River of Tears

 I read these words from Nikita Gill today:

Ghosts of the person you used to be

are so proud of who you are

they live on inside you applauding you

for living on despite your scars

And then I cried a river of tears.

It’s my process.

All the years and all the challenges have brought me to the greatest one yet. It has happened before…I find myself on an entirely different road than I planned on walking and, unlike Robert Frost, there is no choice of direction. It has been chosen for me, and all I can do is draw on every inner resource I’ve ever discovered before, the ways I have found to rise above present circumstances and hold on to what matters: Love. Gentleness . Leaning on others. A light from inside and the one shining above.

And I know when I come out on the other side of this, I will not be the person I used to be.

This song by Jimmy Buffett was already my chosen song for the year. Music can heal and remind us of  what we need to know. There probably hasn’t been a better one than “Bubbles Up.”

Bubbles up
They will point you towards home
No matter how deep or how far you roam
They will show you the surface, the plot and the purpose
So, when the journey gets long
Just know that you are loved
There is light up above
And the joy is always enough
Bubbles up

If/Then —the empty sky

For a couple of days I’ve been reading a Rumi poem called “Out in the Empty Sky,” and wanting to write something as response. (Read the poem here). I know I need the message, so today I decided the only response was to do a breakdown on it and put in my own words what it says.

IF………I can sense God in any real way it takes me to a place which is wide open and free. 

I can see all beauty and my inner mirror gets clearer and clearer.

 

THEN……..…I have no fear of loss, no anxieties about everyday difficulties. I can interpret anything in song and stories when God lives through me.

 

 

Time

Time to think

Time to catch up

Time to sleep

Time to weep

Time to be alone and think

Time to be alone and not think

Time away from regular obligations

Time with the ones you love

What else is there, anyway? 

Remembering Melanie

 

I learned of the passing of the singer Melanie Safka from my sister via text. It was after a long day in the emergency room with my husband. He was admitted and I came home and put on my vinyl of her album “Gather Me.” 

In the winter months of 1972, when I was a junior in high school, Melanie was a constant voice for me, along with Joni Mitchell. At the time, they were the same in stature for me—women singing their truth in their own unique voice. Young women who followed my generation did not know how revolutionary this was. But I knew, coming from a time when most songs by women were just about how they saw themselves through the male gaze. Joni, Melanie, and others broke that apart, giving voice to feelings we didn’t know how to express. Joni and Carole King and Carly Simon went on to continued fame and undying respect, where Melanie fell into the background.

But for 16-year-old me, she gave me something undefinable, something different than the others. My hair was like hers, so I think physically I matched her. 

I hadn’t listened to Melanie in decades when I pulled out the vinyl a year or two ago and discovered I still remember every word. The album is full of static because I had such a crappy record player at the time. But I don’t care. It’s Melanie.

So rest well, sweet angel. You made a difference to this girl.

I purchased this at JC Penney on February 12, 1972

Words inside the album, the poem that inspired the title “Gather Me.”

Gather on a hill of wildflowers

 A certain kind of piney tree 

Hot sweet piney tea 

Oh gather me 

And on a hill of wildflowers 

Oh gather me 

A writer who’s in need of sleep 

A lady who’s in loving need 

Don’t hold the sprout against the seed 

Don’t hold this need against me

While I Was Out

 

The sunset view leaving the hospital last night

Those who have been reading this blog know I’ve been struggling in many ways with my learners. Having to be out these past couple of days has been challenging for me, and apparently for them as well.

Yesterday the emails started arriving. I certain substitute guest teacher, whose reputation precedes him, took over my classes. And took over he did! This guy, whom I don’t know personally, has a history of sending kids out of the room for typing too loudly on their Chromebooks. Imagine what happened when he met my 5th period—29 kids, mostly immature boys.

All names have been changed to initials in the following correspondence. The first one came from C.

