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.