Elementary Science Day

My friend, Shruti Jamindar summed up today perfectly... 


"SOOOO proud of everyone for getting through Elementary Science Day today! Whether you had a great time or experienced challenges, you got through it and remained character, sanity, and patience! I'm proud of you all!!!" 


Today, was Elementary Science Day. This means that all of the lovely ELE majors taking Math and Science 2 this semester had to go out to Union Elementary School in Pembroke to teach our science lesson plan that we had already planned. 


Here's where the problems were... 
1. When we were assigned this lesson plan three weeks ago, we were not told that we would be teaching it. Last semester we got to choose which lesson we wanted to teach. So, naturally, everyone thought the same for this semester. 
2. EVERYONE chose 3rd grade for their lesson plan. Let's be honest here, over half of the people that I'm in class with aren't big fans of 3-6th grades. I myself am more of a 1st, 2nd, 3rd girl... (but will take any teaching job once I graduate...) We've just never had experience with the upper grades until this semester. 
3. Since everyone chose 3rd grade, when the time came for classroom assignments at Union Elem., Our teacher had to move a lot of us around. So, for example, my friend Kelsey went from 3rd grade, to teaching 6th grade. (WHAT?!)
*I had written my lesson for 4th grade... and got 4th grade.*
4. There was a lot of re-writing lesson plans this past week. If you didn't get your grade level that you wrote your lesson on, you basically had to re write it. Because a 5th grader was not going to think that playing with glue or running around pretending to be a gas molecule. (just being honest). 
5. It was pouring down rain today when we arrived at Union Elem. 
6. The teacher I had was not there, there was a substitute, and there was nothing left telling the sub that I was going to be coming. 
7. The kids were terrible: I am so mad that I even have to type that. I absolutely adore children. I love teaching. It's truly my passion... but theses kids today had to be from another planet. (*In a way they were... they're from Pembroke). I will give them the fact that it was Friday, and it was nasty and rainy outside. But have some respect! 
8. The substitute had to fill out my evaluation of the lesson. It's a grading scale 1-5, 5 being the best, and 1 of course, being the worst. 
 -Professional attire: 3... Now, this didn't make sense. I had on dress pants, a nice shirt, dress shoes, and I had even STRAIGHTENED my hair. Which is a HUGE deal for those that know me and my hair... and I was dressed BETTER than half of the other people at the school... and the majority of the people I'm in class with.... 




So, needless to say, it was a fail. But, for all of the amazing experiences that I HAVE had in a classroom through UNCP, this is one of TWO that have been terrible. So it's not too big of a deal. Although telling me that at 12noon today when I was leaving the school practically in tears would have probably made me slap someone... But.. that's the only lesson we have to teach for Math&Science this semester... our "math" aspect of class will be our "Family Math Night" at the same school... but it's a class-wide thing. We'll all be participating in that together. 


So, my first attempt at 4th grade was not what I expected. But I'm willing to try again... at a different school... with a nicer teacher... Perhaps next time I'll wear a tuxedo so that I'm really dressed up. 

A new look

Not for me... for my blog.

I'm not sure if I like it yet.

But... This is the only "owl" template that I could find. So, until I find another one, or something cuter, this is going to be it.

School is stressful, life is crazy, I'm on board for another STW TEC weekend, and I may loose my mind before December.

But, I'm loving every minute of it. :)

Remembering 9-11-01

I grew up the daughter of a Sheriff's Deputy. I have the utmost respect for the people that work to make our counties, cities, and states safe from violence and crime. The fire department was a big part of my Dad's life as well, and I grew up knowing that fire engines made beautiful music and that if I saw one, I should follow it and see how big the fire was. My parents, especially my Dad, taught me that the police, fire department, sheriff's department, highway patrol, and any part of the armed forces was to be respected. And I've always felt that way.

Ten years ago, I at 8:46am, I was in photography class at New Hanover High School. There wasn't a TV in that room, and the intercom didn't work down there. So that class didn't know what was going on. As I went to my next class, spanish, Mrs. Allison had the TV on. Everyone was quiet, some people were crying. I sat next to Jessica Hunter and Will Hogan and I held hands with both of them. No one knew what was going on. Or why or how this had all happened. But the day went on... I'm sure Mr. McAdams came on the intercom at some point and announced what had happened, but I don't remember it. I remember being scared and wanting to go home. I walked home from school with Will Hogan everyday, but that day, I couldn't find him. Everyone was spread out every where and so I just started walking home alone. 5 minutes later, I was being yelled at by Will for leaving without him. I came home, and sat on the couch and watched the TV with my Dad. He tried to make me understand what had happened, but I just couldn't wrap my head around it. I didn't understand what terrorism was, or why someone would hate America. It wouldn't be until much, much later that I would understand. 

