacher liked to use big words, but when he started a discussion on "moratoriums" I thought he was talking about something like a crematorium. I finally got that a moratorium was stopping work, and in this case referring to his and his TAs' response to emails submitted about the upcoming paper. The discussion was whether they should answer emails right up to the deadline (5:30 on Friday), or not guarantee an answer for two hours before the deadline (3:30) or for a day before (5:30 on Thursday). I thought it was kindof weird he was even asking us; I would never dare to ask my teacher a question about my paper thirty minutes before it was due and then get indignant when he didn't respond. Especially since this paper (and all others) had been assigned since the beginning of the year.

My thoughts were, if you started it late, finish it on your own. My professor had often stated his willingness to look over the whole paper and give comments if it was turned in a week before the deadline. By answering questions up to the minute the paper was due, they were simply encouraging procrastination by giving basically the same rewards to those who worked hard or not. When a student chose to procrastinate on the paper, they also chose the consequence of not having the teacher's immediate support.

This brought me back to high school, and how everyone's parents got them out of school if there was a project due or test that day. As if the teacher would just pretend the thing hadn't been assigned weeks ago. (Though it seemed like some teachers did go that route.) I remember sometimes thinking, "why won't MY parents just take me out of school like that?" but I don't remember any test or project that was so hard or treacherous I died because I did it the assigned day. My parents didn't pull me out of school because they wanted me to take responsibility for my actions. Whether I procrastinated on the assignment/studying or not, I needed to learn that consequences followed every action. Just because something hard was coming didn't mean I could get whisked away to Sick Day land. That's not how the real world is, or at least it shouldn't be. Oh dang, I have a really scary important interview today I don't want to go to. Let me call up Mom and we'll go on a shopping spree to cheer me up & I'll just put it off until tomorrow. This is life. Be accountable for our own.

Read part one.

[The Work Series]I. Deserving Your Dreams

Lately I've observed and experienced several things related to work I'd like to finally form into words. However, in order to avoid a monstrously long post, I am dividing my ideas up into a series of three. First is Deserving Your Dreams.

At almost any job it is easy to see see clearly divided groups of workers; those who are always looking for work to do, and those who are always looking for ways to get out of the work to do. Those who have a good work ethic are delightful to be around and make the load much easier on the rest of us. Those who are lacking in work ethic, however, get me annoyed because they are getting paid the same amount as the good workers.

I guess the easy thing is just to say, "someone else will do it." Because, since the world also has some good workers, it will (eventually). We have a lot of temptations not to work, like talking to our coworkers, eating snacks, texting, etc. But, as our boss said in a recent note, "there is always work to do if you look around for it."

Perhaps this bothers me more now that I am a supervisor, as it's easier to see how the Testing Center as a whole would work much more efficiently if people actually worked for their money. Also because when I was just a regular worker before becoming a supervisor, I worked hard. It wasn't that hard, why can't people just do it?

I also think of a song Mom introduced me to this Christmas Break. One of the phrases is, "nothing can compare to deserving your dreams," and it is so true. Not that being a supervisor was something I wished for every night before I went to bed, but I really hoped it would happen. And now that it did, I feel great. Not to be prideful, but I truly feel that I deserved that dream. I proved myself as a regular worker even when our boss and other supervisors weren't looking, and now that I'm in that position, I don't feel bad asking other people to get to work because I can say I did all that work, too, just like you!

I guess the moral of this part of the series is that it truly does feel better to know that you deserve your dreams. That you didn't get them just because you were in the right place at the right time, or they needed a body to fill a spot, or you tricked and manipulated your way to the top. Good work is rewarded with happiness.

“When our wagon gets stuck in the mud, God is much more likely to assist the man who gets out to push than the man who merely raises his voice in prayer—no matter how eloquent the oration." - President Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Looking for a Fence

In my introduction to teaching class last block, we read an article published in Boy's Life or The Friend or something about how a man's cattle always walked around trying to find where the fence was whenever they were put in a new pen or field. If there was no fence, the cattle would wander off and... something bad would happen to them. But once they found the fence (if there was one), they were content to stay inside it.

We discussed how students would push to find the fence in our classroom, but once they knew where it was, they would be content to live in it. I understood the concept, but found it hard to fathom how exactly those crazier kids would be ecstatic to be sitting in silence in my room one day.

Then I remembered one week of my substitute teaching at Tussing Elementary last spring. The kindergarten kids could not keep their bottoms in their seats even if I had put glue on their pants (which I didn't, that was just a simile so you could get an idea of the gravity of the situation). Finally I took a little whiteboard with me to our table and wrote everyone's name on it. I didn't tell them what it was for, but once the first kid released his bottom from the confines of the seat, I put a tally by his name. The kids were like "what is that for??!?!?!" I told them that I would put a mark down for every time their bottom wasn't in the chair, and if they got five marks, they wouldn't get their check on the treasure box chart for the day. Soon they got the idea and for the next few days I used it they sat in their seats very well. It worked so well that I didn't bring out the board a few days later. Imagine my surprise when one of the girls asked, "Can we do the chart for if we're sitting down again?"

