Sunday, August 10, 2014

Words of Wisdom for Young Teachers


Another August has rolled around, and with it is another year in education. I am to the point of my career where I sometimes have to pause and think as to how long I have been involved in this crazy, yet rewarding, exercise. For the first time, this summer I actually pondered the idea of “retirement.” I am far from the normal retirement age for most, but the thought hit me that I could retire in 12 or 13 years – at least from public school teaching in Missouri – and go on to do something else. My mortality really began to sink in.

A week on St. Simon’s Island, Georgia, inspired me to tell my wife my crazy plan. We both could retire from Missouri at 55, move to the Georgia coast, and we could do something different. There is nothing more I could see Jodie doing than working in the Glynn County Library looking out on the Atlantic Ocean every day. As for me, I would have to keep my skin in the game, doing something with kids.

Yes, it is premature to plan anything that far out, particularly with family here in Missouri. However, it struck me that we have passed what is probably the halfway point of our teaching careers. We are survivors. So many of those who started out with us fresh out of the University of Missouri College of Education twenty years ago bailed out for other pastures long ago. It made me ponder what is it that has kept me going. Jodie has spent her career in only two districts. I have been in seven, Hazelwood likely being where I retire here in Missouri. I have taught in central Missouri, as well as both metropolitan areas, Kansas City and St. Louis. I would have laughed at anyone who foretold my future at 25, when I first began, that I would be 43 and an elementary librarian. I have always, first and foremost, considered myself a high school HISTORY teacher. The reality is I am a teacher of children, not of history. Teaching for me alternates between high school summer school and elementary during the regular school year. My roles may alternate, but my mission remains the same: I am here to prepare kids for their lives ahead.

Years ago, at an outdoor cafe on the outskirts of Vienna, I asked my father to distill his wisdom of ministry down to a catchy slogan to put on a pencil. His response was simple: Live a Grateful Life. Perhaps the same thing can apply to teaching. Be grateful you have the opportunity to touch the lives of children, and remember that each and every day.

So for all you newbies (and other young teachers out there), this is Professor Jon’s ten precepts for longevity in this crazy profession. I have not always followed these during the course of my career, and at times I have paid the price for it. This is what I have learned, and my belief is that other colleagues will echo my sentiments.

1. Even veterans have first day jitters.

Today is the 10th of August, 2014. I have been through nineteen first day eves and while my anxiety levels have subsided over the years, I still have one simple request: get the first day over with. By this time tomorrow night, Day One will be in the books and life will begin to return to a normal rhythm. I had the same feeling the night before summer school began, even though I was teaching my strongest subject and with the age-level of kids I was most comfortable. Teaching is a stage, and you are going out there to face the bright lights and high expectations. More than anything, you want to make a strong impression and have everything go smooth. Chances are, it will. You will weather the first day, and the first week will be gone before you know it. The honeymoon period will soon end, and things will “get real” really fast. Just remember this: come well-prepared but flexible. Your lesson WILL be interrupted with an announcement over the intercom. You WILL have to call that first parent to handle a child’s behavior. You WILL find out that the printer jams, the projector is acting sketchy, and kids will have those moments. Handle it with grace and aplomb, and remember this is a profession of humanity.

2. Establish expectations before content

The first week of school is not the time to jump right in and hit the meat of your curriculum. In the library, checking out books is only part of my job. Before children have the opportunity to browse for books, we must establish procedures and expectations of what our time in the library looks like. How we enter the library, how we interact with each other, and even little things like getting permission to sharpen a pencil or go to the restroom must be taught, modeled, and re-taught. Kids are coming out of the “off season” of their academic careers. Get them – and you – into the routine before tackling the big stuff.

3. High expectations will make kids like you.

I will be brutally honest. I am not a “rules guy.” I have always bristled at teachers who get continually wrapped up in trying to make all kids toe the same line. For years, I have compared my wife’s teaching style to a symphony. Everything is laid out in “movements,” and there is a logical progression that reflects her borderline Type A personality. My teaching style is more like a Grateful Dead show. I have a “set list” for my performance, but it is the quirky moments which drive me. However, both of us see teaching as a performance with an end in mind. Not every kid will be a gifted writer. Some will be lucky to write a coherent piece of writing. That is okay. We all want our students to be successful, but we must face the reality that success comes in different forms and at different rhythms. Remember that our goal is to see growth in every student. Some grow faster, some creep along. The trick is to keep them moving. When I look back at my favorite teachers, I recall some were serious and some were loose, but they expected the best of me. That made me know they cared.

