powerless

He sat hunched against the wall in my office, sweatshirt pulled up to cover his face.  He'd been in more or less the same position for hours now.  I wondered what to do.  He didn't want to talk to me and tell me what was wrong, he wouldn't eat lunch, he wouldn't write how he felt, he wouldn't even shake his head to respond to yes or no questions.  Nothing I could say or do would convince him to let down his guard.

My heart ached.  What do you do when a child won't let you help them?  How do you break through walls of silence?  How do you mediate when you don't even know what the problem is?

And so, powerless to change anything, I prayed to the only one who knows the heart of silence, the one for whom nothing is impossible.

which side up?

Today was my first day back after vacation.  I came in to a desk that looked suspiciously like this:

The two weeks preceding vacation were a hectic whirlwind of activities.  We had fun, the kids had fun, and NOTHING administrative got done except sending out permission slips.   

Our 2 weeks of in-school vacation didn't start off too well.  We had a field trip to the park planned.  It rained.  Fortunately for me, I have an amazing staff, and one of them led some indoor games with the kids, then as the kids insisted that the rain had stopped, we headed off into the drizzle.  The sun came out for a bit, the kids had fun, and it didn't rain enough to get us soaked.  We were a sight to see when we pulled out 20 matching bright orange ponchos and walked back to the school through the drizzle in the afternoon.

 The fun continued on Wednesday with a presentation from a juggler and some mad scientists.

 The kids weren't the only ones fascinated.  I wanted to get in on the fun with the awesome bubbles made from dry ice, hot water, and soap.

 Thursday was my birthday, and since I'm the academic director and can pull some strings with the scheduling, we had the best field trip of all.  ;)  We headed to a town an hour or three outside of Bogotá, depending on the traffic.  In the middle of the country side, surrounded by hills and meadows, it's a peaceful contrast to the constant traffic and pollution of Bogotá.  Even one of my 12 year old students commented on it.  "The teachers can really rest here" he told me.

The main attraction was the blessedly heated swimming pool.  It was almost as good as stepping into bath water. I repeatedly counted heads.  1, 2, 3, . . . . 18, 19.... wait, where's 20?  Was my mantra, over and over again.  

 When I took a break from counting heads, I went to photograph the flowers.  There were some lovely ones.

 Apparently, giving kids a couple of hours of pool time is a good way to tire them out.  Pretty much the whole bus looked like this on the way back.  Which, was a really good thing since the ride back was at least 3 hours, half of which was stuck sitting in traffic right as we entered Bogotá.

Friday we all showed up tired, but the fun wasn't over.  We had a different group of scientific clowns come for a program.  They had us all laughing and afraid to touch their electric globe.

The next week I mostly forgot to bring my camera to work.  It started out well with a puppet show and plans for a group from Venezuela to be in charge of the activities for the rest of the week.  My peace of mind was shattered when I got a phone call mid-morning.  "Annie, you know the Venezuelans who were coming?  The ones who were planning activities for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday?  Yeah, they're not coming after all".  We had just a few hours to come up with 3 days worth of fun activities for 20 high energy kids between the ages of 6 and 15.  And we had a budget of "oh wait there's no food for breakfast, can any teachers pitch in and help today?" As I think I've already mentioned, I have an amazing staff.  And also, awesome friends.  Becka suggested salt dough for the next day.  A quick call to Edwin and we had a field trip to the jungle set up for Thursday.  Another quick call to Alex and he was willing to drive the bus to the park on Friday.  And, another phone call or 2 and our budget was suddenly expanded to $75, which is a quite a bit better than $0.

