On the Relevance of the Alleged Robbery and the Murder of Mike Brown

It's not relevant.

His Light Shined, and Now I'm Ready to Talk About It

One year ago today, at 22 months old, Zion was rolled away from me on a hospital bed as the doctors prepared to remove what they believed was a cancerous testicle from his little body. It all started when the previous week, he ran a 105.7 fever. After a few phone calls to the ER, we were told to bring him in, and we spent Wednesday night/Thursday morning at the hospital.


At the hospital, the doctors used two catheters on Zion to test for a urinary tract infection. After a few more tests, we were released to go home. They gave Zion some fever medicine, and that was it. Thursday evening, he kept saying, “Ouch, pee pee ouch.” We don’t use “pee pee” to describe penis, so we assumed that he was saying that when he used the bathroom, or “pee peed,” it hurt. We just thought he was sore from the catheters.

 The next day, Friday evening, KB called me at basketball practice and told me to come home right away because Zion was rolling around, screaming in non-stop fits of pain on the floor. At this point he’s grabbing himself, crying “Pee pee ouch!”

 We headed back to the ER. Have you ever been to an ER on a Friday night? It was jam packed and everyone’s wait was long, hours long; however, everyone didn’t have a kid screaming at the top of his lungs, “Ouch, pee pee ouch!” People did seem to be concerned and not agitated, though. We were asked a few times, “There’s nothing they can give him?” or “They haven’t called y’all back, yet?” KB and I even contemplated just taking him back home. I’m so thankful that we did not! I think eventually, maybe after two hours or so, the ER staff felt sorry for us and let us skip ahead of people.

 More tests were run, this time a few scans of his private areas were taken. We retold our story a thousand times, and all of the doctors just seemed puzzled. We were then admitted for a hospital stay and given a room. We still didn’t know what was wrong. Saturday morning came, doctors and interns were in and out. We thought we were staying another night, but that afternoon we were released to go home and told to come back Wednesday. Huh?

Wednesday, Zion was feeling fine, as if the previous events never happened. I took him to the Children’s Hospital at Duke, only to receive the shocker of my life.

 The doctor, in a very sensitive and compassionate way, told me that Zion has what appears to be a cancerous growth on his left testicle. In fact, it’s actually bigger than what it was Saturday, and Zion needed surgery immediately, as in tomorrow. I was too shocked to have any outward show of emotion. What?!? Huh?!? 

The doctor proceeded to show me the scans of Zion’s body. Apparently, cancerous cells have a glow to them, and as the doctor pointed out, and I was a witness to, one of his testicles was glowing, but the other was not. Additionally, the glowing testicle was obviously bigger than the other. The doctor continued, saying that a team of doctors had met several times to review Zion’s scans, and they were all baffled because they had never seen testicular cancer in a 22 month old before.

 I just started praying. Still no other emotion.

 We couldn’t get Zion’s surgery scheduled for the next day so we had to go with Friday, December 7th. I’m not one to trust doctors right away because I’ve been misdiagnosed several times. And my life would be extremely different had I listened to and followed the direction of my first diagnoses. Thus, I wanted a second opinion; however, did we have time for a second opinion? It seemed as if the doctor would have operated that afternoon had a room been available. And the growth had already gotten larger in four days. Everything was just happening all too fast!

 I called KB to tell him the news. We called our families and basically tried to downplay the situation, and we prayed. We emailed our close friends asking for their prayers. All we had was our faith. Knowing that we serve an awesome and amazing God kept us from losing our minds.

I tried to go to work Thursday and focus. I was fine until one of the guidance counselors randomly came to check on a few students. He and I have worked together previously, and we have a somewhat close relationship. We started with small talk, and then I think he asked me how Zion was doing, and I had a break down. I was bawling so hard I couldn’t even talk—could barely breathe. He was like, “Ronda, oh my goodness what is wrong?!?” Bless his heart. I didn’t mean to do that to him. I’m sure I scared him to death. But I explained the story, and he convinced me to go home. Why was I at work anyway? Who is told that their child is having a major surgery to remove cancer, and then decides to go to work? Who does that?

