The Countdown Begins:

This week marks the halfway point for the 4th quarter. When I head that, I tried to look back on this past year and figure out what I did and how in the world it went so fast. I’ve been living in one of those moments…you know, the one where you feel like time flew by, yet when you try to think back to the beginning it seems forever ago? Which, in reality, makes no sense. My kids are quick to tell me that time is constant and never changing. Now how is it possible they can be that profound but can’t tell me what a noun is? ☺ I have been blessed with a great class to start with. They have been patient with me, challenging, and so very helpful. I know almost every teacher will tell you that the first year is unbearably difficult, but rarely do they explain why. Frustrated with this assumption as I began my year, I now understand. It’s more than the students and the classroom planning. It’s developing the appropriate relationships with fellow teachers, getting all the administrative tasks complete (technology hours, professional growth hours, mentoring program, team minutes, cross team minutes, HAL program, etc), keeping up with absent students, etc. It’s not the teaching that was hard. With fighting to not become calloused or get sucked into the world of gossip around you, teaching and reasoning often become a blur. Although I had my moments, there were enough outside sources to keep me sane. I am so content and at peace with where I am at in Blair. There is a part of me that is sad to see my first year come to an end. I had goals to accomplish, other topics to teach, students to change, and definitely more personal growth. I’ll do my best to cram it in to the last few weeks.
One of my favorite things I was able to do this spring was at the end of my poetry unit. My sister, Mandy, gave me this idea. After having my students write their own poetry and memorize a poem of their choice, I wanted to have a day to celebrate—and learn at the same time of course. To do this, I had a “coffee shop” set up in my room. I had hot chocolate and cookies with the desks arranged like little tables. The students then had to come with a poem to share—whether they read or recited it. To my surprise, almost all of my students shared a poem they had written AND decided to memorize. They were proud of what they wrote, and their courage and talent amazed me.
This summer holds some exciting adventures that make it hard not for me to wish this last half-quarter by. I am doing my best to keep my life in perspective and realize that this year ending means letting these students go. That’s a heartache that on the surface seems almost refreshing, but will be difficult in time.
The first few weeks of the summer I will be consumed finishing and producing the middle school yearbook…or the remains of it at least. After that, the first week of June I will be entering my first graduate class. The following week I have a few days of conferences to attend with the Language Arts team at my school. My most exciting trip this summer will be the one I take with my friend, Haley. We are scheduled to take a road trip to Seattle, Washington. Our list of things to do and see is endless, some of which include the needle, the parks, museums, running a half marathon (!), hiking, etc. We have planned out each day and traveling schedule. I look forward to updating you all on that when the time comes.
My month of July is dedicated to spending time with my family—especially my niece, Greta, and my unborn niece/nephew. I’m excited for the changes happening in my family once again this year. They’re keeping me on my toes and have enjoyed the additions to the family in the past 2-3 years.
But before the summer even begins, I am currently enjoying my last break at home surrounded by family that lives near-by. This Easter Abby, Brittany, and I have been able to enjoy some quality bonding time. I like to think of them (along with Corrie and Janie ☺ ) as my “little sisters.” Hearing about their time at college has blessed my life this break. It’s brought me closer to them than I ever have before. We also had the blessing of extended family over for Easter dinner. A family in our church, with their 4 young kids, joined us after lunch. When the meal was over, the kids and some adults went outside to play wiffle-ball in the backyard. It was almost sad for Abby and I as we watched the kids play and realized how not so long ago we were out there running wild. This led to the endless reminiscing of driveway roller-hockey games, baseball in the back yard, putting on plays/concerts, etc. My how times have changed…

Back Work

I feel like I have some catching up to do. At school, we call missing assignments “back work.” That’s what we’ll call this I guess. When I made my decision to move to Blair and teach in their community, I was overwhelmed with the ideas of uprooting from anything familiar, moving to the state of Nebraska (still shocked on that one), having a career, beginning teaching, leaving college, living on my own, etc. I couldn’t focus enough for any of these things to sink in. I spent two weeks with my dad “touring” the Chicagoland, our home away from home, together. We were able to do some work on my grandparents’ home, visit old friends, spend an afternoon reuniting with family, and of course our total of 16 hours in a car together. Needless to say, this trip changed my life. I had conversations that allowed me to understand forgiveness, grace, and love and take a step forward in each. I can’t imagine a better way to step into a new stage of life than how I was able to.