4. Your classroom does not have to be Pinterest-worthy.

When kid come to my library, they see an eclectic collection of artifacts that I have collected over the years. The dog section has photos of my Doggy Hall of Fame. I have my mother’s antique train set, the model of the tractor my Granddad Brown used to drive around the farm, and other insights into my past. It is eclectic, but not perfectly staged. It reflects years of my teaching life. A new teacher told me she has spent close to $500 before the start of school on decorating her classroom. That is insane! Teachers are the pre-eminent life hackers. We cobble together ideas that make our rooms inviting and learn-worthy but it does not come out of a box pre-assembled. There is no IKEA flatpack classroom.

5. Learn who to trust

By all means, establish strong relationships with your school secretary, custodians, and the lunch ladies. They are the ones who will drop everything to open your classroom when you left your keys at home, who will run those emergency copies as a once in a while favor, and who will comp you lunch when you left your brought-from-home lunch on the kitchen counter. They are the backbone of the school. School will function when your principal is pulled out for an all day meeting at the Head Shed, but order grinds to a halt when our secretary, Mary Holland, is not around to run the office. She thinks she is dispensable. She is so wrong.
You don’t have to be best buds with every teacher in your building. Be professional, but spend a few months learning the dynamics of the building. Notice who walks out the door at closing time with a purse on her arm and nothing else. Notice the clique of teachers who come early to school to visit and gossip over coffee in the hallway, not to make sure their classrooms are ready for kids. These people are everywhere. Too often, they are the ones who are involved in building politics, which is my next precept. I talk outside of school with maybe two or three colleagues. We bonded during those days when we were in the building at 5 p.m.

6. Avoid building politics

Some folks live off drama. I have dealt with administrators who welcome building drama because it is a way of dividing and conquering the staff. Others can rise above it and neutralize faction to some extent. The reality is it will always be there. The greatest role model I have witnessed in rising above this is my wife. Her head principal comes to her in confidence and consults her like a fellow administrator. He knows she doesn’t have time for that foolishness. You can’t control political machinations but you CAN control how you deal with it. When someone tries to draw you in, just say “Hey, I have a bunch of stuff to do in my room.”

7. Don’t try to be Super Teacher – just be authentic

Not every kid is going to be “advanced and proficient.” We see kids for seven hours a day. There are greater environmental factors at work that we have no control over. It goes back to the simple goal of getting every kid to grow in their emotional and academic journey.

8. Don’t Personalize Student Behavior

I recall a student who from Day One of Kindergarten gained a reputation for pushing the envelope with acceptable behavior. I saw some teachers become utterly exasperated with him. One would say “How DARE you act like this in front of these other children!” I cringed when I heard that. First, the kid knew this public shaming was just a front. Secondly, it made him feel like he was less worthy than other kids. This same teacher confronted me when I would let this “problem kid” in her class have responsibilities in the library. It was “unfair to the other children.” I asked this child if he knew the parable of the prodigal son. I told the story and asked how it related to him.

Gee, Mr. Sanders. I dunno.”

Buddy, if God can forgive even the wayward and hard-headed like you, I can certainly do the same.”

A smile came across his face. His classroom teacher last year kept him on a tight rein and held him accountable, but he still thinks the world of her because she didn’t personalize his behavior. It inspired me to do the same.

9. Put in extra time but don’t kill yourself doing it.

Some teachers can come to school with purse in hand and leave the same way. To do this job well, you have to apply the extra grease, particularly early in your career. There will be evenings spent working on lesson plans and combing the web for new ideas. However, you must not make these an everyday occurrence. Coming home with a tote bag full of papers and falling asleep on the couch with them is not healthy. Give yourself maybe one night a week where you block an extra hour or two at school. Close the door. When the librarian comes by to visit, just say “Sanders, I love ya but I gotta get this done.” If you are married and/or have kids, this is where you ask your spouse to step up and grant this one concession. If you are able to come to school early rather than stay late, by all means do it. Oh, and keep your weekends sacred. I used to bring papers home to grade on the weekends. They can wait.

10. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.

Pace yourself. The longest stretch of the school year seems to be from August to November. October never seems to end, and by the time Thanksgiving break rolls around, you are so ready to give thanks. You have a brief spell before Christmas, a good chunk of time off to recharge your batteries, and then get back in the swing come January. By Presidents’ Day, you have had a couple three day weekends and know Spring Break is looming on the horizon. After that, things begin to wind down after testing and you see the light at the end of the tunnel. Like a marathon runner who knows when to take food and water along the route, experienced teachers know how to pace themselves even at those moments where you think the year will never end.

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I don’t profess to have all the answers. I can only speak from my own experiences. One last bit of advice: constantly reflect on what you teach, how you teach, and why you teach. There is a science to teaching, and it can be taught. The art side comes from experience. That is the part which makes it our life’s work.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Approaching the Bridge

The following is NOT my original piece of writing. All glory goes to my father, who delivered this nearly nine years ago on his retirement from Grace Church.

I heard him preach a homily for a dear friend last Saturday, and it reminded me of the gifts of word and spirit God has bestowed on my dad.