The days surrounding 9-11-01 were in a way surreal. No one knew what to do, or what to expect. America pulled together and became one as a nation. It didn't matter what your race or color was, whether you were a man or woman, child or part of the elderly. We were one. 

In December of 2006, my Dad passed away. At 20 years old, I was forced to say goodbye to the man I loved more than life itself. My father would miss out on so much of my life, and it didn't seem fair... It isn't fair. Like I said before, I had learned from my Dad to respect the people that kept me safe. When the car pulled up in front of our church, the walkway and steps into our church were lined with Sheriff Deputies and fire department officers from all over the state, city and county. Seeing those firemen in their dress uniforms made me proud of what my Dad had done for thirty plus years of his life. And tonight, I'm proud again. 

In March of 2009, I went to New York City for the first time in my life. I went with my friend Justine. We went to the mini-9-11 memorial museum and walked around. We wrote a letter to a fire fighter and  thanked them for their service. I can't and will never be able to understand how the citizens of Manhattan felt that day. As I've watched footage from 9-11-01 tonight, I'm reminded of how amazing it is to be an American. To have been part of that day. I'm also remembered that we are never promised tomorrow. We have to be thankful for what we have today, and love everyone in our lives always. Justine and I were able to stand in front of the fire department that was closest to the twin towers... and I wore my NYC fire department shirt from my Dad with pride. Knowing that he had ridden on some of those same trucks when he was younger. 

My Dad's best friends were fire fighter's. I know what it's like to attend one of their funerals. And I know what it's like to lose someone that you love more than anything. Although I can't fathom the loss of all of the innocent people in Pennsylvania, The Pentagon, Twin Towers, and countless rescue workers, I do know that America is proud of the work that those people did that day, and the days-weeks-and months after the attack on America. 

New York City and America will forever be thankful for the job that those first responders did for our country. Not just the first responders from NYC, but the ones from all over the country to flocked to NYC to help, just because they felt like they needed, no, they had to be there. 

So tonight, I thank God that I'm alive, and that I have what family that I do. I have amazing friends. I belong to a wonderful church. I live in a country that is free. Bin Laden is dead. And while no one will ever be able to look at the skyline of New York City the same way ever again, I hope that we can be thankful for what we've come through. And thankful to still be here. Alive, healthy, and loved. 

September 11, 2001 for my generation, will be a day in history that my friends and I will remember forever. Just like my grandparents remember Peal Harbor, and D-day, and how my mom remembers JFK being killed, Martin Luther King Jr., etc. I will always remember 9-11-01.. where I was, what I was doing. And I will always remember where I was when President Obama announced the death of Bin Laden. 

We, in America, will never forget those who died, or what we all went through on that September day in 2001. 

Rainbows

Besides my bunny, blanket, pillow that was my Daddy's, and a collection of baby clothes and books, my Rainbow Sandals are probably the oldest thing that I have in my possession. I was 13 when I got my first pair of Rainbows. I was ELATED. We went all the way to Carolina Beach, to the "coolest" surf shop to get them... (Not really the coolest, but it was the only place that had a size small enough to fit my tiny little feet). They were shiny, new, and super cool. Because let's remember, that in 1998, most people that were wearing them, lived somewhere near the water. People in Alaska were not wearing Rainbows, yet. 

These sandals were awesome. They traveled through DC Virgo Middle School, New Hanover High School, UNC Greensboro, Cape Fear Community College, Los Angeles, and to Lumberton. Not only were they awesome and super comfortable, but they were molded to my feet. There was absolutely no tread left on the bottom and my right big toe dragged on the ground... I needed a new pair about 5 years ago, at best. I've had several pairs of Rainbows since high school, but they were never the same as the "old faithfuls". They were never as comfortable, the black ones left my feet black, and I had red ones that left my feet red. I had a pair of white hemp ones that I lost somewhere. Last summer I bought a pair of Pink Ones. They were exactly like the old faithfuls, but just pink and not brown. I wore them a few times. But I always went back to the old ones. (Remember, I'm a Lutheran, I'm set in my ways. I do NOT do well with change). 