After that refreshing two weeks, I opened the door to my new journey. As it shut behind me, it hit me—HARD. My first two weeks of school were combined with volleyball practice before school from 5:30-7:30 and after school from 3:45-6:15. When games started, I would have my freshmen girls practice before school and then attend the varsity games after school. These nights I usually didn’t get back until 11:30pm and still had grading or lesson plans to complete. When November hit and the end of the season approached, I was exhausted. I found myself getting frustrated with my students by 9:00am. Where was my joy? My patience? It wasn’t even their fault! My superficial view of what I would be like as a teacher was severely tainted and discouraging. Last fall is still a blur to me. However, I took the opportunity and freedom of November and December and ran with it. I enjoyed my classroom and my students. I invested in their lives and how they were changing with me as well. They kept me honest, always blunt with their words. Realizing their need for attention, I experimented with ways to quench that need. I found that although their grammar may not always be correct or their ideas organized, their journals are honest and true to who they are. I take advantage of the fact they forget I get to read what they write in their notebooks that appear sitting unopened in the back of my room. Regardless, I am fascinated at their honesty and vulnerability. I have countless stories, both entertaining and humbling:

While teaching about gender specific pronouns, one student reminded me that they were “adults” and could handle me saying the real word. I had no idea what he was talking about and asked him to explain. He repeated, “Miss Mahr, we’re all adults here. Just say it.” Still confused, I said that if we’re all adults he should just say it. With a sigh he continued, “You know, S-E-X.” He assumed I was talking about sex pronouns. Sadly we went into a discussion how gender and sex can’t always be interchanged.

I had my students do a different type of journal the other day. They usually have a writing prompt of some kind and have to write 15 lines over it. This time, they had to make a list. The list consisted of writing “I am…” or “I am not…” Some examples I gave were “I am not country…I am rock and roll.” I wanted them to use nouns, not adjectives to describe themselves. Not knowing what I would get but not wanting to over-give instruction, I let them go to it. At the end of the day, I sat down and read through what they wrote. I was amazed:

I am fear.
I am courage.
I am tears.
I am not pain.
I am not anger.
I am the scar, not the wound.
I am joy.
I am peace.


Those are rewarding and humorous stories that keep me entering the classroom with an optimistic attitude every day. I’ve learned that patience is the most important thing I can bring into my room. I have no idea what my students face before and after school. Recently I have been exposed to situations that are going on in some of my students’ lives. My heart aches for them. The perspective was needed in this area. My job got away from me. For a brief moment I stopped caring and allowed myself to get angry and bitter at my students. God graciously opened my eyes to their circumstances and the opportunity I have to change their environment for the 43 minutes I have them every day. My hope is that my room will become a safe haven for them. In November I took a “sick day.” I know, I know…in my defense—I admitted to my need for a mental health day and not that I was literally sick. The following is an excerpt of that day:
November 4th

Today I took my first sick day as a teacher. I wasn’t sick. I was emotionally drained. Mentally lost. I speak of my enjoyment of life more than actually enjoying it. I have lived in Blair, alone, for 3 months. I have job, money, friends, a church, etc. I am happy. But I feel I control that happiness. Entering my classroom I felt myself get grumpy immediately. That is where I want to be the happiest. I want to spread my joy and for it to be enriched in the classroom. Instead, I let incomplete assignments, disrespectful comments, and plain exhaustion get in my way. Today was my sick day to figure that out. I control my happiness, my joy, my anger, my disappointment, who I am. My actions reflect my character. These people have nothing to look back to and excuse my behavior. How I act is who I am. I make choices and these choices echo through my past, present, and future. If I lived as much in Christ as I keep wishing I did, my life would be full of endless joy. I pray I begin to soon. My joy and peace is found in the hope and ream of who I could be as a fully surrendered and satisfied woman of God. My mom inspires me each day. Each day I talk to her, I hear and feel her joy and satisfaction in Christ. Dare I say I hope to be like my mother some day? Her confidence and assurance assures me. It motivates me. I love her. I love her commitment, her drive, her love. Maybe someday soon, all these people, books, movies, and songs will not only inspire me, but create such a conviction within me that I have no choice but to change.

Reasoning...

My sister, Mandy, set high expectations for me as I entered the world of teaching. Through her monthly, and often weekly, updates of her life we felt as though we walked into her classroom with her every day. As my first year is drawing to an end, I see how I have allowed that goal to go unaccomplished. This is my feeble attempt at keeping you updated on my life and trials in Blair, Nebraska and the surrounding areas.

You must know that the title "speak" comes from my favorite teen novel Speak in which a young girl struggles to find her voice: "It is easier not to say anything. Shut your trap, button your lip, can it. All that crap you hear on TV about communication and expressing feelings is a lie. Nobody really wants to hear what you have to say" (Speak pg. 9). Through her journey, she comes to fully understand the necessity of speaking and sharing her thoughts. This is something that I press upon my students on a daily basis. I will attempt to take my own advice and share my voice through "speak."