Notice Them

As part of an after-school training today, we did an activity where we wrote words of encouragement on sheets of paper taped to one another’s backs. As someone whose primary love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch, the activity was right up my alley.

I decided to take the opportunity to tell people things that I’d been thinking for some time but hadn’t had the chance to say. “You have a beautiful heart.” “You have an encouraging smile.” “You are always so calm.” “You are an amazing teacher.” “You are my people.” “You are one of the strongest people I know.”

Since I decided to take the activity very seriously and write full sentences in my best handwriting, I didn’t make it to very many people. But I thought about what I’d say to a lot of people, and I realized two things:

1) We shouldn’t wait to tell people positive things about themselves. It’s not hard to write a quick note or send a quick e-mail. And if we want to remain anonymous, it’s not hard to do that either—especially in a work setting.

2) It’s easy to pay attention to people with whom we click and to find positive words about them, but it’s difficult to find something genuinely kind to say to people with whom we don’t immediately connect. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that it’s easier to find negative words to say about people with whom we don’t immediately connect. I’m just saying that it’s harder to make meaningful, personalized observations of people with whom we have less interaction, conversation, and time.

I know that we’re all busy. I know that anything additional to the must-do list can seem like an imposition. But in a world where information is spinning out of control and words are flying at us at what seems like a million miles per minute, maybe we need to make more intentional efforts throw positive words and information into the mix.

So write or say those words. Make those phone calls or send those texts. Mail those cards or place those notes in people’s boxes. Make an intentional effort to notice and connect with someone outside of your immediate comfort and attraction zone.

For when we notice someone—when we truly notice them—it can make all the difference in the world.

I Want To Be An Uber

As part of a rhythm activity this week, my 2nd and 3rd graders shared their dreams for the future. If you want to know what’s on the radar screen of their little minds, then read on.

“I want to be a famous You-Tuber.”
“I want to be a gamer.”
“I want to be a Circle-K worker.”
“I want to be an Uber (driver).”
“I want to be a millionaire.”
“I want to be a doctor.”
“I want to be a teacher.”
“I want to be a vet.”
“I want to be a soccer player.”
“I want to be a military person.”
“I want to be a grown-up.”
“I want to be emo.”
“I want to be kind.”
“I want to go to Los Angeles.”
“I want to go to Hawaii.”
“I dream of no war.”
“We want no wild fires.”

As one of my 3rd grade groups worked today, they called me over to hear their work. Having already heard one of their hopes—in a correct rhythmic sentence!—I was looking forward to hearing another one. Instead, I walked over and heard this:

“We love you Miss Deaton.”

I must admit, I got a bit teary eyed. Their words were so unexpected—and the rhythmic sentence was so correct—that it took me a moment to respond. When I did, I changed the rhythm to make it say, “I love you, too.” When I walked away, the group was beaming. My heart was beaming, too.

MLK, Jr.

“Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.”

This is the quote that has been on my mind this Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday. This is the quote that has struck me this year and made me ask myself if I am a person of “good will” but of “shallow understanding” and “lukewarm acceptance” when it comes to so many difficult topics and issues. Am I someone who would rather keep peace in the form of cheap comfort or am I someone who is willing to be disliked by the status quo for standing for what is right?

I’m afraid that I know the answer. And I’m afraid that I don’t like it.

God: Help each us to find our own unique voice—our own way of speaking Your voice—and then help us to speak it. As you have challenged, help us to “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute.” Help us to “Speak up and judge fairly;
defend the rights of the poor and needy.” May we remember that there are so many layers of destitution—so many layers of poor and needy—so many reasons that people cannot speak for themselves—and may we then be a people—may I be a person—who does not settle for shallow understanding or lukewarm acceptance but an absolute understanding of your Love, justice, and mercy for all. Forgive us, God—forgive me—for I have sinned and fallen short today and every day. Help us—help me—to do better than this. Amen.

I Believe In You

Kindergarteners can be space aliens. Sometimes, I look at them wandering around the room, being super silly, completely happy not doing anything I ask, and I think, “I really hope no one comes into this classroom right now because it looks like I have no control over my classroom.” And, well, sometimes it feels as if I don’t.

