Be The Change

Is anyone as devastated as I am over the Oscar Pestorius story?  I cried every time that man raced this summer and he seemed like such an incredible human being.  The media is even having trouble finding people who will say a bad thing about him – even the victim’s agent said he was a charming, great guy.  What a hot mess.  He was such an inspiration for so many people.  I’m holding onto that whole “innocent until proven guilty” thing, but it isn’t looking good.  What is this world coming to?

On that note – I am going to get back to the quote I have up there.  Yesterday I was heartbroken over the news (AGAIN).  Basically, all the news ever does is make me sad. I should quit watching it or reading it.  Death, gambling, natural disasters, cop-killing ex-cops…it’s all just petrifyingly horrible.  I was scheduled for an afternoon practicum in a 7^th/8^th grade classroom.  It might seem like something that should be easy as pie for me, but when all your experience and training is at an upper/honors secondary level, middle school is terrifying!!  Then add the sad news I read on my lunch hour and I went to my practicum feeling broken and sad.

I was supposed to sit quietly at the back of the classroom and observe, make notes about how to handle the classroom, absorb teaching methods I would want to use in my own classroom someday, that sort of thing.  So there I sat, when my host teacher asked me if I could do them a favor and transcribe for a student with a broken arm. I of course obliged immediately and as the teacher led me to the computer lab, I received an explanation on the student and notification that the student was moderately special needs.

My palms got sweaty and I started to panic on the inside.  My specialty is poetry and modern YAL.  What could I possible offer a special education child in middle school? I felt all wrong for the job and ill equipped to be trusted with it.  I tuned back in post-panic to hear my host teacher finishing their instructions with, “….and since you’re specialty is English, if you manage to get to two paragraphs with the student, please help the student understand sentence structure, grammar and punctuation through questions instead of straight instruction.”  Good gracious, the student and I were doomed.

I sat down in the chair at the computer and typed the exact words the student spoke to me.  The student was fantastic and funny and sweet.  It’s true; there was a prevalent learning disability.  As I typed the words exactly as the student spoke them to me, I fought the urge to edit, revise and change what the student said to fit my idea of “perfect English.”  When we reached two paragraphs, I started to ask the student questions about the information that had been portrayed to me and if the proper language was used to get the point across in a clear and concise way.  The student started to struggle and get frustrated.  I started to falter (after all, there was a voice in my head telling me the whole time this was not where my training lies).

In a miraculous moment of clarity, the idea floated into my head to try asking the student to simply read back the script to me.  As the student and I took it one sentence at a time, I watched a miracle unfold before my very eyes.  I watched this student stumble and hesitate over the words that were incorrect.  I watched the student pause when they saw a word that didn’t fit and in the student’s eyes, I saw that they KNEW the mistakes that had been made.  Through painstakingly slow progress and thought processes, the student was able to identify and correctly revise the paragraphs we had written.

When the student felt it was as polished as it was going to get, they requested I print it out so that they could show it to their group members for changes and revision.  As the student dashed out of the room I thought to myself that these paragraphs were nowhere near perfect in my eyes, but for this special spirit, they were impeccably written.  In a matter of minutes, this very special student ran back into the computer lab with their broken arm and jumped for joy, exclaiming to me, “They said it was perfect and I don’t need to change anything!”  In that moment, my heart melted.  The fullness in my heart that I felt at the student’s joy will forever be a defining moment in my life.

The truth is, I am still not trained or equipped to deal with special education children. I never will be, it’s not where my education lies.  However, this experience opened my eyes to supporting a full inclusion classroom…or not supporting it depending on the circumstance – at least when the day comes, my decision can be based on actual experience and not something I read from a text book.

The truth is, my desire to teach at a higher education level instead of younger children still outweighs any other teaching desire in my heart, but at least now I know that if I ever teach middle school, I will be able to relate to the students and pull this moment from my rolodex of life experiences to try to be more compassionate and understating.

The truth is, even if just for an hour in my day, I WAS the change I want to see in this world.

There is Always Hope

We live in hard world full of people who control so much of our lives and understand so little of what we truly do and go through on a daily basis.  I strive to have a good heart and be a good person with a smart enough balance that I don’t end up hurt or too trusting.  I lose faith in humanity almost daily.  The news depresses me, my job (while I am so, so, so grateful to have one) presents challenges daily and my life, while generally all around good, goes through hard days. Everyone experiences this. It is living, it is existing, it is being right here, right now.

What makes it all worth it? Everyone has their own definition. Your faith. Your family. Your happiness.  For me, what makes it all worth it, is hope.  Hope for a better future, hope that I can become a better person and hope that not all people are really all that bad.

They aren’t.

I witnessed a truly random act of kindness the other day.  The person who gave this act of kindness chose to remain anonymous and did it with no desire for recognition or reward.  While eating out at a restaurant the other night, I watched a person on their way out the door walk by a table full of young men in their fatigues, clearly members of our military.  In a spontaneous moment, the person leaving the restaurant tracked down the waitress and told her that they would like to pay the bill for these young men.

The waitress hesitated and said, “Are you sure? It’s kind of a lot! Do you know them?!”

The good citizen replied, “Yes I am sure, and no, I do not know them, but I know what they do.”

When the waitress discreetly appeared with the bill for the person to sign, she shook the person’s hand and said, “That is just the sweetest thing I have ever seen anyone do, I just want to shake your hand and thank you so much.”