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Grace Church, Jefferson City
Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost -- Proper 13-A
July 31, 2005

+In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. AMEN.
Many years ago I drove an elderly parishioner to the St. Louis airport. I suspect that she was an industrial strength talker, even before she came to live alone as a widow. On the way in she talked while I looked from side mirror to rear view mirror and negotiated the heavy I-70 traffic. Obviously there could be little eye contact, but I thought I was inserting the socially-required minimum of “um-hmms” and “you don’t mean its.” But as we approached the Missouri River Bridge at St. Charles, she said, “Now Father, I have just one more thing that I need to tell you, but this time I want you to listen to me.”
Folks, we are approaching the bridge here, and I have just one more thing that I need to tell you, but this time I want you to listen to me. Seriously, I deeply appreciate the fact that you have always listened to my sermons and have responded in a highly specific manner. You have not always followed my suggestions, but then neither have I.
Very few times over the years have I deviated from the church’s lectionary, that orderly three-year cycle of Biblical readings that prevent preachers from just harping on their favorite themes. Today, however, I would like to deviate from the lectionary and give what I think is a summary of my preaching. Last week I carried home four file crates containing thirty-nine loose-leaf notebooks of sermons. I must confess that I have repeated a few of them over the years, particularly this past year, but not many times over the long haul
First of all, I have always tried to be orthodox. If the Microsoft Corporation were to publish a “Heresy Check” program, I would buy it. I may wake up in the middle of the night with a revelation that God actually exists in four persons, not three, that God in fact is a Holy Quadrinity. That revelation may be an exciting moment for me, but I doubt that it would be helpful to you in your desire to know and love God more deeply. Far more helpful is the Orthodox faith that is the sum total of the search of the entire community over the course of two thousand years. My job has been to try to interpret it for us in accordance with the times in which we live.
I have preached a great deal about the Kingdom of God, since that was the primary message of Jesus. I have talked about the Kingdom as event, rather than place. I have talked about eternal life as a quality of life that must begin now, even though it continues after we die. It is offered to all of us, but we must accept it. And the hard part is to allow ourselves to be transformed to the point that we truly want it.
I have preached about values, encouraging us to place our trust in the things that are not seen, the things that are eternal. I have preached about values because of my own internal struggle with values. You thought I was just trying to be humorous when I told you how excited I become when I smell the Styrofoam that encases new electronic equipment. That was an honest, not very pretty confession of my real values.
I have preached a great deal about healing, again because there are so many healing stories in our lectionary, but also because I have dealt pastorally with so many hundreds of people who were ill. I remind us that God’s will for all of us is health. It is difficult for me to imagine that God would engage in biological warfare against his own creation, smiting us with dreaded viruses and bacteria. I remind us that every illness has three dimensions--physical, emotional, and spiritual. Healing can take place in any or all of those areas. Sometimes death is the healing agent. The disease wins the battle only if we come to identify ourselves with the disease, if we actually become the disease. My theories about sickness and health are long held, but those theories were borne out to me in my own experience the past year and a half.
I have preached a great deal about the Eucharist. This weekly event is a reminder that we are to live our lives with thankful hearts. I believe this sacrament to be as well a prelude to the heavenly banquet in the Kingdom of God. I believe in Christ’s real presence in the sacrament. I treat the consecrated elements themselves with deep reverence and respect; although, I believe the Sacrament is as much about the transformation of you and me into the Body of Christ, in order that we might be Christ’s presence in a broken and fallen world. 
I have preached a great deal about living in community. So many of the readings from Paul’s letters have dealt with the issues of the religious community, and for two thousand years every Christian community has struggled for unity and peace. I have encouraged us to be honest with one another, but to continue to look for Christ in one another. And we have succeeded.
I have preached about being concerned for the needs of the world around us. We must honor Christ’s Presence in the Sacrament of the Altar in our willingness to reach out to the poor and to all who are on the margins of polite society. I have encouraged all of us to find places in the community where we can provide hands-on service, whether it is a church program or a non church program. 
I have preached the seasonal themes of hope and expectation during Advent, the Incarnation during the twelve days of Christmas, the showing forth of Christ to the Gentile world during Epiphany. I have preached repentance during Lent and sacrificial death and atonement in Holy Week. On Easter Day, as well as every other Sunday I have tried to preach resurrection. Without resurrection there is no Christianity. God will raise us up when we die, but will also raise us up many times during this mortal life. I have preached the Pentecost message of the Holy Spirit, reminding us that the only life we have is from God, and the only hope for the continued existence of the church is the indwelling of that Holy Spirit of God.
Finally, I have preached a great deal about love, especially at weddings and at the Maundy Thursday Eucharist when we reflect on Christ’s New Commandment of love. I have preached love as act, rather than a feeling. I have preached love as commitment. I have preached love as the willingness to stand by another person, regardless of any feeling that we might have at any given moment. That is the way I have loved you. At a few times we have had our differences, but I have always considered it my job to love you no matter what. For years I thought it was my job as a priest to love you. In more recent years I have come to see it as my job as a baptized person to love you.
These are my last words as we cross the bridge. I have loved you, because in your faces I have seen the face of Christ. And for the very same reason, you must continue to love one another. Now this time listen to me.