That happened this afternoon. As the little aliens pushed all my buttons, I took one deep breath after another, trying everything I knew to do to remain calm and teach proper behavior…until…I exploded. And the true irony of it all? I was trying to teach the students about peace while standing in front of them far from peaceful.

…

Earlier today, a student made and gave me a drawing. It says my name and includes the phrase, “I believe in you,” along with the words hope, love, and light. I imagine that he was taking a cue from a piece of art that I have hanging above my desk, but still…I love his drawing…and I want to believe that when he comes to music class, he feels hope, love, and light, and that I believe in him.
…

I’ve been teaching about MLK, Jr. in preparation for the holiday that’s coming on Monday. At the end of his famous “I Have A Dream” speech, MLK referenced the song, “Free At Last.” He said, “…we will speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands in singing the words of the old Negro spiritual, ‘Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, I’m free at last.” Then he figuratively dropped the mic and walked off stage. Five years later, his tombstone was carved with those same words: Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, I’m free at last.

…

Friends: There will be times in our lives when we get it right—when we speak words that will be remembered for all of eternity or act in ways that we’re everything we’ve ever wanted to be. But then there will be times when Kindergarten space aliens cross our paths and we can only pray that no one walks in to witness the cacophony.

That’s how life is. It is up and down, push and pull, failure and forgiveness, positive and negative, give and take.

Yet through it all, God is there, offering true peace—extending hope, love, and light—gently whispering, “I believe in you.”

…

Amen.

Calendars for the Kids

We have a tradition. On the day after Christmas, we go to the bookstore to buy calendars at 50% off. I buy calendars for friends and family members, and I buy calendars for my classroom.

This year, I bought five calendars for my classroom: Mister Rogers, Peanuts, Unlikely Friends, Harry Potter, and Muscle Cars. Because I was given three personalized calendars and sent one from the zoo, I now have eight calendars in my classroom and one in the hallway outside my door :-o!

My students keep asking why I have so many calendars. I say, “Because you like them.” And they do.

In the past, I have tried to fill my room with inspirational calendars. Last year, amongst others, I had “The Road Less Traveled” and “Famous Women in Science” as my room’s decorations. No one ever commented on those calendars. I don’t think the adults noticed, and I think there were too many words for the kids—and kids don’t always care so much about words.

They loved my Unlikely Friends calendar, though. I received lots of comments on the animals and how cute they were. And they liked the Dr. Seuss calendar. The fun illustrations caught their eyes.

So I took a different approach this year. I decided that if I couldn’t inspire them, then I would make them smile 😊.

I couldn’t find a Dr. Seuss calendar that day, so I substituted Mr. Rogers. I’ve had the Peanuts calendar for years. I like it calendar because it has a cute picture with the phrase “Happiness is…” and then something different in the blank each month. I figure the repetition is helpful for emerging readers. The Unlikely Friends calendar is always a hit. And…well…I figured that the kids would like Harry Potter and Muscle Cars.

And I was correct. I have literally had cheers for each of the calendars.

Sometimes, friends, we do things that we wouldn’t ordinarily do simply because we know that those we love will benefit from our stepping out of comfort. May we be a people willing to try new things for the sake of good, and may we embrace the notion that if we can’t inspire them, then at least we can make them smile (through good, clean, fun).

When is the last time you did something out of the ordinary for those you love? Please share. I’d love to hear.

A Lesson In Loneliness

I read a newspaper article a few weeks ago that really made an impression on me. The headline reads, “Man found three years after his death; a lesson in loneliness,” and the article shares the story of Ronald Wayne White, a diabetic Navy vet who died “unnoticed and all but forgotten.” His rent was automatically deducted from his bank account once a month. His car was parked, untouched, in the garage.

The article reads:

“It’s disheartening that society has reached such a threshold of disconnection that (Ronald) could have no friend, no coworker, no acquaintance to even check to see if he was alive or dead…

This case reminds us that there are thousands of people among us who are in severe states of loneliness and isolation…The reality is that loneliness profoundly grips many of us…

White’s case drives home the importance of making real life connections. There should be people in our lives who can and will reach out to at least check on our well-being or at least notice when something might seem odd.