So, Wednesday we made, baked, and painted salt dough statues, played at the play ground, and watched a movie.  Thursday we played at the jungle and made kites.  Then, Friday, all the fixings for a picnic lunch packed, we headed to the Simon Bolivar Park, a giant park that almost makes you feel like you've left the city.  The kids tried to fly their kites they'd made the day before, buried themselves in sand, climbed all over the jungle gym equipment, and, because it wouldn't be Bogotá if it didn't rain, we had to look for some sort of shelter to make our bologna and cheese sandwiches in and pass out chips and bananas.  After lunch, with the weather cleared up again, we headed off around the lake to the boat rental.  Just as we got all the kids into life jackets and were working on pairing us students unlikely to try throwing each other over board, it started pouring.  We dashed under cover into the boathouse.  It rained.  It poured.  It drizzled.  It started raining again.  Finally we decided to venture out into the drizzle.  We loaded 19 kids and 9 adults into 7 rowboats and set off across the lake.  Or, maybe more accurately put, started slowly turning in circles on the lake.  The kids might not have been very good at steering, or even going in a straight line for that matter, but they had a blast.

So, between those 2 whirlwind weeks and a week enjoying the historic city and beaches of Cartagena, is it any wonder that I'm still trying to figure out which side is up back at work?

What they don't teach you in Spanish class

Ingrid was locking up Luz y Vida while I sat on the stoop waiting for her.  "Annie, the alarm won't set" she called out.  I wasn't worried, it had happened before, usually shutting the door again took care of it. But no, we both tried, multiple times, and we couldn't activate the alarm.  

I called the customer service number and was told to make sure all the motion sensors on the third floor were working.  Check.  Back to the phone.  "Push the following buttons on the alarm panel".  I couldn't quite reach from the phone, so I told Ingrid what to push.  All was going well until I leaned over to see which lights were lit up on the panel, and disconnected the phone from the wall.  

The other phone in the kitchen started ringing, the technician calling me back.  I ran over to answer and proceeded to shout commands to Ingrid. "Push asterisks twice.  Ok, now the pound sign"  Nothing seemed to be working.  "Maybe you're entering your activation code wrong." the tech suggested.  I've only been entering the same code at least 5 times a week since February first.  "It's not wrong" I told him.  "Ok, then press and hold P" he responded.  The alarm went off.  Loud.  "All right, now put in the activation code" he told me.  "Ingrid!  The activation code!" I shouted.  The alarm kept going off.  "See, you are using the wrong code" he sounded smug.  Becka peeked around the door.  "what did you say?  Ingrid couldn't hear you over the alarm".  A blessed silence descended again.  "It was right." I told him (see, I told you, I thought).  

Finally, he realized the reason he wasn't getting any results to the tests he'd run was that the landline we were using was the same line tests should be run through.  He got my cell number, and I could stand right in front of the panel.  Push these buttons.  Check.  Run up to the 3rd floor and look at the sensors again.  Check. Push some more buttons.  Check.  All right, 3rd floor is deactivated, the rest of the alarms should be working, we'll send out someone to see what the problem is tomorrow.  Name please?  I sighed.  I already knew what was going to happen. I spelled my last name.  Slowly.  Then I spelled it again.  Yes, it has a k in it.  Yes, s then l.  S, yes.  S, like sun.  Yes, two e's in a row.  (I think to myself, Yes, I am a foreigner.  That is why you have no idea what to do with my name.  I KNOW it's not normal, but please, work with me on this one.  Just write the letters as I tell you.  I do know how to spell my last name.   Why have I not married a Colombian and changed my last name already?  It would save me a lot of trouble. . .)  My last name finally confirmed, I walked towards the door to lock it and close it behind me.  One second too late.  The alarm began to sound.  It took me too long confirming my name on the phone and the alarm was already active when I walked past it.  

I sighed, unlocked the door, walked back inside, dialed the number again.  With barely disguised impatience, the technician said, "I told you if the alarm "dispare" again, you could just ignore it, it would go off by itself."  Wearily, I realize that the word disparar, that I'm familiar with meaning to shoot a gun, means to go off, in this context.  Oh yes, he had mentioned that.  I overlooked it.  Oh well.  We walked through the code process again, at which point I somehow managed to unplug the phone from the wall again.  He, fortunately, called my cell.  I finally set the alarm, walked out of the building and locked the door and both gates behind us.

Forty five minutes later, problem solved.