(The Rev.) Harvel R. Sanders

Thursday, January 23, 2014

101 Words: Poems to Remember my Grandmother

101 Words for 101 Years: 

Poetry in honor of Melvine Brown, 1912-2014


I had a thought this cold January morning, the day before the Browns gather to celebrate the amazing life of my grandmother. If I had to express memories of my grandmother in 101 words, how would I do it? I could write a book about my grandmother's remarkable life and legacy, but I am choosing poetry.

Prologue

Love, faith and wisdom you imparted without abandon -
from Clover Leaf Farm you loved the land and your family.

You fed us with spiritual gifts, as well as your delicious cinnamon cake -
Gram Cake was its endearing moniker, warm from the oven in your cozy kitchen
on a cold winter's day or a lazy summer morning.

Nights around a card table, rolling your eyes at Bob Brown's reckless
abandon at overbidding and loving every minute of it.

Sumptuous feasts at your table, gathering your family; memories endure forever.

All because of a woman we called Grammy Brown. God's treasure.


Cards


Four at a table: you and Granddad, me and Rob.
I was never very good, but Rob was truly his grandfather's namesake.

Passion, daring, and a lot of moxie.

Seven no trump. “Bob Brown, you're gonna put us out.”
“Oh garsh, Melvine! Trust me on this.”

“Mmmph,” you replied with a roll of your eyes. You knew he was
just actin' “simple.” You knew him well in fifty plus years together.

Last card played and Rob cleans the table. Our grandfather catches a steely glance
and smiles, knowing he has irked you.

“Deal another hand, Robbie.”


Gram's Kitchen


Bacon in the pan, eggs on the way, Gram Cake in the oven.
Bob Brown pulls cereal and an empty Cool Whip tub from the cabinet.
He goes for his “fine china.”

“Bob Brown, put that up. We have eggs on the way.”

Full strength coffee, never decaf.
Not “that stuff Judy drinks.”
Rob and I giggle.

You pour him milk in the Hamburglar glass from McDonald's in Bel Air
back in 1977.

Yes, Rob still remembers it.

“Stay out of that sweet tea, Jon. It has to last for dinner.”

“Yes, Gram.” I smile.

Tennis


Sunk below Fawn Grove Road,
the tennis court is now a memory.

But it lives on in our thoughts.

Many times, my brother was stubborn
and didn't want to run off in my farm adventures.
But offer a game of tennis and Rob was on.

“Gram, we're going up to hit a few.”
She knew what we meant.

Wooden rackets on a clay court.
Two little boys. Hours to spend.

Then Gram would come up the hill.
“Okay boys, Grandma's gonna bop around for a while.”

Later, at 70, you would still play with us.
Loving it as always.



Family Dinners


Gathering the family was her greatest joy.
Every meal she wrote an index card,
and detailed what she served.

Celebrating Sarah's baptism in 1974 – she wrote what she served.

Pot roast, sea foam salad, Johnny Beakes' favorite mashed potatoes.
Homemade rolls, diabetic coma-inducing sweet tea, a mound of sweet corn ears.

You tolerated Sarah's vegetarianism, even though you said “mmph, that's not right. How can you not eat meat?!”

“Gram, you need any help?”
“No, no, no. I got it.”

She was queen of her domain and to watch her work
was a work of artistry.


Dinner Out

We arrive in Stewartstown at Taylor Haus.
Jodie gets the door, and in her sweet voice
says “Here Gram, let me help you.”

I am such a lucky guy. My two favorite gals out for dinner.
Doesn't get much better than this.

Gram walks in with her “buddy,” the four-pronged cane
that she uses instead of a walker. Even at 95, Gram keeps it real.

She pushes on to the back dining room, ignoring the “section closed” sign.

Jodie smiles and whispers: “When you get to be Gram's age, you sit where you want!”

Amen, sister. Amen.

Epilogue


It is almost surreal that Gram is gone.
When you live for 101 years, it sometimes seems that you WILL live forever.

I know she is with God. She has to be. God wouldn't bless her with that long life
if he didn't have a special love for her.

Gram, a year ago, we celebrated your 100th, and I fulfilled a promise
that I would pour a glass of single malt and toast your memory
and offer up tears of joy.

No reason for sadness on this day. How many families were lucky enough
to have you for so long? Amen.