As I thought about those two classes more the past few days, it hit me like an apple on the head that I am exactly the same way. I'm a rule follower. I'm a stickler all the way. I love directions and rubrics and expectations so I know exactly what I can do. In that way, perhaps I form too much of a fence around myself, one which makes it so I can only stand up and have no room to walk around in. The reason I say that is because I go crazy making decisions for myself. When there's no guidelines or a clear right and wrong choice and no visible fence, decisions are so hard! As a teenager I begged Mom & Dad to "give me a fence" and just tell me what to do. If they set the dimensions of my fence for me, I was more than happy to roam around in whatever decision they told me to make. BUT my parents must be super smart about those things, because they'd always tell me I needed to figure it out for myself.

One small instance I remember of this is when I asked my mom how to spell "summer" as a kid.
"How do you think it's spelled?" she asked.
"... with two m's?" I hesitated.
"That's right!"

Spelling isn't really that big of a deal, but even from a young age my parents wanted me to find and form my own fence within the larger fence they had set as my mother and father and followers of the gospel. They showed me the importance of building just the right fence; not too small, as I often made mine and paralyzed myself in person decision making, but not too big as to escape the gospel fence. To each, their own fence. It really does feel better when you know where it is.

The Classroom

Observing many different schools in my Intro to Teaching class has made me think about lots of things, but especially one thing this week: decorating my classroom. Come on, it has to look awesome and inviting and make history look cool, right??

I've been thinking about some things I might use...


curtains... for the windows? hahaha



make my own American flag...



Civil War memorabilia...



globes, painted for use as a chalkboard or not...



a giant world map, either vinyl or painted on something first.

Valentine's Day

Why do people hate Valentine's Day, when there's always this kind of love for them?

Falling

I was thinking about writing this post last night, and this morning I read my dad's post that was very similar to what I wanted to say. Thanks for the motivation, dad!

I recently downloaded this song from iTunes:


I thought it was all very lovely and romantic until I remembered an article dad had given me to read a long time ago. (I can't find the exact one, but here is a similar article.) Basically the idea was you don't "fall" in love, you choose to love each day. Although I still think the song is very beautiful, I think of one letter Kurt sent me:

(click to enlarge)

When I first read it I thought it was just one of those cute things he says. But really, now it makes me feel even more special and loved. He chose to love me. He's not a victim of chance or happenstance or infatuation or some love spell, he looked at all my faults and foibles and still chose to love me anyways. And for that, I will always be grateful!

P.S. Dad, I hope you enjoyed finally reading one of Kurt's letters, hahaha .=)

Why Have I Kept From Singing?

When I was home for the holidays I downloaded all of Enya's music onto my laptop. I have loved listening to her since my parents played her for us when we were babies, but I hadn't taken the time to take Enya with me to school yet. While I was listening to her albums the other day I heard this song, "How Can I Keep From Singing?" I had heard of the song before, but never actually listened to it (that I can recall). Coincidentally, this song was also the one I tried to help Megan and her friend Ben rehearse for their ward choir last night. When it came on again on my iPod tonight, I finally stopped to listen to the words.

My life goes on in endless song
Above earth's lamentations,
I hear the real, though far-off hymn
That hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear it's music ringing,
It sounds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing?

While though the tempest loudly roars,
I hear the truth, it liveth.
And though the darkness 'round me close,
Songs in the night it giveth.

No storm can shake my inmost calm,
While to that rock I'm clinging.
Since love is lord of heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing?

When tyrants tremble in their fear
And hear their death knell ringing,
When friends rejoice both far and near
How can I keep from singing?

In prison cell and dungeon vile
Our thoughts to them are winging,
When friends by shame are undefiled
How can I keep from singing?

I was just talking yesterday about how I haven't really sung or nurtured my talents a lot since high school, and I can tell that my skills have definitely deteriorated. So why have I kept from singing? I have so many blessings and things and people to love and be thankful for.

So I resolve, even if it's just singing to myself in the shower or while I'm doing the dishes or cleaning my room, to return to singing. I can remember how joyful it made me feel, and I want to return to that.

Studies

This semester I decided I needed a structured study of the scriptures to help me learn more than just reading an Ensign article every night before I went to bed. I didn't want to add a Religion class, so I ordered the Book of Mormon student manual from lds.org (which, fun fact, was cheaper new and shipped to me than used in the Bookstore, but that's not the point). What's awesome is that the day after I ordered the manual, our bishop told our whole ward to read the Book of Mormon. I smiled and in my mind said, I'm already on it.