 At home, I started to think and process what was actually happening. I realized that I didn’t want to tell more people about what Zion was going through, what we were going through, because I did not want people speaking that my son had cancer. I did not want people giving life to that belief. I started thinking about what it meant for my son to have cancer. I prayed. I didn’t even ask God to remove the cancer, to let it not be cancer, or to heal my child. I asked for His will to be done and to give me peace over whatever His will may be.

 Friday came, and I went back with Z for the surgery prep. My mom, dad, niece, and a church member were with KB and I. I held it together on surgery day until the doctors rolled Zion away from me. I came back out to meet my family, and just began bawling, again, on my mom’s shoulder.

 The surgery seemed to last forever. Finally, a doctor came out to give us an update. The doctor explained that the surgery went well. Tissue was removed from Zion and sent to the lab. The results showed that the tissue was non cancerous. Again the doctor was baffled because he was sure it was cancer. KB and I looked at each other. My first thought, honestly, was “You mean you just cut on my baby for nothing!?!” Since that moment, I’ve felt so guilty because I should have just been praising the Lord that my son didn’t have cancer and that he would keep both testicles. It was a miracle. Zion was going to be fine!

 I think KB and I were still in shock while the doctor was talking. We didn’t show excitement or sadness when he delivered the news. We were both in deep thought, still trying to process everything that was going on. We thanked the doctor, though, and at the follow-up appointment, I had KB reiterate our thankfulness and explain our lack of initial gratitude. We wanted him to know that we appreciated all of his work and care that he provided Zion.

 We took Z home from the hospital that afternoon, and he was fine, except that he attempted to walk and his legs were still numb. Trying to keep him still so that he wouldn’t hurt himself was hard work. But he was fine. The people who came to see him were expecting to find a sickly child, but Zion would have none of that. Kids are so resilient! God is good!

So one year later, I have decided to sing the Praises of the Lord that I/we didn’t sing before. Yes we were thankful, but when God shows up the way he did with Zion’s surgery, we have to be more than just thankful. We have to share our testimonies, giving glory to God. Our God is a healer, a way-maker, a provider, and much more. And had the outcome been different, and it was cancer, or had the circumstances been completely different and my son were no longer here, all of the above that I said about God would still reign true. My son has been nothing but a blessing since entering our lives. Whether he’s here only for tomorrow, a year from now, or a hundred years from now, I’m thankful for the time that God has allowed us to have with him. The truth is, life is short, and tomorrow is not promised to anyone-harsh but real. And I’m so thankful that my steps are ordered and that God is in control no matter what may come my way. Whether I agree with His choices or not, I find peace in knowing that man is not control of this world. God is.

 So I praise you, my heavenly father, for each minute of each day that we get to spend with Zion Elijah. He is first and foremost your son, and we are just here to prepare him for your Kingdom. I thank you for choosing us as his parents. Thank you for healing my son, when you didn’t have to. Thank you for allowing us to keep our faith and sanity during that trying time. Thank you for the doctors, our family, and our friends who showed so much love and support—who prayed for us.

 Thank You, Thank You, Thank You!

 With tears in my eyes at this very moment, I sing:
 Every praise is to our God.
Every word of worship with one accord
Every praise, every praise is to our God.
Sing hallelujah to our God
Glory hallelujah is due our God
Every praise, every praise is to our God.

 I love you!

Amen.

My Near Death Experience With White Water

I'm glad I'm saved and I'm glad I'm a praying woman.

Last week I went white water rafting for the first time. It was a part of my NCCAT experience with my Kenan Fellowship. If you really know me, you know that I've almost drowned 2 times (kinda 3 if I count Cali but that's another story) and you know I have issues with water because of this and that's why it took me 3 hours to pass the swim test at UNC just so that I could graduate.