>>Hello Mrs Sadler the sub was very disrespectful and even threatened to send out people for no reason . And would not let us get snacks or let us ask questions . he would try to send people out for saying here and not listen when trying to tell him something  he almost sent J. out for for know reason .  And some like L. and A. almost got sent out for nothing  . and isolated us for not knowing what to do next . And said that all the people that he sent down on the are part of the 2.67 present that will not make it . And already had a threatened to send people out at the beginning cause of pass times . So I just wanted to bring this to your attention .<<

Okay, I admit…I giggled. These kids do their best to run roughshod over me and, well, although I don’t care for some of the harshness that Mr D. Is displaying, I decided I might be able to bend to my advantage. Here is my response to C.

>>I'm sorry to hear this, C. The fact of the matter is I cannot control what happens when I'm not there. And students have to abide by the rules of the adult in the room. It was like that when I was in school back in the dark ages, and it's the same now.

You know I'm always there when I can be. Unfortunately, my husband was admitted to the hospital and they are trying to get to the bottom of what is causing his breathing issues. We can both remember these are just a couple of days out of our lives when things haven't gone great, and appreciate each other more when we are together again.

Have a nice weekend, and never be afraid to share your concerns. Ms. S. 🌻<<

Then 7th period, and a girl from that class decided to sound the alarm:

>>You are gone, and we have a sub named ¨Mr.D.¨. You assigned a partner work assignment but Mr. D. has been telling us we are not allowed to have a partner and CLEARLY not following your instructions. He also let the students go straight to the time-out room. He allowed S. and L. to go straight to the time-out because they wanted to. This was at the beginning of class before anything.. so if all of us did not finish, it's due to Mr.D. not following your clear instructions.<<

I got a kick out of the fact that they are mad the substitute guest teacher isn’t following my instructions. Where have I heard that before? 🤔  My response to her:

>> I am so sorry, D. All I can say is you have to follow whatever rules the adult in the room requires. You can just exchange computers for the partner part. 

I think they are getting down to the bottom of my husband's health issues (he's in the hospital ), so I hope I can return soon.  Meanwhile, do your best and have a nice weekend. Ms.S. 🌻<<

And finally, another boy from 5th decided to write. He gave himself time to calm down before writing and it shows in his message:

>>HI Mrs.Sadler, I am writing this email to talk to you about the sub. The sub threatened to kick multiple people out for absolutely no reason. He didn't let us raise our hand to ask questions and even if we whisper he would get mad. He kicked out multiple people for no reason. It was hard to get any work done due to these reasons. I believe the name of the sub was Mr. D. Thank You!<<

My response:

>>Dear S.

I am sorry this happened in class today. I wish I could be there, but my husband is in the hospital and I need to be here.

A couple of others have written similar emails. I will  tell you what I told them—the adult in the room is in charge and that means following their rules. It agonizes me to know how you all are feeling, but when I’m not there I have no control on what someone else does. I know you understand this. 

On another note, you wrote a very clear email stating the problem, and I commend you on that.

Have a nice weekend. I hope to see you soon. 

Ms Sadler 🌻<<

The bottom line is I do hate that they’ve been put under this stress, because I’d really prefer they were able to get the work done.  I took it as a good sign that a few of them knew they could reach out to me, even though there isn’t a damn thing I can do! The substitutes guest teachers are now supplied by Kelly Services in our district, so who knows who will be showing up in our classrooms? I still would rather have them than my colleagues having to cover during their planning, like many did on Thursday. On the other hand, it was a reminder to me how much I love the little buggers and I look forward to my return. Hopefully, that feeling won’t be short-lived. 😂

because BOOMER

 Line from Nick Flynn’s poem “Put the Load On Me” inspired this poem: “everything is something else.”

As I bend my brain to figure out my learners, the only thing I can know is that whatever I think drives them it’s probably something else, I’m thinking a mystery I can’t unravel because BOOMER can never understand.

I accept that.

Because even my everything is something else.

One of Those Days

 It begins when you look at your loved one and you know something is wrong.

Then you find yourself checking him into the emergency room where you spend hours upon hours in a chair, waiting for test results, watching the incredible staff do things you can’t imagine doing, and you don’t eat because you’re not hungry.