But tonight, I said fair-well to my loving old Rainbows. Because at dinner, my foot got caught on the table leg, and the strap of my left Rainbow was jerked out of it's place. Sigh. I almost cried... No, seriously. I had mentioned getting dessert to my mom when we arrived at the restaurant, but now, I had to. The only thing that was going to comfort me at this point was caramel-banana cheesecake, deep fried, with ice cream, whipped cream and caramel on top. (Which, was delicious, but my Rainbow is still broken...). 

So, RIP Rainbow Sandals... You were very loved by my feet, and you will be missed. You got me through 13 years of my life. And you were able to see many, many things. You will live on in my memory... and perhaps my craft room if I decide to frame you (*Don't judge me*). 

Thanks for 13 great, amazing and comfortable years. My feet will forever be thankful. 

Good art. Solid art.

Today was my second day of classes... which ended up being a very long and tiring day spent on campus.

I got up this morning around 9, and showered, got ready and had a minute to check my email and all that before I made my lunch in my cute little lunch box and headed out to campus.

First of all, parking on campus is a bit ridiculous right now because they're in the process of re-opening the parking lots near the railroad tracks. They did some construction (much needed) and re vamped it over the summer and it's still a bit of a mess. Nevertheless, I finally found a parking place in the general parking lot behind the gym building.. which is relatively close to the Dial Building and the Education Building, where I would be spending my day. I gathered my things, checked my schedule for the room number and set off for the Dial building where my history class was. I got there, with 2 minutes to spare (note to self- leave earlier on Tuesday). Dr. Brown handed me a syllabus, although I had a copy that I had printed out already (naturally).

Dr. Brown began class by asking why we had signed up to take this course. In my head I was thinking... "well, Dr. Brown, I signed up for it because I need 2 history classes this semester for my concentration and this was one that wasn't about Asian or Korean history and I figured I would understand it better." Let me be clear: I love history. All kinds. But I'm more of an American History/War lover. And "War Lover" doesn't mean that I love war, it just means that I find the periods of war fascinating. The title of this particular class is History 4270: Modern European Cultural History. I imagined that it would go in depth of the cultural societies of Europe. BUT, as these nerdy-man history majors answered Dr. Brown's "why are you in this class" question, I began to realize I may have made a terrible mistake. These nerd-men were telling him how much they longed to learn about the cultural surroundings of the great works of art, and how they had always seen these paintings but hoped to learn more about them...

Excuse me? Art? Did someone say "works of art?" I thought we were in a European History class? No? ......

To my horror, this class is about European Culture. It's just also about art. And should really be labeled as an art history class... We get to delve into the glorious works of art by amazing painters and talk about how they make us feel and, of course, the cultural surroundings of these works of art AND architecture in their time period.

....For anyone that knows anything about me, you would know that I'm not a fan of art. And I don't really appreciate "good" art. I don't have a problem with it, I just don't understand it. Art was never my forte in school... Although I can draw a dynamite stick figure... And I can craft the hell out of a card or stamping project. But real art? No thanks. I'd rather check out a hot dog stand in NYC than the Metropolitan Museum of Art. (Gasp all you want to. It's just how I feel.) In other words- when it comes to art- I'm completely ignorant.

Yes, I lived in Los Angeles, CA. Yes, Cameron took me to the Getty Museum on a trip out to see him before I moved... Where we stayed all of 20 minutes and spent more time getting a drink and wandering around the gardens than we did at looking at the actual art work. "Good art, solid art" became our mantra that day. And it still follows me.

So as Dr. Brown was explaining the different essays about art work or architecture that we would be required to do this semester, all I could hear in my head was Cameron saying "Good art, solid art".... Terrible. I know. But DAMN it was funny.

I guess it's not a bad thing that my cousin Sarah is moving back to NC from London next Thursday. Where she just spent the past year obtaining her Master's Degree in ART HISTORY. Perhaps little Sarah can educate her ignorant cousin Kara on these "beautiful works of art." No promises though.

My only hope is that perhaps Dr. Brown will be able to teach me, somehow, to actually appreciate the art. And not just look at the piece and say "Good art, solid art."

Dr. Brown- your work is cut out for you. May the force be with him.