The person paying the bill for the soldiers quietly replied, “They sacrifice for my freedom, they are the reason I have a job and can even have the privilege of buying them dinner.  Please do not make a big deal out of this. Please do not tell them WHO paid for their dinner. Please just tell them I said, ‘Thank You.’”

The bill payer then walked quietly out of the restaurant to their vehicle and drove away.  You will never know that person’s name.  The soldiers will never know who bought them dinner.  The waitress may well never lay eyes on the person’s hand that they shook in awe over such a nice thing to do.

But me? I know who that person was and I could pick them out on the street if our paths were to cross. I never would though, I will respect that person’s privacy and hold in my heart the joy I saw at the young men craning their necks looking out the window trying to identify the stranger who showered them with gratitude and kindness. I will also remember how much joy I saw in that completely random moment of love.

And I will keep my faith in humanity.

And I will remember that it is all worth it.

That there is always hope.

The Day I Turned 28

About 3 years ago, before Doug and I were ever even engaged, I threw him a birthday party.  It was a party just for him with silly kid invitations, food, gifts and party hats. It was a special day that I spent a lot of time planning because I wanted it to be HIS day, a day he could have for his birthday that didn’t involve traveling or a joint family party.  Shortly after that, Doug asked me what my idea of a perfect date was.  Then, he learned something silly about me.  He learned that I LOVE campers, 5^th wheels and RV’s.  I love to walk through them and check them out as they have gone from small trailers to houses on wheels.   My favorite day at the mall is when the traveling camper show comes to town and in the parking lot are tons of open campers to walk through.  It’s fantastic.  However, it isn’t Doug’s idea of a good time and I sort of thought he just brushed it off and laughed at my crazy quirks.  He took me to a movie the next night to thank me for the birthday party and a month later we were wrapped up in wedding planning.  I had totally forgotten about the silly birthday party and the conversation making fun of my love for campers….that is, until I turned 28 on the 4^th of February, 2013. 

I almost always share my birthday with the Super Bowl.  It’s inevitable.  If I don’t share the actual day of football, I am usually at least the day before or the day after.  This makes party planning troublesome, but I have never minded because I actually quite love football.  This year it would have been the best gift ever if Peyton was there, but since he wasn’t,we just enjoyed the commercials, good food and friends.  Doug made me this beautiful cake one day early and our Super Bowl company sang to me.  It was sweet and the cake was delicious.

 

Sunday night/Monday morning, The Hubs woke me up to tell me Happy Birthday. I sleepily opened my present and was so excited by my new Disney movie that I almost watched it right then and there!! However, in classic Ayzlynn form, my desire for sleep won that battle and I just went back to bed.

I took Monday off, mostly because months ago The Hubs asked me to.  He told me he had a day of surprises for me.  He silenced my phone and shut the blinds in our bedroom and let me sleep in.  I am normally up around 6 on Mondays so sleeping until 9 was pretty freaking delightful.  I woke up to a wonderful card and breakfast in bed.

 I showered and got dressed for the day and The Hubs told me to wear a top that could go either way and pack slacks.  We got in the car and headed south.  At Loveland, he took the exit and pulled into Dick’s.  Here, he bought me a Peyton jersey which he had already picked out, he just wanted me to try it on before he purchased it to be sure it fit.  Basically, my entire day was complete in this moment.  I was ready to go home, what more could he give me?! My life was complete!!! 

We had a light lunch at Rock Bottom, where he told the waitress it was my birthday and she gave me free donut holes with caramel sauce.  It was delicious. 

We hopped back in the car and headed south. I was certain we must be going to the city, because what else could we possibly be doing on this already complete day? I was wrong. Doug took the exit onto some service road and I started to lose faith in the day.  Service roads freak me out.  People get lost and murdered on service roads.  I kept asking him if he knew where he was going, he just laughed and told me to be patient. 

Then, it was like the clouds parted and the sun was shining down on the most amazing sight I ever seen. RV AMERICA!!! You guys! It’s the biggest indoor showroom of RV’s, campers, etc in America!!! (or so they boast anyway)  Doug told me I could look for as long as I wanted, we had until 5:30 when they closed.  Holy crap this was fantastic.  I started at the very back and I walked through each and every camper in that store.  I picked out at least 4 that I would buy if I won the lottery.  Doug was so patient and just followed me around and I opened every fridge and checked out every cupboard.  It was also a total bonus that the salespeople there are not pushy at all.  They didn’t even bother us, just occasionally when we walked past they asked if we were doing alright.  I wasted 3 hours in that store.  I highly recommend everyone go there. 

After I had thoroughly examined all the available options in the warehouse, we hopped onto the interstate and headed north again. Then, he took me to the movies – which if you know me, you know the movies is one of my all-time favorite pastimes.

 After the movie, The Hubs told me to change and we headed north again. I was beginning to think we were going all the way home when he finally stopped off in Fort Collins, where he took me to my absolute favorite restaurant: The Melting Pot!  He had reservations and these were waiting for me at our table. 

It was a really lovely dinner and I was so happy to be ending this incredible day with this incredible man eating delicious food. 

Here is the only picture I got of us TOGETHER that day!!! 

 When we left Fort Collins, we were driving through downtown and saw these lights.  I know they are left over from Christmas, but after the day I had, it felt like they were on just to wish me a Happy Birthday.  I usually don’t like surprises because I’m too type A and I can’t be in control of surprises.  However, this day, this surprisingly wonderful day, was worth all the anticipation in the world.  Happy Birthday to me, and remember to never, ever underestimate my husband.  He listens, he remembers, he holds onto an idea for years, and when the time is right, he pounces.