Then the doc comes in and says, it isn’t this horrible thing or that horrible thing, but here is all the data and wow, we don’t know what it is, so we need to keep him here.

You’ve called in all the prayer warriors via text, the friends and family, and that iPhone becomes a lifeline to the outside world…the one that isn’t a medical facility.

And by evening your loved one is eating a hospital meal and you know he’s in good hands. You want to get home before dark, and as you leave the sun and sky and tree silhoette whispers

All will be well

Dying? Or Being Born?

 Two inspirations today: “Just Beyond the Fence, A Train” by David Kirby and “I Won’t Stay for Long” by David Crosby.

From the poem: 

You can’t save everyone

You save whom you can

Right now, I’m just trying to save myself

But there may be some screenagers* who will come along

Some who care about learning, growing, becoming a better person

But if they won’t come willingly, I cannot make them

Truth is, I can’t keep pushing this river

Too exhausting

Out of 180+ students, what can I get? Maybe 20%?

Today I speak to them, that 20%. I make it about them.

I do I to save me.

“I don’t know if I’m dying or about to be born”

AFTERWORD:

I’m concluding that my desire to reach all my learners is a fool’s errand. As a teacher, I long to make that difference. But I feel the culture is working so against us all, beating us down.  I cannot continue this way.

Am I admitting defeat? Maybe. Or maybe I’m just retreating so I can find the right reinforcements. My current ones are failing me, not shoring me up like they used to. They just don’t seem to work anymore.

I surrender myself to what is. I listen for my next step.

🌻

* about screenagers—this from a website about Generation Alpha

Once you leave…

Today I read David Whyte’s poem “Once Around the Moon and Back.” It’s a beautiful narrative on how mothers say things that subtly launch us into the world.

For me it was my mom telling me what her mother told her when she got married: Once you leave, you don't come back.

My father did not concur. Once I moved out, he was always trying to get me to come back home.

But my mom was clear. No.

A Million New Versions

 When I reviewed my writings here from last week, I felt a bit annoyed with myself. Why do I change every day? Why am I seemingly always setting a new course? I had told myself to tamp it down already.

Then I read a poem called “Unlearning” by Nikita Gill, where she posits that womanhood is about unlearning all you’ve been taught. Now, this isn’t a new thought to me, but the words here got me:

how to understand 

there are a million 

new versions of you 

hiding under your skin

This immediately made me feel less crazy about my process, and helped me understand that’s the purpose of living and growing. We are all doing it all the time…I’m just vocalizing it.

So welcome to the Monday January 22, 2024 version of me. She comes with beauty and purpose and yes, a little fierceness. Every day can be a tiny celebration of something newly discovered.

Fierce

Two influences today for this essay: Rumi's poem "Fierce Courtesy" and Day 340 in Marianne Williamson's book A Year of Miracles: "For Reflection: On Finding Your Calling."

FIERCE! A word I need now.

To EMERGE (my word this year) takes a certain amount of FIERCENESS. Yes, I've been working on gentleness and finding joy and remembering to love. But some fierceness is required as well.

The balance is tough -- it's a constant guessing game, like a roulette wheel of chance ever changing around me. Will my approach be the right one? Will I make the right choice? Will I feel like I won or lost?

I've learned I cannot rely on anything except my own focus and fierceness to get any job done.

This past week was tough. The kids were loud and crazy and we were all struggling with them. Too much time away from school, I suppose. This week at least we can get back into a more regular routine, which we all need.

Because truthfully, I was a bit off my game as well. I put off planning things that needed to be done, causing me unnecessary stress.

AND I KNOW BETTER.

So today, despite being Sunday, I'm putting some plans in place, and I will not be sorry.

I know what I need to do will present itself, and I know that will be a win for us all. As Marianne Williamson wrote:

Your highest function is simply to be the person you are capable of being, and from that effort -- the development of your kindness and positivity, your vulnerability and availability to life, your calling will emerge.