(not so) Ordinary chaos

As they always seem to whenever I walk in the door, a million things greeted me at once.  When I finally managed to slip upstairs to print out tests for Julian, it seemed like things were going smoothly- the computer was on, the printer connected, pages even started to print.  I breathed a sigh of relief, went to open the last document and tell it to print when there was a sudden pop and hiss sound.  The computer went dead.  The printer stopped working.  And then, I looked down.  The cord connecting the surge protector to the outlet was on fire.  Sparks were spitting everywhere.  I looked at it, frozen in indecision.  The flame looked too large to just stomp out, besides, stomping on a sparking electrical cord didn't seem like the brightest decision.  I looked around- I think you're supposed to smother electrical fires, right? I thought to myself.  There was nothing around that seemed too helpful- newspapers, Fabian's sweatshirt (ok, as a last resort, but the fire wasn't spreading yet).  I looked anxiously at the wood floor.  I better figure out something, and soon.  I ran downstairs and burst into a classroom, "You're not supposed to put out an electrical fire with water, right?" I asked breathlessly.  Ana Yivi and Julian looked up, concerned.  "There's a fire upstairs!  Will you help Julian?" I asked.  "Use the yellow fire extinguisher" suggested Ana Yivi.  I dashed downstairs, grabbed the fire extinguisher, and headed back upstairs.  It must have almost burnt itself out in the meantime, because Julian told me he blew it out.  It was definitely bigger than blowing out size when I ran downstairs.

**********

The internet had been on again off again, so we called the internet provider.  They came and fiddled around, supposedly "fixed" things, but I soon realized that while the wireless network was working better, the internet was now completely non-functioning on my office computer.  It was Wednesday, Juan, who helps with all our tech problems, was already on the way out the door.  He only comes once a week.  The next Wednesday rolled around.  Juan fiddled with my computer between classes.  He got the internet back up and running, and then decided to upgrade my CPU, switching it for a better one in the computer room.  He finished up as I was leaving for the day.  Thursday, my computer wouldn't turn on.  It still won't start a week later, and he isn't able to come tomorrow.  No computer, no internet... it's hard to get my work done when I can't even access my documents.

**********

I've been trying to get one of my student's parents to come in for weeks.  She never came back after she enrolled him to finish filling out paperwork, and we've been having disciplinary issues, so we really needed to meet.  I finally did what I hate to do- set an ultimatum: Come to school on Tuesday or your son will not be able to come to school on Wednesday.  Her appointment at 10 came and went and she never showed up.  I was busy and lost track of time, and then had to sub a class.  I called when the class was over.  No answer.  Finally, sometime after lunch, she called me back.  "You had an appointment at the school", I reminded her.  "I'm just wondering what happened".  "Oh, I'm on my way," she told me.  Two hours passed and she still hadn't shown up.  I rang the bell to dismiss students and tried calling her one last time.  "I'll be right there!" She told me.  "You need to be here in 10 minutes, or I may have already left", I told her.  Finally, 5 hours after her scheduled appointment, she appeared.  At least we got to talk, and I can let her son come to school tomorrow.  

**********

"Katrina's on the phone for you, Annie", Lilia told me.  She was calling to let me know that the Former Colombian Interior Minister was targeted in a car bomb attack and that I should let the staff know that they should take extra precautions and make sure they told someone where they were going and when they expected to be back.  Around the same time Ana Yivi came in to let me know pretty much the same thing.  I called the school where our continuing ed students go and asked them to please tell the children to take a bus on the septima, and not the transmilenio, since the car bomb had gone off on the Caracas, the same route the transmilenio takes.  When everyone was together for lunch, I let all the staff know they should take extra precautions and encouraged the children to go straight home after school and stay away from the Caracas.

**********

These past few weeks have been a bit crazier than usual, though there's always something going on. Maybe it does help to explain why I've been overwhelmed and stressed lately though.  Fires, bombings,   not being able to get my work done when I am at work.  Hmm, I guess that might explain it. 

The smallest gifts

Today we celebrate women's day in Colombia. One of our new students walked in this morning, her smile beaming above a handful of minature roses. She carefully handed a single tiny rose to every woman who works at Luz y Vida. "Feliz Día"(Happy women´s day!) she said to me as she gave me a hug. I lifted the little rose to my nose and breathed in. The scent from that tiny rose was amazing, transporting me to a summer full of sunshine. In a week that's been challenging for me, her offering of love brought me joy.