I just started yesterday, so I'm not far in, but one thing tonight caught my eye. In President Ezra Taft Benson's The Book of Mormon--Keystone of Our Religion talk in 1986, he said:

A second powerful testimony to the importance of the Book of Mormon is to note where the Lord placed its coming forth in the timetable of the unfolding Restoration. The only thing that preceded it was the First Vision. In that marvelous manifestation, the Prophet Joseph Smith learned the true nature of God and that God had a work for him to do. The coming forth of the Book of Mormon was the next thing to follow.

Think of that in terms of what it implies. The coming forth of the Book of Mormon preceded the restoration of the priesthood. It was published just a few days before the Church was organized. The Saints were given the Book of Mormon to read before they were given the revelations outlining such great doctrines as the three degrees of glory, celestial marriage, or work for the dead. It came before priesthood quorums and Church organization. Doesn’t this tell us something about how the Lord views this sacred work?

I knew the Book of Mormon was important, but I never fleshed it out in my mind that this book was almost the most important thing Heavenly Father wanted and needed to reveal to us. More important than organizing the Church or restoring the priesthood or any of the things I think of today as big doctrinal essentials. He wanted to get us the Book of Mormon as fast as he could because He knew the impact it could have to lead us to those other great and important things.

This reminded me of a story I overheard my sister Megan and her friend David talking a couple weeks ago. David was sharing about a family vacation spot that the same group of families had visited for over four generations. The man who owned the lake (or wherever it was), who wasn't a member, observed that those predominantly LDS families that always came together over the years could be divided into three groups: those that centered their lives on their family, on the Church, or on Christ. The man noticed that the families who centered their lives on Christ were the most likely to stay together and active in the Church.

Both of these experiences just remind me to get back to the basics. Yes, I love my family, and yes, I love the Church, but do I love Christ? Do I enjoy opening up His scriptures to learn of Him? That's one of my goals this year, to learn more about Christ through His scriptures and come to a firm knowledge that I do know and love Him.

The Power of Positive Thinking

For this week and next Tuesday half of my teaching class is gracing the halls of Scera Park Elementary School in Orem, and I am helping Mrs. Culliman's fourth grade class for three hours every day.

Today I was in charge of supervising the class's PE (which apparently there is no separate teacher for) while Mrs. Culliman received the guest speaker for the afternoon (he was from NASA, which is a different awesome story). They were playing a version of Capture the Flag and were getting very into it (as I am sure most fourth graders would). Side B finally scored, although the culprit had been tagged by a fellow from Side A before he crossed into safe territory. When Side A fellow (let's call him Justin, because I really haven't learned everyone's name yet, but he looks like my friend Justin) yelled that he had tagged Side B man (whose name I do know, but I still think he looks like this kid Brett from when I subbed at Tussing last summer), everyone (especially from Side B) wailed that only two-handed touches got people out. Justin went over to the corner and started to cry, and after I started the next round, I went over to him.

I feel that comforting children is a little hit or miss. In my experience, they either believe you and immediately get over it or ignore you. I really didn't think this was going to work very well, especially since I didn't even know Justin's real name, but I tried to let him know it wasn't his fault and he still did a really good job of tagging Brett. (I have also found this week that when I take the blame for things that go wrong, the kids get less angry.) I told him it was my fault for not letting everyone know that only a two-handed touch got people out, and said I would announce it to everyone so that wouldn't happen again.

I thought about taking the approach that this was just a game, and the next time they played it everyone would start out equal again, but obviously this "just a game" mattered to Justin. So I tried to pep him up and said that his team really needed him to make up that point to tie the game, and they couldn't get a point without him. I asked him to get back up and play when he was ready.

And guess what? That little dude totally scored the next point. I couldn't believe it. I didn't really believe he would take what I said so seriously, but the smile on Justin's face after he ran into the safety zone was incredible. (Of course there was the inevitable "I tagged him already!", "That's not fair!", "He cheated!" chants from the opposing side, but there was no way I was going to dismiss that point Justin had earned.)

What a testament to the power of positive thinking. I didn't really believe what I said myself, but the important thing is that Justin believed it, and he put it into action. I know it's typical for children to change moods quickly, but seriously, he just turned that failure right around into something game-changing. I was honored to give him a high-five as we headed back to class. If only I could believe those positive things I tell myself and others as easily as Justin did!

Lesson 1

My Responses After Teaching My First Lesson to my Intro to Education Class:

- Did I really claim that was a lesson?
- Why didn't I say anything I wanted to say?
- How did words actually come out of my mouth to form complete sentences?
- How did they really understand anything I said?
- I do NOT want to watch this on video.
- What just happened?


In better news, my boss just talked to me about becoming a supervisor on my shift! We'll see how things develop.