It is not a gamble, now that I think about it. It is purposeful choice. It is fiercely living what I am called to do. And as I so often say to myself: Just remember to do the next right thing!

Tempest

 

Images remain from this week:

Smiling 5th graders

Tears in a sister teacher’s classroom

A mountain of science workbooks scattered on table and floor

A teacher begging for quiet, her ears ringing from the noise

Anxiety raging in her through the restless night

Reinforcements in ear plugs & chocolate

Kick out that back-talking instigator

Sail on to calmer seas

Move

 Practicing with sound effects today as I prepare for Creative Writing class. I am providing first lines that has alliteration, assonance, and/or consonance.

Come when the nights are bright with stars

Be and believe you can leave the scars

Life calls to us beyond barriers and bars

Only move to make this place truly ours

Reflection

 From David Whyte’s poem “The Well of Stars,” this line inspired my words today.

Keep that look in your eyes

and you’ll gladly grow tired of your reflection.

I am always reflecting on things, why they happen.

But this line from the poem reminds me

There is still a lot of “doing” that needs to be done

Reflection is nothing without action.

At Twenty-Six (a nonet)

 Inspired by the poem “Your Heart is not a Hospital” by Nikita Gill. Read it https://emergingfromthedarknight.best/2018/04/04/your-heart-is-not-a-hospital-nikita-gill/

I was twenty six years old when I 

came to realize what she says, 

that I never should settle 

or think I’m not worth more. 

When it became clear, 

I took control 

and then found 

the real 

me.

I’m Not Buying

 Journal entry today:

I had plenty of preparation to do yesterday, but I did none of it. Rather, I finished a novel I was reading.

Yes, I feel the stress of this. On top of it, the things I needed to prep are “off script”—things that came to me and said DO THIS.  I’m brave when I hear those words in my heart and soul, but a couple days later I start wavering.

I read a Rumi poem called “I’m Not This”  and know some truth is there.

I got a glimpse.

My body is strong and rested. My soul feels blessed from an incredible yoga class yesterday.

I don’t feel teacher ready…but my focus is clear.

I can stand in front of my learners today, wholly me and ready to give them another large dollop of positive and loving direction.

What did they use to tell us when I was in sales? You can buy your customer’s story, or you can sell them yours.

I have been inspired by the best. I have listened for what I need to do.

Why do I doubt?

I am not this!

And I’m not buying any story that says I’m doing it wrong, especially from myself.

Sacred Nature Yoga

With great joy I attended a Stretch & Strengthen yoga class this morning at a brand new studio, owned by one of my favorite instructors, Jamie. Sacred Nature has opened in the old Yoga Bird location at Royal Palm Square Shopping Center. 

“Nurture with Nature”

The environment Jamie has creating is truly nurturing. I have never seen so many plants in a yoga center! There are many unique touches, including a “Celebrate Our Teachers” bulletin board, where anyone can post a picture of someone who has been a teacher to them, and a little shop where nothing is more than $5, and all proceeds got to one of two charities.

Here’s a little tour. Captions under the photos provide further explanation.

Plants serve many metaphorical opportunities.

The front of the studio. So many plants!

Owner Jamie

There are some sweet touches throughout the studio.

One by one,  the plants are being named. I named the bigger one Stella.

I chose this quote design on the floor to place my mat for class. Each quote is unique.

If you are in the Fort Myers area and are looking for an inviting and inspiring yoga studio, check out Sacred Nature Studio.

https://www.sacrednaturestudio.com/

Your Gifts

Every morning I read a selection from a book called A Year of Miracles by Marianne Williamson. The readings are based on the book A Course in Miracles, of which I've been a longtime student.

Earlier this week, on a page entitled For Reflection: On Where to Put Our Talents, I read the following:

We're not raised in a society that asks, "What are your gifts, and how can they make the world a more beautiful place?" We're usually asked something more like this: "What will you do to make a living?" This knocks us out of our natural rhythm, because the soul simply doesn't think that way.

I decided right then and there I would ask my learners the two important questions.