As I looked at the rose on my desk, not much bigger than a quarter, I was reminded of something God spoke to my heart earlier this week. Our gifts of love to him may seem small and insignificant, unworthy of being offered to the creator of the universe, but he is still pleased. He is pleased with each small outpouring of love from a faithful heart. He doesn't compare us with one another and only feel pleased with the best gifts. As our Father, any gift prompted by our love brings him pleasure.

So, remember today- You are loved by the Father. He's not waiting until you are perfect and can offer perfect gifts to be pleased by you. He is pleased today. He delights in you and the gifts you bring to him.

Phillipians 4:18b Your gifts are a soothing aroma, a sacrifice that God accepts and with which he is pleased.

Isaiah 62:4b But you will be named My Delight, and your land will be named Married. The LORD is delighted with you, and your land will be married.

looking for hope in the dark

Tuesday, I wanted to give up. I am surrounded by hopelessness. Every morning, I walk to work, past 9 or 11 or 14 homeless men, huddled under tarps or blankets, sometimes a bare foot sticking out, making me wonder how they have the will power to keep moving, keep struggling to survive. Prostitutes standing in doorways have just become routine; I happen to notice they’re less provocatively dressed on a chilly, rainy Sunday afternoon. Half a block away from my house a couple approach me, 3-year-old son trailing behind. There’s a joint in the dad’s hand, he passes it to the boy’s mother as I walk past them, hurrying to escape the overwhelming smell of marijuana.

At work, I open an email, from some organization fighting poverty somewhere. “What’s the best way to fight poverty?” the subject line asks. Inside, they ever-so-optimistically proclaim, “provide education” and go on to encourage you to sponsor a child. And I wonder why they make it sound so easy. It isn’t enough to send a kid to school, teach them to read. My kids are all learning to read. They’re adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing. But I’m discouraged. One family, with 9 children, rents 2 small rooms daily. One room is as wide as a single bed. The parents and 3 youngest children sleep there. The other 6 kids share the other room, mattresses on a floor. Absences are frequent as the bigger kids stay home to help with the littler ones as their parents run errands, trying to make a better life for their family. Even the oldest, who seems most motivated to succeed, is falling behind in school work.

My students fight, argue with their teachers, complain about everything and anything, and don’t show any desire to change. The kids who were doing well last year, the ones we sent to normal schools, are almost all doing poorly, failing classes, missing days. The kids we decided we needed to work with more are making progress academically, but their hearts seem untouched. Sometimes behaviors even seem worse.

I feel overwhelmed. If their heart attitudes don’t change, if they don’t long to seek Jesus, if they stay in the same environment, education won’t do much for them. And I start to question everything- the hours and hours, the prayers and tears, the creative examples and book shopping, all for what? So they can throw it all away, live a religious but faithless life, selling things from a cart on the side of the street, having 5 kids with 4 different men by the time they’re 25, renting a room by the day? Can we really make a difference?

Where is God in all this? I really don’t believe he made this world and now will just let it run its course. I believe in divine intervention. But I’m not seeing it, here and now, in the lives of these kids. And I’m discouraged. Why don’t I have stories to tell about lives given to Christ, whole families being changed by the power of God at work? Why is it an uphill battle? Why do I see so little success, and so much of what fails like failure? Why does it all have to be so hard?

****************

Circumstances haven't changed. But hope creeps back in. Words in an email from my mom, "While we may seem to be failing--perhaps we are planting and watering where someone else will reap." A conversation with a friend about children who grow up in the church and leave, but come back to Christ later, "that was me" he said. And God's word, spoken in Isaiah 42 “I have held My peace a long time, I have been still and restrained Myself. Now I will cry like a woman in labor, I will pant and gasp at once. I will lay waste the mountains and hills, And dry up all their vegetation; I will make the rivers coastlands, And I will dry up the pools. I will bring the blind by a way they did not know; I will lead them in paths they have not known. I will make darkness light before them, And crooked places straight. These things I will do for them, And not forsake them."