Back to last week. I really wanted to enjoy this experience because I knew that I probably wouldn't do this again. So when we were given the option to go with the "timid" group or the "adventurous" group, I chose adventurous (in hindsight I should've asked for a working definition of "adventurous"). Before I stepped foot on the raft, I had already said about three prayers. I was prayed up and ready to go.

When we got ready to get in the raft, me and another fellow looked around to see who was going to ride in the front. Since no one else wanted to be up there, Stephanie and I decided we'd do it. So we're going down Nantahala River. The water was very cold, about 52 degrees. The air was cool due to the shade from all from all of the flora;) The river had a few calm, slow paced spots. But every once-in-a-while, the speed would increase and the waters would get rough. The cold water would splash against us and send sharp chills over our bodies when we'd dip or when the instructor would have us spin or bump up against a rock. Felt like an adventure to me!

Well, our instructor spotted a huge, pointy rock that jutted about 6ft out of the water. It wasn't straight up and down; it was more like an incline. She said, "I've never tried this rock before." And she added something like, "We're going to today." Stephanie and I looked at each other like, "Really?!? We don't need to be trying nothing new." We rowed towards this miniature mountain, and the instructor yelled, "Lean in." That's what you're supposed to do to keep from being tossed out. As we hit the rock, Stephanie and I leaned in, but because of how we hit, the left side of the raft turned upward and the impact tossed both me and Stephanie into the air, knocking us both into the river.

I remembered going into the water. I started flailing my arms upwards. My hands walked the bottom of raft and I realized three things: I'm trapped under water underneath this raft, I just had a baby, and I'm about to drown because they aren't going to see me. I remembered trying to move my hands so that I could find the edge of the raft and come up for air. Finally I reached a rope that ran alongside the raft and I pulled myself up with one hand. I heard people shouting, "Swim!" Someone in the raft, Carrie, grabbed me but I kept feeling myself being sucked back into the water (mind you the river current is still forcing us down the river). Carrie said she was trying to reach her oar to me but that I was still holding onto mine (which I didn't remember). Carrie threw down hers and then took my oar from my hand. She then attempted to pull me up by my life jacket. She was pulling hard but I wasn't coming out of the water. "Grab her!" I heard someone shout. I yelled, "I'm not in. Don't let me go!" Then our instructor shouted, "Kick your legs!!" I started kicking and Carrie miraculously pulled me out of the water by the shoulders of my life jacket. Later Carrie said that I should've seen the look of terror on my face. I thought, I knew my face was looking crazy because I thought I was going to drown!

Once I was in the raft, I was facing the opposite direction of everyone else. I started looking around for Stephanie and I noticed she wasn't in there (mind you I'm disoriented at this time). I turned my head from side to side asking, "Where's Stephanie!?! Where's Stephanie!?!" They told me she was rescued by another raft. Then I looked back and saw my crazy instructor. Why did she say, "That's why you're supposed to lean in!" I almost cussed her out! I'm bout to drown because you had us doing a trick that you never tried before against this dag'um mountain and you gone blame me, the English teacher who's rafting for the first time in her life? Really!?!" I had to spin around to face the front before I capsized the whole raft trying to get to her. Then I thought, "This is

why black people don't go rafting!"

A few minutes later we pulled over and got out of the raft for lunch. One of the fellows who was in the raft behind us told me that her instructor knew what was about to happen to us. He said something to the extent of, "She (the instructor) is doing that wrong. The two in the front are going to end up in the water." And low and behold we did.

I'm so thankful I said my prayers before I got in that water. It was the grace of God that pried me from the death grip of the Nantahola River. I will never go rafting again! I don't like adventures that much. Now, I did enjoy the experience and there was some amazing scenery, but I'm good.

