There are always going to be cute kid stories when you work with 3 and 4 year old children. All day long there is SOMETHING adorable or funny going on. A few of my favorites so far:
(Aside from 3 students, the rest of my kids are Asian... and accompanied by amazing little accents)
"Miss Stephanie, you're a really great hand holder."
"Miss Stephanie, let go my hand."
"Sometimes I like to take the dinosaur and go 'GRRRR!' like this."
"We are going to have an issue if you continue this behavior." (direct quote from me earlier in the morning)
"Lay here Miss Stephanie and I do your hair. I do your nails. You want look like a boy? I can cut!" (proceeds to stand up and upon questioning, answers "I need scissors!")
"T~ is a girl because he has a ponytail."
"Your Chinese is really bad Miss Stephanie."
Yeah, I love my job :)
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Apartment
This past week has been spent in a frenzy of activity. I didn't realize how stressful and tiring a new job could be... until I realized how stressful and tired I am.
I'll write more soon about my job, I promise promise. Right now, I want to post some pictures of my apartment post-move in but pre-decorating. I'm really loving this place, and I feel really lucky to be here.
I'll write more soon about my job, I promise promise. Right now, I want to post some pictures of my apartment post-move in but pre-decorating. I'm really loving this place, and I feel really lucky to be here.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Day One
I do realize that I'm posting big events in a somewhat skewed order. However, I'm a bit too overwhelmed in my apartment right now to begin discussion on THAT topic right now. I promise promise promise that those types of posts will follow soon, as soon as I feel like things are a bit more together.
For now, I'll write about my FIRST day of school :)
Let me say first that I am crazy excited about this position. It's really the perfect combination of education and social work that I've always kind of dreamed about, as I am a teacher within a social service agency. And ohhhhh man, it's going to be a lot of work. I am literally sore from bending over all day, squatting down, and trying to fit into chairs made for three year old bodies. However, it's also going to be an amazing experience, a massive opportunity for laughter and fun and joy and happiness.
Three year olds are a blast.
For now, I'll write about my FIRST day of school :)
Let me say first that I am crazy excited about this position. It's really the perfect combination of education and social work that I've always kind of dreamed about, as I am a teacher within a social service agency. And ohhhhh man, it's going to be a lot of work. I am literally sore from bending over all day, squatting down, and trying to fit into chairs made for three year old bodies. However, it's also going to be an amazing experience, a massive opportunity for laughter and fun and joy and happiness.
Three year olds are a blast.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Move-In
It is much easier than I anticipated, this whole becoming an adult thing. Aside from the money and the job search and the load of things to buy, getting an apartment is pretty easy.
Christian and Jane remain my move-in magicians. They are the hardest working, most efficient, loveliest moving buddies imaginable. We left Blissfield rather early this morning (not as early as planned, but eh...) and got to Chicago with just one rest stop visit and minimal-ish traffic. On a side note, I don't think the I-90 stretch from Portage to the Skyway will EVER be done. We ate lunch at Hyde Park Gyro and then walked back to the apartment, met my building manager, and saw the apartment.
Wait, not THE apartment. As of 12:30pm local time on August 16, 2011... MY apartment :)
The outside of the building
I'm in an apartment right off the corner of Hyde Park Boulevard and Kimbark Avenue in this incredible neighborhood I called home for a year. Driving in today was almost magical- I felt a sense of belonging... the kind you always hope to find. My avenue is a tree-lined little street that dead-ends to the Kimbark Shopping Plaza with a fantastic produce store and a gateway to the eclectic 53rd Street businesses. It's really an ideal location; within close proximity to grocery shopping, local businesses, and public transportation.
The apartment itself is on the third floor of the building, and it's a delightful little studio with more room than I anticipated. Yeah, I'll just go ahead and put some stock pictures in...
This is the view as you walk in the front door.
View from the back corner...
My fun-sized kitchen :)
Most of what I brought today was kitchen stuff and clothing- I have to move in stages for a few reasons. One, I have a lot of stuff. Loads and loads of stuff. When my grandma Mary passed away in 2008, I was lucky enough to get all of her glassware, cookware, and utensils... basically a kitchen. Secondly, I'm moving mostly in a car...
I spent the rest of the day taking a (long) trip to the WAY north side to get fingerprinted for my new job, unpacking, and making a trip to Chinatown for supper at THE BEST Chinese place I've ever been, Moon Palace. I've not been there for a year and I swear they recognized me.