We don't always see God at work, but that doesn't mean he isn't working. God might be still and restrain himself for a time, but he won't forsake us. He called me here. His reasons for that haven't changed. I can never love more than Him.

So, I keep on, praying for more faith in a loving God in the dark.

a random collection of thoughts

My blog has been neglected this month. I compose in my head, but nothing ever makes it to paper, or I suppose, the computer screen. So here, in no particular order, are some thoughts and happenings from the past few weeks.

I went to an all day workshop, part of which was about personality types. I am a task oriented person. I realized something about myself and my job at Luz y Vida. When I am completing tasks like putting together a modified schedule for a week with changes, or working on a reading curriculum, I feel productive and accomplished. I am working towards completing my end of year goals. When I am doing a people oriented job- talking with a child who's having a rough time, listening to a teacher who is looking for a better solution in the classroom, although I know that what I am doing in the moment is important, and I enjoy it, I feel less productive. I can't cross anything off my list, I'm not reaching those year long goals. I wonder how I learn to value more my people-oriented moments and not feel like they are somehow less valid.

I love cooking for and with people- having friends over for soup and salad last Saturday night before going to see a play, making pizza at a friends house on Thursday, making pancakes for breakfast for my housemate and a friend who spent the night yesterday morning. I love the moments spent together in the kitchen, and the talk and laughter around the table. And food, I love to eat too. :)

My cat is getting better. Her scabs are almost gone, she unfortunately lost most of her hair when they scabs fell off, but it's growing back in. She looks a bit like a tiny jackal.

I added "the final touches" to my bedroom over the past month- a desk, a rug for the floor, pictures on the walls.

My 4th and 5th graders finished reading their 4th chapter book. They did horribly on their test, and I realized I never taught them how to study. We spent an hour going over some basic study skills and making flash cards, and when they did a retest, their grades improved substantially.

I love this city. I love 50 cent snacks, knowing how to get around by bus, knowing which section of the city to go to buy office supplies, appliances, shoes. . . I love the hustle and bustle downtown, the quiet, quirky, gritty, or trendy neighborhoods that change their feel every few blocks.

Working with at-risk kids is heart breaking.

I dream and I plan, but I have no idea what I want to be "when I grow up".

And, I'll be home for Christmas!

Walking to Baranquilla

Before we left for vacation, we finished reading the 2nd chapter book for this school year. As the kids walked in on Tuesday and spotted the new book (Robin Hood!) they squealed with delight. "Let us see it", they pleaded. They eagerly looked through, reading chapter headings, exclaiming over pictures. We worked on some background the first day, talking about the history of the times of Robin Hood, sharing what they knew about legends. Apparently Colombia has a much richer oral tradition of legends than in the States. Between 3 girls, in the space of about 5 minutes, they came up with a list of 15 legends. They were amazed when I confessed I had no idea who "Patasola" was. "She's from Baranquilla", they explained, "and she only has one leg". I explained to them how legends, since they begin as stories that are told from person to person, don't always travel as far as stories that are in print and that the distance from Baranquilla, Colombia to Pennsylvania, USA is really far. "How long would it take to get there?" one of them asks. "One day traveling by plane, about 7 hours flying" I say. "No, what if you were walking?" I explained that the Panama canal and unsafe conditions made that impossible, but estimated it would probably take 9 months to walk it if you could walk. They were suitably impressed. Their disappointment was vocal when class ended for lunch time and we hadn't started reading the story. The next day, they didn't want to stop when they got to the end of the chapter.

I LOVE how excited they've gotten about reading. They told me the other week that reading the book was their favorite part of Spanish class. Seeing as this is the same group of students who at the beginning of the year whined, "we're reading a book AGAIN" after a couple of weeks of class, I find it even more encouraging. They still struggle with comprehension. Fluency is still a challenge. Their writing still lacks punctuation and capitalization and spelling is capricious. But, they are learning to love to read. They are finding adventures in books. And that, I think, is one of the most important parts of becoming an independent reader and learner.

Letting go. . .