Teaching Inference

Last night while reading Zion his bedtime stories, I had an epiphany for a lesson on how to teach inference. We were reading "Good Night, Gorilla" by Peggy Rathmann, which is similar to "Goodnight Moon." At any rate, some of the pages didn't have words (well I think I can write a children's book!), so I started making up things to say. For example, the zookeeper husband didn't know the animals were out and had followed him home, right into his bedroom. The wife had to get up while the husband was asleep and walk the animals back to the zoo. As she's walking, her head and shoulders were drooping, and all the animals were in single file trudging along right behind her. There were no words on this page. So I said, "He always do this. Why do I have to be the one to take these animals back? How many times have I told him to check his keys because that gorilla is sneaky?!?" In the book, the gorilla steals the zookeeper husband's keys and lets out the animals after he passes telling them, "Good night."

Once we finished reading, the idea came to me that this would be a great activity to help students develop their inference skills. I could give them a picture from a children's book or any picture without words and tell them to create the story using what they see. It would be interesting to hear what the students come up with.

I'm sure this idea isn't new, but I've never tried it before and my students always struggle with making inferences.

I'll try this next year and report back on how well it goes.

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Me Geeking Over a Student Response

I'm sitting in my kitchen, this beautiful Saturday morning, grading tests. After grading a few and feeling disappointed, I came across one that made me stop and create this post. This 9th grade student had a very good answer to one of the questions.

Here is the short answer question: Pick a symbol to represent Claudia from The Bluest Eye, and explain how she and the object you've chosen are similar.

Here is my student's response: I feel that Claudia is like cheap bleach. I say that because if you ever use cheap bleach on white clothes, which is like giving Claudia that white baby doll, she would destroy the baby doll, just like bleach would destroy your clothes.

After reading so many responses that just missed the mark, this was a breath of fresh air and gave me the energy to grade a few more tests before taking a break.

"Love the Way You Lie"

At first I didn't think I was going to like Eminem and Rhianna's new song "Love the Way You Lie." I had read CNN's article "Eminem and Rihanna's New Video: Is Domestic Violence "The New Normal?", in which Carol Castello criticizes Rihanna for being a part of a video with lyrics that critics say "are violent and offensive to women?" I must admit, at first, I was a lil disappointed in Ri-Ri. But unlike most people, I don't believe everything I read, so I decided to read the lyrics first and then watch the video to make my own judgment.

I got through the first two verses of the song, and I could see how someone could argue that the lyrics promoted domestic violence for both men and women. Maybe "promoted" is the wrong choice of words here. At this point in the song, domestic violence isn't promoted but it's okayed . Take for instance these lines,
"Hi>gh off of love, drunk from my hate,
It's like I'm huffing paint and I love it the more I suffer, I suffocate
And right before I'm about to drown, she resuscitates me
She f***ing hates me and I love it.
Wait! Where you going?
"I'm leaving you"
No you ain't. Come back we're running right back.
Here we go again
It's so insane cause when it's going good, it's going great
I'm Superman with the wind at his back, she's Lois Lane"


The speaker appears to love the pain that's killing him because his girl always brings him back to life, and he loves that. Yes they have bad times, but they aren't bad enough to make him forget about the good times. These lines were problematic to me because this is the classic argument of some abused women. They don't want to leave because they keep remembering all of the good times shared with this other person. And at some point in the relationship pain becomes a pleasure.

Then comes the chorus which seems to "okay" these fights, as well, between the speaker and his girlfriend as Rihanna sings,

"Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie"

In essence the chorus says it's ok for the speaker to watch the woman suffer from physical and verbal pain because she actually enjoys it. This is not good. The woman condones the violence because she likes it.