Aside from my realization that perhaps I should read the course description in the class catalogue better next time, the rest of my day went pretty smoothly. After History I had to dart over to the education building in 10 minutes (long walk... not really that long, but this heat is killing me) for ELE 4000 which is Classroom Management. After that I went to Starbucks (on campus! yes!) with Lauren before heading to the curriculum lab for a Praxis 2 workshop... 2 hours later we emerged slightly lethargic and had enough time to grab something to eat before heading to ELE 4020, which is Math and Science, part 2. Math and science is once a week, and lasts for 4 hours. Most teachers the first day of class will normally keep you long enough to hand out papers, go over the syllabus, and talk about important dates... then they'll let you go early. However, having Mrs. Berdeau last semester, I knew better.

And, sure enough. I walked into class and saw our boxes full of the materials we would need for experiments and scales lined up on the window sil. Sigh. Thankfully, the 4 hours passed unusually fast due in large part to the awesome table that I have. Lauren, Whitney, Kelsey and I are all in a group together, which is fantastic. And will probably prove to be a bad idea later in the semester :) haha.

Needless to say, I got home around 9pm and started on school work that I needed to get done and printed out a million different chapter reviews, and science/math forms and such for all my classes. And I should TOTALLY be in bed right now. But I got into this book I'm having to read for classroom management and can't put it down. So I decided to blog... because that makes sense? (It doesn't? well, it did to me... )

Going home tomorrow afternoon, just for the night, to pick up some things that I accidentally left there... including my Wii. Which Mom said she would meet me halfway, but I'd rather watch her try and unhook the Wii from the TV in person... more fun that way :) Love you mama. !
So off to bed, get up, pack a little bag, and on the way to ILM.

Then back to Lumberton Saturday to submerge myself in reading about these damn works of art.

Senior Year.. What???

That's right folks. Today at 4:30pm when I walk through those doors of the Education Building at UNC Pembroke, it will officially be the beginning of my SENIOR year of college... Okay, more like 4pm because I'm super OCD about being on time and I will have probably left my apartment at 3:30 even though I could leave at 4 and be there on time... but, WHATEVER. I AM A SENIOR! And, to me, that's really all that matters.

That, and I get to see all of my ELE classmates and friends that I haven't seen in forever.

AND... Wait for it...

UNCP got rid of Taco Bell (goodbye weight gain from last year!) and, put in its place a full-functioning, LEGITIMATE STARBUCKS!!!!!!! Say what?! You mean I won't be practically falling asleep during my 3 night classes any more? And I WON'T have to drink the "coffee" from the booth at the university center? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!  What am I going to do with myself?
I'm going to have the wonderful option of getting my grande iced white mocha with SOY and NO WHIP everyday if I want it. AND use my UNCP Card to pay for it. Which means that Mama's paying for it really... since she paid for the bonus bucks on my card... but hey, it's not coming out of my weekly money. So that's a plus. :)

So I've got 18 hours this semester. Three elementary education classes and two history courses for my concentration. It's going to be a tough semester, but I'm actually looking forward to it. (Right now, at least). That opinion may change.... We'll see how much blogging I'm doing in another month. Then we can make that decision.

Fall 2011. Spring 2012- all regular classes.... then this time next fall I'll be getting ready to step into a classroom for my internship. and then BAM... December 2012 will be here before I know it and I'll be walking across that stage to get my diploma. And Aside from my future wedding day and birth(s) of a child(ren) that may be one of the best days of my life.

That's all for now... I'll update once school gets into full swing and I can safely talk about how classes are.... Unless I find something even more ridiculous or something crazy happens.

God forbid Hardee's not butter my biscuit in the morning.

God Loves You...And So Do I

God Loves You, And So Do I.  (GLYASDI)....


Eleven years ago this coming Labor Day Weekend, I was whisked away to a 3-day spiritual retreat for teens. A three day weekend where you get to hear other youth your age talk about their faith journey. Where you draw posters, have small group discussion, and come up with a ridiculously annoying and long table name to make the Youth Director absolutely crazy. Share The Word, Teens Encounter Christ has been a movement in Eastern NC for 25 years. Okay, so TEC is really hard to explain in writing, or in words in a conversation, but I'm going to try my hardest to get the gist of it across to you. (Although you'll never fully understand it unless you go, so... )

So, eleven years ago I was 14. I was practically forced onto my church's van with a bunch of my friends and told I was going to TEC. All I knew about TEC was that my cousins Jane and Amanda had gone and loved it. AND, that God would become more important to me and I would learn more about my faith and God's plan for me.  As I watched my mom wave good-bye I thought to myself "I don't care about God's plan." Flash forward to day 2 of the retreat and I did care about God's plan. The people (youth mainly) on this retreat were amazing. The "talks" that they gave related to me as a freshman in high school. I didn't feel like I was separate from everyone else while I was there. I felt included for the first time. I wasn't an outcast. God loved me. God needed to be a part of my life, and I realized that I needed Him in my life too. And, more importantly, I wanted Him there.