My first graders have a teacher again. Two teachers, to be exact. Rae Ann (my new house mate too!) will be with them full time, and Claudia, a girl we met at the YWAM retreat, will be with them til lunch every day. I'm so happy for the kids, to finally have some stability. I'm happy for me, to be able to focus on my responsiblities as academic director and not be so divided anymore. But, letting go is hard! I've spent so much time with the first graders over the last 3 months. I have been the most consistent teacher for them, and they see me as their authority and love and respect me. They need to start to see Rae Ann and Claudia that way too. So, instead of sitting with them at breakfast and lunch, as I've been doing, I leave them with Rae Ann and Claudia. The kids come up to me, "can I use the bathroom?" "He said.... She did....". I say, "there are 2 teachers sitting at your table, go talk to them. Or, sitting across the room, I hear something or see something that should really be corrected. "back off", I tell myself. "Let them take care of it. They need to establish themselves as the authorities, and the kids need to see them that way". How many times will I need to say that to myself before the urge to step in goes away?

West Shore SixTen team visit

A group of 7 from my fellowship group at church came down this past week. We had a lot of fun together. They put together an amazing program for the kids at Luz y Vida- from gak and tie-dying, to minute-to-win-it games, Bible teaching centered around Noah's ark, "compliment" books for everyone, and balloon games, the kids enjoyed every minute. I think the team did too.

Outside of Luz y Vida we had a lot of fun too. Tuesday was my birthday and we celebrated Colombian style- food, conversation and dancing! Despite the fact that most of the team hadn't danced salsa and merengue before, they gave it a try and we all had a lot of tun. Having friends who love to cook and are studying at cooking school guarantees amazing birthday dinners, as the pictures prove.

Wednesday the team came to my house. I was so blessed by their willingness to help out. The girls painted the second coat of paint in my garage area, and then did some deep cleaning in my kitchen and bathrooms. Things got a bit complicated for the guys when we lost all of the pieces needed to assemble the medicine cabinet I bought, but even so, they managed to hang curtain rods, fix the overhead lighting in one room, assemble and install a medicine cabinet, put a toilet seat and a towel rod in my downstairs bathroom and spend a lot of time at Home Center, learning the word for drill bit and saw in Spanish, and tracking down missing pieces. I made dinner for the team with the help from the girls. It wasn't quite the masterpiece we had on my birthday, but it was pretty tasty too.

Yesterday I think I wore the team out. We went to the jungle in the morning and enjoyed playing with over a hundred kids, helping them with crafts, and keeping them safe. As soon as we finished there, we took a driving tour through the tolerance zone and the Bronx to see some of the conditions the children we work with come from and live in. From there, we drove up to the farm, where I led the whole team up hill through the rain, bushwhacking through bushes and brambles, and up a very steep incline for the awesome view of the Andes mountains. We got back, soaking wet, freezing, and ready to enjoy the aromatica (fresh herbal tea) that Bibi and Emily made for us.

The team left this morning. They'll be missed, and remembered. They also blessed us greatly with a donation of a k-3 guided reading curriculum. I'm so excited to train teachers how to use it and see kids reading books they'll be excited about!

Sex Ed 101

Today, I'm sitting around with the first graders, watching them put their number tiles in order, and not paying too close attention to the chatter all around me. Something though, jumps out at me, "and then they took their pants off in the tree and they were making love". The rest of my math lesson plan was abandoned as I tried to figure out exactly what had happened and how to deal with it.

We talked about how there are certain body parts we don't show to anyone, nor do we ask anyone to show them to us. I told them that if anyone tries to touch or look at those body parts, or they see any children doing that, then they need to tell a teacher right away. We talked about how there are some things kids can do by themselves (like playing and coloring), some things they need a grown up to help with (crossing the road and cooking) and some things they can't do at all (driving a car and well, making love) and how those limits are there to keep them safe.

That was not a lesson I had planned on teaching today. I'm still trying to figure out how to teach VERY sexually aware first graders what is and isn't appropriate behavior in a way that is age appropriate, but acknowledges they know way more than I did at their age. Any suggestions?

moneky man

Out on the playground the other day, D climbed the jungle gym. “Wow, you’re really fast”, I told him. “You’re like a little monkey”. “That’s cause I’m half monkey” he told me. “This half of me is monkey” (he draws a line vertically down his body) “and the other half is human. I wear a costume on this side. That way people don’t know I’m a monkey and I can go to school”

The heart of it all

I've been learning some things this year. Most of all about the importance of the unseen. For several days my students had been leaving out a student who was formerly quite well liked. In devotion one morning, she didn't want to pray, sat there with a sad face, far away from the other students, and barely joined in the singing. When I asked what was wrong, she told me nothing.

