Uncategorized – Mrs. G. Wiz

Fall Harvest

The bounty of food our plants provide amazes me. Each fall, I am overwhelmed by the sight of farm lands, orchards, and gardens reaching the end of a season. Juicy, sweet apples bloom from wood branches, small kernels become corn stalks, and delicate vines grow large pumpkins. A harvest is the result of hard work, favorable weather, and a little luck. In short, you reap what you sow.

While harvesting vegetables and fruits has a particular season, I also harvest the fruits of my labor throughout the year. I work in education, providing training and support to teachers. I see the result of this work in a million small ways all year, typically through the stories teachers share about their students. Teachers also reap their rewards in the form of smiles, hugs, lightbulb moments, and thank yous. They collect these treasures in their heart, and it is the reward of the work that generates the seeds for the next year.

Our actions and words are our seeds, and we will harvest what we plant, water, feed, and nurture. When we drop seeds of hope, hope sprouts all around us. When we drop seeds of doubt, we are surrounded by doubt.

Ultimately, we are the creators of our garden of life. We can make it as colorful, rich, and healthy as we choose. We can also grow a garden of weeds, ivy, and thorns. If you don’t like your garden, take the time to weed and cultivate it. Cut out the branches that hide the light, pull the spiny thorny weeds from the root, and plant what you want to see grow. It is hard work. It is often messy work.

Ultimately, I can only harvest what I grow.

In times when the world is stressed, I choose to grow hope, love, compassion, empathy, and patience. I am supporting these delicate plants with my trellis of knowledge and stakes of conviction. Weeds do some up, and it is my job to continue evaluating and protecting my plants. When the sun has been hidden for too long, I need to shine my own light. When the rain doesn’t go away, I need to protect them, covering them until the rain stops. Some plants will grow faster than I expected, while others will lag. Both will be beautiful and worth the work.

Oxygen

School is starting. It is a time of anticipation and excitement with a touch of anxiety and trepidation.

One of the best things about school is that there is a new start every year. As an adult, I miss the feeling of a “fresh start” that comes at the beginning of every year. There is a gift that comes with the excitement of starting something. As I meet teachers getting ready for a new year, I am struck by the energy they each emit. It is as though they are lit from within.

That bright light attracts their students to them like a moth to a flame. The light points and directs the learning as a lighthouse directs a seacraft through a difficult reef.

But I have also seen the effects of political pressure, negative press, parental stress, and tireless work. The light we see at this time of year will begin to dim, and flicker, and in some devastating moments, it will be extinguished.

When there is no light, there is nothing to illuminate, direct, and energize learning.

Teachers don’t want their light to fade. But as they worked on behalf of their students, they forgot to fuel themselves. Teachers need to stop and ensure they feed oxygen to their internal flame. For some, oxygen comes from daily exercise. For others, it is an opportunity to learn. And for others, it is time with friends and loved ones. No matter how they fill their energy, they need to ensure it happens regularly and often, or the flame suffocates and eventually burns out.

Another way to think about this is the image of the flight attendant telling you that in an emergency, you need to grab the oxygen mask and put it firmly on your face.

Our teachers need oxygen masks, firmly in place, to maintain the energy and excitement of the new year each school day for the next 36-40 weeks.

The same is true for students. What fills up the students’ oxygen tank to feed the flame inside them? How do we keep students glowing with energy and excitement?

Looking Forward

Last week I felt anxious and my heart kept racing. I realized it was because of the feeling and reports of uncertainty in the news and on social media. So, I turned it off and focused on planning my day. Within two days I felt more in control and ready to make plans for a whole week.

I am lucky, this feeling only lasted a few days for me. Uncertainty is common for parents, sneaking up at unexpected moments. For parents of students with disabilities, uncertainty can become overwhelming. The IEP process asks parents what their long- and short-term goals are for their child. They are asked about the best strategies, reinforcers, and goal ideas.

How can a parent be expected to see into the future? The future is the only thing a person can change. We can not change the past.

Looking forward one can see possibilities rather than regrets, doubts, or ghosts of the past. Taking a step forward is scary, but a start. Sometimes we do not see the destination, but we can see the path we are on.

In the moments of uncertainty, I hope you can lift your head, look forward, and take a step. And for those on a path that is not serving them, choose a new track.