I'll post more apartment stuff tomorrow. For now I'm just feeling incredibly blessed to be in such an awesome situation. Move-in part two coming on Saturday!
Christian and Jane remain my move-in magicians. They are the hardest working, most efficient, loveliest moving buddies imaginable. We left Blissfield rather early this morning (not as early as planned, but eh...) and got to Chicago with just one rest stop visit and minimal-ish traffic. On a side note, I don't think the I-90 stretch from Portage to the Skyway will EVER be done. We ate lunch at Hyde Park Gyro and then walked back to the apartment, met my building manager, and saw the apartment.
Wait, not THE apartment. As of 12:30pm local time on August 16, 2011... MY apartment :)
The outside of the building
I'm in an apartment right off the corner of Hyde Park Boulevard and Kimbark Avenue in this incredible neighborhood I called home for a year. Driving in today was almost magical- I felt a sense of belonging... the kind you always hope to find. My avenue is a tree-lined little street that dead-ends to the Kimbark Shopping Plaza with a fantastic produce store and a gateway to the eclectic 53rd Street businesses. It's really an ideal location; within close proximity to grocery shopping, local businesses, and public transportation.
The apartment itself is on the third floor of the building, and it's a delightful little studio with more room than I anticipated. Yeah, I'll just go ahead and put some stock pictures in...
This is the view as you walk in the front door.
View from the back corner...
My fun-sized kitchen :)
Most of what I brought today was kitchen stuff and clothing- I have to move in stages for a few reasons. One, I have a lot of stuff. Loads and loads of stuff. When my grandma Mary passed away in 2008, I was lucky enough to get all of her glassware, cookware, and utensils... basically a kitchen. Secondly, I'm moving mostly in a car...
I spent the rest of the day taking a (long) trip to the WAY north side to get fingerprinted for my new job, unpacking, and making a trip to Chinatown for supper at THE BEST Chinese place I've ever been, Moon Palace. I've not been there for a year and I swear they recognized me.
I'll post more apartment stuff tomorrow. For now I'm just feeling incredibly blessed to be in such an awesome situation. Move-in part two coming on Saturday!
Monday, August 15, 2011
Explanations
One of my favorite poems was written by James Oppenheim published in 1911, and it is associated with a textile strike in Massachusetts in 1912. Here is the text of the poem:
As we come marching, marching in the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,
For the people hear us singing: "Bread and roses! Bread and roses!"
As we come marching, marching, we battle too for men,
For they are women's children, and we mother them again.
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses!
As we come marching, marching, unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient cry for bread.
Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for -- but we fight for roses, too!
As we come marching, marching, we bring the greater days.
The rising of the women means the rising of the race.
No more the drudge and idler -- ten that toil where one reposes,
But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses! Bread and roses!
Since becoming familiar with this poem in my second year of college, I have loved the sentiment it represents. I love the idea that battles should be fought for both fairness and dignity, that we should struggle against physical, mental, and emotional mistreatment.
In a way, I feel like this is a bit of a life purpose for me. I have been so incredibly blessed with a supportive environment and loving family, a great education, and natural gifts, talents and passions that allow me to experience the world in a unique way. However, I believe that these blessings are coupled with a responsibility to serve, to give back, to be a blessing in return. I want to be part of something that brings light into lives, both in physical and emotional manifestations. I want to fight for both bread and roses for my clients and their families, the little buddies in my classroom, and the community I live in.
As we come marching, marching in the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,
For the people hear us singing: "Bread and roses! Bread and roses!"
As we come marching, marching, we battle too for men,
For they are women's children, and we mother them again.
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses!
As we come marching, marching, unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient cry for bread.
Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for -- but we fight for roses, too!
As we come marching, marching, we bring the greater days.
The rising of the women means the rising of the race.
No more the drudge and idler -- ten that toil where one reposes,
But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses! Bread and roses!
Since becoming familiar with this poem in my second year of college, I have loved the sentiment it represents. I love the idea that battles should be fought for both fairness and dignity, that we should struggle against physical, mental, and emotional mistreatment.