I tried to get to the root of the problem and as I asked the other students what was going on, I started to see what was wrong. Apparently her brother had hit 2 other students and then made up a story that other students from the school had come to his house to threaten him and his family. All the students from their neighborhood had divided into 2 groups- us against them. It didn't matter that she hadn't done anything, she was part of his family and therefore an enemy.

I spent the whole devotional time talking about forgiveness and love and made no headway. They were still determined to not forgive her, not include her, and not acknowledge that what they were doing did not please God.

After breakfast I gathered all the 1st and 2nd grade students together. I felt almost hopeless, their hearts seemed so hard. And yet, I couldn't just ignore the problem. It was causing such a spirit of division among all my students and reading seemed so much less important in comparison. So, I started our time together by praying. I invited the Holy Spirit to come and be present in our time, to speak directly to the students' hearts. As we started to talk, I didn't address the problem directly. I just shared about how Jesus suffered and died for us, and as he died asked God to forgive those who were torturing and killing him. Everyone was silent and thoughtful as I spoke, which is unusual for this group of students. At the end, I asked if they thought that God also wanted them to forgive the people who hurt them. They all agreed that he did. Then I asked if they were willing to forgive. That's where I really saw the Spirit of God at work. All of my formally belligerent students said they were willing to forgive. Each one of them looked their classmates in the eyes and if they felt there was something they had to forgive they said to the other student, ''I forgive you''.

Since that day, we've still had problems. They still fight, they still struggle to forgive. But I saw something that gave me the courage to keep going in spite of what sometimes looks like a hopeless situation. God spoke to them. I don't think it was my words that made the difference. I don't think it was me that caused them to listen so intently. I invited the Holy Spirit to speak to their hearts and he did. And He is the one who needs to continue to change them. I might be able to modify their outward actions (although sometimes I even doubt that), but only God can change their hearts. My job is to sow seeds and water them and trust God to bear fruit, even on days when it looks like a losing battle.

cupcakes

When I don't need to be strong

I was upstairs, doing some prep-work for my classes during my free period when I heard screams from downstairs. I went down to see if the teacher handling the situation needed an extra set of hands or someone to watch his students, but there was someone else already there. And, as I looked on as one of my students screamed in anger, struggling to get away from the teacher restraining him, and mumbling threats against another student, I broke down.

Usually, kids seem to explode in my class, and I'm the one with my arms wrapped around a little body, trying to speak calming words, reasoning words, and to stay far enough away from walls and chairs that they can't kick them. I have to be strong. I have to be calm.

But this day, someone else had it under control, and I didn't have to be strong. And seeing the rage that has a deep root that I don't even understand, my heart broke for my usually sweet little boy. There was nothing I could do, but pray. So I did. As I fought back tears, I sat half way up the stairs, praying for him and the anger that's so deep in his heart.

I don't know what to do. I don't even know how to deal with the surface issue of fighting, but the heart issues are much deeper. There's a deep hurt below the surface. So, I pray. Pray for wisdom and pray for the Holy Spirit to work in the hearts of my students. He's the only one who really knows what s going on in their hearts, and the only one who can change them from the inside out.

Innocence

One of my students sat on the park bench with me during recess, playing with my scarf. "Are you gay?" she asked, but with a note of confidence in her voice, as if she knew the answer. I was a bit confused where that question had come from and she repeated it. She repeated it once more, but the last time as a statement, instead of a question, and then, in all her 8 year old wisdom, she told me how she knew: "you like men."

Hoy es.... VIERNES!

Two things that brightened my day today:

Watching my students play soccer against the high school and older boys in the park. Sebas is an awesome goalie and blocked what looked like were sure to be goals. And then, my little guys scored against the big guys.