Although it turned out to be a challenge for some of my young people to understand they had a gift to give the world, most of them dove right in with answers. Since we are an arts school, many of the 146 responses had to do with art, theater, dance, and music. And there was a smattering of sport and video game related responses.

We often don't get to talk about these things in school, and I think it was a wonderful exercise for them to have to think about this.  By the way, one person did ask what my gift was and I said writing! Doing it, teaching it, reading about it. I am a writer, for sure!

I have selected 20 of the responses to share here:

I am funny and sarcastic. I can make people laugh.

I'm good at being nice to people. I can help give the world more kindness.

I am great at math and can become a math teacher.

I'm good at running in football and soccer. I can make kids healthy again.

My gifts are intelligence, music, imagination, and courage. I can help the world by making new medicines and other amazing achievements.

I am good at acting and academics. Theater makes people happy, and academics advances the quality of life.

My gifts are kindness and generosity. I can spread more joy throughout the world.

I am good at basketball, and I can show my dunking skills when I'm in the WBNA.

My gift is being smart. I can make schools for people who can't afford them.

Art is my gift. I can make spread beauty by creating art pieces for the world to admire. 

 

Even the ocean gives us a gift we all enjoy! 

I am good at reading and academics. I can be a teacher and help people understand things.

Dance. I can perform and entertain people for their enjoyment.

My mom says I'm a big-hearted person. I care a lot for my friends and family and strangers.

My gift is styling clothes. I can help style and inspire other people.

 

Reading, swimming, public speaking, being kind, and making friends. I can help make people feel more welcome at school.

Music and patience. I can listen to people's  problems and comfort them, then I can show them some awesome music.

I have a gift for makeup and creativity. I can create a makeup line and spread positivity and diversity in the makeup community.

I am a positive person. I can pick people up when they're feeling down, and help them feel more confident and happy.

I can make some mean fried chicken. I can make people's bellies feel great.

 

I'm good at violin, figure skating, soccer, gymnastics, dance, and singing. My friends say I'm funny and kind. I can't fix the world, but I can make my friends happy, and they can spread the positivity.

*

You can bet I'll be doing this activity again!

The Fire

This morning I read the poem “You Darkness” by Rainer Marie Rilke, and decided to use the last line to start my own poem. 

I have faith in the night

as it brings me ideas 

and yes, sometimes worries 

and on occasion, regrets.

The older I grow the more I know 

the value of the dark,

and this is what Rilke 

so brilliantly expresses.

The fire —it’s fine 

but what we need most 

is the dark,

so we can find the fire

 in ourselves.

One Direction

Last night while making dinner, a song came on and I found myself dancing and singing along. It brought back such a happy memory.

It was my last year teaching seniors, and it was one of my AICE Literature classes. They were among the smartest kids I ever taught, and I thought I knew their musical taste—mostly hip hop, with one girl being a Beatles fan. Nicki Minaj was a favorite, I know.

The school news would come on at the end of the period. At the end of one broadcast, a video started. In my memory, I did not know the song or the video, but every other person in the room did. The entire class burst out in song, singing at the top of their lungs. It was so joyful, so fun, and so unexpected, I simply cannot hear the song without the memory attached.

And that’s why every time I hear it, there is only one direction to go…open up my lungs and loudly sing along!

Inspired by Stars

 

In my classroom I have a poster that looks like an eye chart with the Emerson quote “When it’s dark enough, you can see the stars.”

Today I read a poem called “Dark Days” by Nikita Gill. It resonated because I feel like I’m coming out of some darkness regarding my classroom life. A shift has occurred…a much needed shift.

I created this found poem from Gill’s. 

I look at the stars

Patchwork of time

Single burst of starlight

Beautiful piece of art

A better version of me

They are helping me see

The Individual

 

What is planted in each person’s soul will sprout. —Rumi

I read a quote this morning about how individual students are loving and funny and beautiful people, but it is the classroom dynamic where things go awry.

And I believe that!

Yesterday I put my energy into the individual. I talked to more students one on one than I normally do in a school day. It kept me grounded and focused on the right things.