In a way, I feel like this is a bit of a life purpose for me. I have been so incredibly blessed with a supportive environment and loving family, a great education, and natural gifts, talents and passions that allow me to experience the world in a unique way. However, I believe that these blessings are coupled with a responsibility to serve, to give back, to be a blessing in return. I want to be part of something that brings light into lives, both in physical and emotional manifestations. I want to fight for both bread and roses for my clients and their families, the little buddies in my classroom, and the community I live in.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
New Beginnings
I spent much of the last 2 months looking for a purpose. A lot of time was spent doubting, a lot of time spent hoping, and an inordinate amount of time was spent applying for jobs. It's funny how things work sometimes, and how the perfect opportunity can present itself.
There is an insane amount of change happening in my family at the moment. I am moving to Chicago to start a new job. My brother and his girlfriend will be moving back up to Northern Michigan University to start their second year of school. My youngest brother will be moving to Croatia to begin a year of exploration and travel and incredible experiences (soooo jealous). My parents will be at home in their clean house, missing their children and waiting for grandbabies. Things are moving quickly and it's all a bit overwhelming and frightening, and I realized last week that those things that keep us grounded, our "roots," are incredibly vital.
I spent two days with my very own Christy last week. She had been interning on a farm in central Indiana, learning about organic farming and sustainable growth and just how sore you can be after planting tomato plants for an entire day. She wrapped up her time there when I was visiting, and I got to watch her. I got to watch her in her element, in the place she fell in love with, in the place where she grew in so many ways. One of her final tasks was to give a presentation, and she chose to speak about Shade-Grown Coffee. (Yes, I listened!)
One of the things she talked about struck me, and I felt it seep into my consciousness and infect all of my thoughts about life. She talked about roots- the lifeblood of the plant, how they hold it to the ground and provide nourishment and a network of support. One thing she specifically talked about were lateral roots, and how they provide benefits in places where it isn't easy to have deep roots.
I think as humans (and perhaps people living in smaller communities), we tend to speak about "deep" roots. Roots that go straight down into the ground for immense distances... and in the case of people, time. Families that have lived in an area for generations, having a "deeply rooted" stake in the community- it it spoken of or thought about often.
My family doesn't have that. My parents were newcomers to my hometown, and we are all leaving. We are going abroad and up north and to the big city. We are putting down roots in communities that are not our own, places where we cannot "root deep."
However, it is my hope and prayer that our lateral roots will keep the family strong. We all remain tied to each other in a way that is simply impossible to escape, even if we were to try. For a while I was worried about starting a new life, losing my brothers to the world around us, missing my family. I've begun to realize that deeply planted roots aren't the only kind there are, and our lateral ones will provide just as much nourishment and support and strength as we need.
There is an insane amount of change happening in my family at the moment. I am moving to Chicago to start a new job. My brother and his girlfriend will be moving back up to Northern Michigan University to start their second year of school. My youngest brother will be moving to Croatia to begin a year of exploration and travel and incredible experiences (soooo jealous). My parents will be at home in their clean house, missing their children and waiting for grandbabies. Things are moving quickly and it's all a bit overwhelming and frightening, and I realized last week that those things that keep us grounded, our "roots," are incredibly vital.
I spent two days with my very own Christy last week. She had been interning on a farm in central Indiana, learning about organic farming and sustainable growth and just how sore you can be after planting tomato plants for an entire day. She wrapped up her time there when I was visiting, and I got to watch her. I got to watch her in her element, in the place she fell in love with, in the place where she grew in so many ways. One of her final tasks was to give a presentation, and she chose to speak about Shade-Grown Coffee. (Yes, I listened!)
One of the things she talked about struck me, and I felt it seep into my consciousness and infect all of my thoughts about life. She talked about roots- the lifeblood of the plant, how they hold it to the ground and provide nourishment and a network of support. One thing she specifically talked about were lateral roots, and how they provide benefits in places where it isn't easy to have deep roots.
I think as humans (and perhaps people living in smaller communities), we tend to speak about "deep" roots. Roots that go straight down into the ground for immense distances... and in the case of people, time. Families that have lived in an area for generations, having a "deeply rooted" stake in the community- it it spoken of or thought about often.
My family doesn't have that. My parents were newcomers to my hometown, and we are all leaving. We are going abroad and up north and to the big city. We are putting down roots in communities that are not our own, places where we cannot "root deep."
However, it is my hope and prayer that our lateral roots will keep the family strong. We all remain tied to each other in a way that is simply impossible to escape, even if we were to try. For a while I was worried about starting a new life, losing my brothers to the world around us, missing my family. I've begun to realize that deeply planted roots aren't the only kind there are, and our lateral ones will provide just as much nourishment and support and strength as we need.
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