Eleven years later, I'm 25 years old and still involved in this amazing retreat. I don't want this to sound the wrong way... but no matter how hard I've resisted or tried to get TEC out of my life, somehow God slaps it back in my face. Almost like He's saying, "Look dear, this saved your life, the least you could do is serve."
Now, don't get me wrong. TEC is amazing. But there have been a few times that calls from TEC to serve in different positions didn't fit into my life at that point....But God's always found a way to send TEC to me when I've needed it the most. For example... Last Labor Day, I decided to go up to the camp where the retreat is held for the "surprise" on the weekend. (I'm not saying anything else, because I'm not sure who all reads this, and some kid from my church may see it and I can't spoil it if they're coming to a future TEC...). I arrived and realized that there was NO ONE there that I knew...that I could see at that moment anyway. As if on cue, Barbara Oates came around the corner. I've known Barbara since I made my first TEC (#21, eleven years ago!). She's now in charge of the board with her husband Tommy. As Barbara and I got caught up with each other, she mentioned that they were in need of adults for the MLK Jr. weekend in January... I knew where this was going. So I politely told her that I would think about it. I talked to my mom and to Cameron and got their opinions...which were basically the same.... both said that maybe this was a good thing... I was in a new place... going through a different part of my journey in life... maybe it would be a good thing....

Needless to say, I accepted the call. I went to the meetings, but I was never really sure if I was supposed to be there. I wasn't sure if I would ever feel connected. Sure, there were people on team that I knew and had been friends with forever ago. And the youth that I was put with was more than amazing. (Brandon is like a little angel that God sent to me)... But there was just something missing... and I couldn't put my finger on it.

I showed up for the weekend in January ready to serve and with a slightly opened heart. But my eyes were closed. Saturday night, when the guests were participating in a highly emotional part of the weekend, the "hidden team" that I was a part of was also having some time with God through devotions and what we called Holy Conversation with a friend or small group. My friend Paul and I reconnected during this time, and I was truly moved by the Holy Spirit. I got to tell Paul about shortcomings that I had, grief that I was still holding onto about my Dad... Long story short, I had been called to this weekend for a reason: To find myself...again.

One thing that still amazes me after 11 years, is that every time I go on a TEC weekend, no matter what position I am serving in, I always think that it will be the same. (After 11 years, you would think I would know better..) BUT... God somehow finds a way to make me see just how amazing His love truly is. And I have been super blessed to have met the people in this retreat. They are some of my best friends, and I can call them at any time, day or night and they will be there for me. No. Matter. What.

So, in a nutshell. TEC is amazing. And it has changed my life.

One of the "sayings" from TEC is the title of this Blog Entry... God Loves You and So Do I. It's written on the little special gifts you are given, we all say it constantly, and that is what the speakers close their wonderful talks with.

Two weeks ago tomorrow, Martha Bailey, a member of my church and member of Via de Cristo (adult version of TEC...who also uses God loves you and so do I...) and one of my dear friends... passed away suddenly. Martha was a woman of Faith and was able to share her faith in so many ways at our church and through VdC. I'm blessed to have known such a great woman, and to have been a part of the women's retreat we did last January. August 6 was her memorial service at our church and at the end of the service, Pastor John announced that the family would receive the congregation in the fellowship hall during the reception. Jim, Martha's husband then stood up and said, "Martha said to tell you, God loves you, and so do I."

Wow. That's all I could think. Actually, that's a lie. What I was really thinking was, "OMG Jim! How could you say that? Now I'm really going to be crying hysterically."

But later, as I was looking at the "God is Love" talk that I was assigned for this TEC weekend on Labor Day, all I could think of was Martha. And of Jim saying "Martha said to tell you, God loves you, and so do I." So I went for it. I typed up Martha's story. And I realized that TEC has made me see that God does love me. And so do all of those people that I have been blessed to meet over the years. Nothing in the world will ever replace what I have in my heart for this retreat. I have learned so much from these high school and college aged youth... and I'm sure they'll never be able to see how awesome they truly are. But I do hope that whoever reads this might be able to understand how much TEC means to me. And not to mention how much it has benefited my life.

And, just maybe, you've realized why us TECites use those words so often...

God Loves You, And So Do I.