In other words — I looked away from the group dynamic that so often causes me angst.

And it was a busy day!

Now…to keep it up.

18 Months

 I’ve long known it takes 18 months to really get the hang of a job. I have witnessed this in my own life over and over ever since Jim told me this fact. It is what he witnessed when he was in charge of salespeople. It was never wise to let them go too soon if they didn’t “perform.”

I am now looking at that number in reverse. 18 months is what I have left as a teacher in public schools. 

And I still feel like I’m trying to get it right.

Today I begin a new adventure. Okay, maybe not entirely new, but a new approach. I am storyboarding what we are doing, I’m making chapters, and I’m crystal clear on what needs to be accomplished. In other words, why we do the things we do.

Has this always been built in to my teaching in some way? I suppose. But this new process is making it clearer to me, and that matters the most. I know the strongest influence of the classroom environment is the teacher. 

It reminds me so much of reading Bob Dylan’s memoir, where he talks about how something broke open in his brain and he suddenly could see how he could approach his music in an entirely new way. This was at the end of the 1980s, and as I write this I’m listening to the album that came out of this timeframe, and I’m loving it. It is setting a tone for me that connects across time and space. 

For the next 18 months I commit again to getting it right. To ditch my cynicism and sarcasm and anger and frustration and replace with light and laughter and love and joy and remember the age and needs of my learners. I still believe I have the best job in the world, and I know that if I don’t at least try, what good am I?

The Impossible

 what is impossible

happens everyday

—Nikita Gill—

I think of my learners

who seem so impossible

at times

and I have a new thought

because I know it’s true

because people can change

and I will believe

and hold that space. 

(Written 12/16/23)

What will you do? What will you say?

Today I read a poem by David Whyte called “Horse in Landscape: Franz Marc.” I looked up the painting so I could understand the poem better. 

He describes much of what you see here, and then he writes:

What will you do 

and what will you say 

in the times 

when you are left alone 

to meet, like this, 

the quiet fury of the world.

I thought he was referring to the landscape. Then I realized, no, he meant the horse — the horse represented the “quiet fury.”

I am not sure about the quiet fury of the world, but I know my quiet fury. I faced it again yesterday when discussing Jim’s health. The frustration and loss sometimes overwhelms me and yes, I am angry. I feel that tightening in my chest and what I say is…

There is a plan — I just don’t know it yet.

And what do I do?

TRUST.

I have lived long enough to know these are the only worthy  responses. I know acceptance is everything. Surrendering to what IS and not what I think it should be is essential.

And make no mistake—-this very much feels like I’m alone. It is my choices in life brought me here. And God did not bring me this far to see me fall.

So, I face the fury of my own future as I stand in a colorful landscape of love and awareness and nature. I allow myself…

To be lifted

To have the sun in my heart

To find joy

Over and over and over again, this is my response.

This is what I do. This is what I say.

The Sun and the Moon

 Inspired by Nikita Gill’s poem by the same name.

I am the sun in my classroom.

It is my role to shine a light on my learners.

They are in various phases, sometimes might even appear broken.

Yet, they are whole within themselves

and my job is to find ways to make them glow.

I say this in the wake of hearing and reading

so much rigidity from teachers.

The sun is not rigid.

It delights.

It warms.

It makes things grow.

Where the heck did this idea come from that our students 

are employees and we pay them with grades?

This thinking is anti-sun.

It brings darkness.

It’s arrogant and ignorant and downright mean.

I still recall Michael Meade’s words:

The teacher must stand in the waterfall with her students.

Likewise, I see that I must be the sun.

What better purpose could there possibly be 

than to help others 

glow and grow?

“The Knots Untie”

Inspired by Rumi’s poem of the same name.

Love is pulling us out by the ear to school.

Love wants us clean of resentment and those impulses that misguide our souls.

 When we try to make sense of things

without realizing it’s all about the narrative,

the story we tell ourselves,

we are misguided souls.

Nothing in isolation.

Nothing permanent.

We are constantly fooled, aren’t we?