We’re more connected through social media than ever before. Experts point out that we’re processing so much information…that we’re losing our ability to think and feel. It’s hurting our personal connections and making us more distant and lonely. And the loneliness can negatively affect our health…

Let’s vow to actually pick up the phone to talk to or actually go visit someone we know instead of spending so much time on social media. Let’s make eye contact and be mindful of other people. Let’s do things with other people, be it attending religious services or going to a ball game. We need to take better care of ourselves and our neighbors.”

Friends: Let’s be loneliness fighters. No one deserves to live, or die, or feel alone.

Rock Tumbling and Gardening

Sometime last fall, I picked up a new hobby: rock tumbling. I spent about three months tumbling four batches of rocks, and I was like a kid at Christmas each time I opened the tumbler—excited to see what time and grit had done to polish what started as “ugly” rocks.

I gave each of my colleagues a rock just before Christmas. Along with the rock, I wrote:

“This gem, pulled from the earth rough and muddy but beautiful with potential, was tumbled through five steps, for at least 25 days, to obtain its smooth shine. Between each step, your gem was carefully washed and dried, inspected, and then placed back into the tumbler for further refinement. The process was long. The process was slow. But the transformation was well worth the effort when I saw just how far the gems had come from their original, raw state.

This holiday season, as you step away from work for a couple of weeks, may you find new perspective on how far you and our students have come this year. The educational process is long. The process of growth and change is difficult. It is slow. But it is working. And it is refining us into the beautiful gems we are meant to be.”

Today, I received a response from one of our administrative assistants that I thought so beautiful that I wanted to share it here. She wrote:

“I just pulled your tumbled gem inspiration out of the mailbox and read it. I totally agree with it.

I do just a little of the front landscaping at school to spruce up our entrance. I finish my 11-month job at the end of June. This year it was beastly hot when I finished my school year, beastly hot in July, and beastly hot in August, September and October. And hardly a drop of rain to help the plants. With only the promise of beauty, I hauled the water hose, rushing between phone calls, doorbells, and clerical assignments. Sometimes the water explodes in my face and splashes all over my clothes. I sometimes return to my desk looking like a sweaty, dirty, drowned rat! I was a little discouraged because the garden beds were burned to a crisp...until they weren't. But if you remember when you were our marvelous DJ for the Fall Festival, the peachy, pink Sheffield dendranthema made the front entrance shine!

That time span was only a few months. With students and people it might be a 30-year march of efforts, without an obvious pay-off. And perhaps with many frustrations and/or disappointments. But a decent human being is definitely worth all the efforts! And it DOES take a village.”

So even when it seems that life is going nowhere or your work is making no difference…keep going friends. Time and life are working in, on, with, and through you…and becoming Who you are meant to be—which is even more than a decent human being—is what life is all about.

Chunk Makers

Yesterday, my mom and I completed a 1500-piece puzzle that my brother gave my mom for Christmas. We completed the puzzle over the course of just three days, which is rather quick, but we were able to do so because the puzzle manufacturer allowed us to cheat.

Usually, when we do a puzzle, we first sort by outside pieces and either shape or picture color. We then lay out the pieces by shape, complete the outer border, and go from there.

But this puzzle had a color organization system. The backs of all of the pieces were either orange, blue, gold, yellow, or purple, so as we sorted, we sorted not by shape or picture color but by the color on the back. After we’d put together the outer edge, we then worked on one section of the puzzle at a time—thus making a seemingly impossible task of completing one 1500 piece puzzle a more reasonable task of completing five smaller puzzles of varying sizes.

Breaking the puzzle into little chunks made it less daunting and more doable.

Isn’t that how life is, friends? If we were to step back and look at our to-do lists in their entirety, then I imagine that we would become easily overwhelmed. Even when our immediate tasks are complete, we have long-term goals that often to hang over us like the clouds hanging over the earth today.

But when we break down the list into smaller chunks, it seems less daunting and more doable.

When we break down life into smaller chunks, it seems less overwhelming and more livable.

May we each be chunk-makers this year and live our lives in such a way that we are not completely overwhelmed by the complexity of its puzzle but that we are certain that its puzzle can be done one piece at a time.