Making play-doh with the 1st and 2nd graders. Their enthusiasm to dump flour and salt in a bowl and stir, their faces when they sneaked a taste and realized just how much salt it had in it, their excitement that we used kool-aid to dye it (I haven't found food coloring here yet and kool-aid is cheap, efective, and has the added bonus of smelling good). Moments like those make me love what I do.

A much better day

Today was much better. No fights, laughter and smiles, a prize won, and my first time teaching the 3rd and 4th grade group. I loved teaching them- we're starting a once a week English class- and they loved playing Bingo with the letters of the alphabet in English.

And, tomorrow is Friday. :)

One of those days

Today was one of those days. It started with a 40 minute walk with a heavy bag of dirt in my backpack. When I walked into my first class of the day and 2 children were hiding behind the door, one had climbed up behind the chalkboard, and another plugged in the piano and started to play, I knew I had my work cut out for me. I managed to get them all back on task, participating, and even having fun. I thought maybe I'd made it safely, when one child exploded because of something another child said. I spent the last 20 minutes of class in the hall, trying to calm that child down and restraining him from going back into class to beat up the kid he was mad at. He finally calmed down enough to follow directions and stayed with another teacher for awhile working until he was able to be in the same classroom as the other student without fighting.

The rest of the day was uneventful, until the last class of the day. It was beautiful and sunny, and we were planting seeds for science class, so I decided to take them outside. Everyone was happy and excited. We went back inside to stick half our plants in the dark and half our plants in the sun for a plant growth experiment, and then I sat them down to read a short book about plants. Two children wouldn't stop insulting each other from across the room while I read. When I spoke to one of them, he agreed to stay in the classroom quietly rather than leave. The other student wouldn't agree to leaving the class or to being quiet in class, so he lost the privilege of taking his plant home with him. He got mad and threw another plant across the room, leaving potting soil streaking the walls and the bulletin board that I just changed yesterday. Another teacher very kindly stayed to supervise as he cleaned the mess he made and I took the other kids to the park for the last 15 minutes of the day until the bus came.

As I walked back home today, I felt so weary and discouraged. The thought of going back tomorrow to work with the same students and quite possibly face the same sort of behavior problems was overwhelming.

And then, I opened my e-mail and saw this

It doesn't matter how bad your day was,

just keep walking with your head up like nothing happened.

Tomorrow's a new day!

And then, talking to a friend, she reminded me that, "you don't have to be ready, just willing and God can use that and prosper that. His grace is enough and he brings new mercies each day!"

Good thing tomorrow is a new day and that God's mercy is new every morning. Hopefully tomorrow will be a different sort of day, but even if it isn't, God will give me the strength I need to get through it, and three months from now, when things are overwhelming and I look back on this day, I'll realize how far I've come, and how far my students have come. Because, the truth is, it's the first time in months that my students have hidden before class, and it used to be an almost daily occurrence. That, despite the fact that I wasn't in the room with my students while I was in the hall working with my angry kiddo , they still did as I asked them too and played a phonics game. That, even when one student's plant was thrown against the wall, he didn't react in anger. That I received apologies today from 3 students whose behavior was not what it should have been. So, even when I'm overwhelmed, I can look and see progress. And I know they will continue to progress.

The trouble with vowels

If the language we learned first doesn't discriminate between 2 vowels that exist separately in another language, it can lead to some awkward mispronunciations. The difference between the long e sound and the short i sound is hard for a lot of non-native English speakers. I have more than one latino friend who has told me about their weekend at the bitch. And my proper and well-educated professor from Korea always made me giggle inside each time she told us to take out a shit of paper.

For me, there's very little difference in sound between e and ei in Spanish. So these 2 words, for example, sound almost identical to me: peine=comb pene=penis

The other day, I was reading aloud a story to my first and second graders. In the story, the man brings home a comb to give to his wife as a gift. When I read that, I got some startled looks. "A WHAT?!" asked one little girl. "One of these" I answered, chagrined, pointing to the picture. After that, any time the word comb appeared in the story, I substituted the word brush.

Did I really say what I think I did? Guess what word I'm cutting out of my vocabulary in Spanish.