And then comes the third verse, which completely changed my whole perspective of the song. In this verse, the speaker apologizes and recognizes that both of them are at fault:
"Now I know we said things, did things that we didn't mean
And we fall back into the same patterns, same routine
But your temper's just as bad as mine is
You're the same as me
But when it comes to love you're just as blinded"

I didn't really like this at first, because this mode of thinking does exactly what the lyrics say, puts this violent relationship back in a pattern of fight, forgive, fight and forgive, without improvement. So again, the speaker is seeming real apologetic, but then something happens. Towards the end of the verse, the speaker stops addressing his girlfriend and starts to speak as if she's not there. He goes from "I told you this is my fault, look me in the eyeball" to "I apologize even though I know its lies
I'm tired of the games I just want her back." A mental shift occurs. Then he goes into this crazy rant,
"I know I'm a liar/If she ever tries to fucking leave again/Im'a tie her to the bed/ and set this house on fire/I'm just gonna . .

"

To me, by the end of the song, the speaker shows that he's crazy, a certified lunatic if you will, and that he hasn't changed. At this point, the speaker reiterates that no matter how many times an abusive person apologizes, he or she hasn't changed. The bad behaviors are still there.

When the chorus comes back in, it becomes evident to me that Rihanna's voice represents how women lie to themselves to help them believe the lies of an abusive man. And if you keep reading into what is being said, the woman sounds crazy saying "I love the way you lie." Who, in their right mind, loves the way a person lies to them? Nobody, but when a person is in an abusive relationship, that's kinda what they tell themselves. For example, when a man says, "Honey, I'm sorry and I'll never do it again," and a woman believes this, in essence she is saying, "I love the way you lie to me," completely blind to what she's accepting.

Whew! I did all of this off of the lyrics, before I even saw the video. I love this song, but unfortunately, I don't think people are going to listen to the lyrics to understand how deep it is and to understand that neither Eminem nor Rihanna are glorifying domestic violence. And the hook is so catchy that you can sing it without even thinking about what you're saying and convince yourself that lies are good. I mean, it's not the artists' fault that most people don't think, so I don't feel that they should've made their song easier to understand or dumbed it down. Hopefully this song will open up opportunities for people to discuss domestic violence and maybe save someone's life.

It's interesting to see this collaboration between Eminem with his violent past, both lyrically and actually, and Rihanna as a victim of a recent violent relationship.

SN: I like the video. Especially the symbolism of the female playing with fire, but I don't like how the video ends. I like the idea of ending with the house burning and then possibly fade to black versus the couple cuddling. Maybe the video comes full circle, closing the way it opens, to show the cycle perpetuated in these types of relationships. I dunno, but I still appreciate it.

On Second Thought . . .

Earlier I published a post titled "Wake County Protesters, You Picked the Wrong Battle." I criticized the NAACP and other community leaders for protesting against the end of the diversity policy in Wake County schools. It was hard for me to be up in arms about what's going on in Wake when I've taught in a racially segregated school for the past 5 years. I found it to be a little hypocritical for me to be upset.

But on second thought, what's going on in Wake is a tragedy. Anytime you blatantly say you want to end a diversity policy--not make revisions, adjustments, nor improvements--but end it, it looks really bad and racist. If the diversity policy is taken away, it will create schools for the haves and the have nots. It will create difficult learning environments for the have nots because more complex social issues will be overly represented, teacher turn-over rates will probably be higher, and the current academic progress will probably take a turn for the worse.

However, I do think changes need to be made to the diversity policy; some of the opposers' arguments are valid. The hour long bus rides and the constant switching of schools to balance the population are two of the biggest issues that I hear the most. I live in Southeast Raleigh, and the students who live in my neighborhood are supposed to attend Apex High School. They have to ride past Southeast East Raleigh HS, which is walking distance from us, everyday to head to Apex. I guess diversity comes with a cost.

All in all, taking away the integration plan is going backwards rather than forwards. The benefits of the policy do outweigh the costs. C'mon Wake County. I really need you to get it together.

As Easy As Riding a Bike!?!

When's the last time you rode a bike? Was it easy? OMG I rode my bike one day last summer, trying to get my Lance Armstrong on, and my buttocks was sore for a week. It felt like I had bruised something. It hurt so bad I had to wait a week to ride again.

I figured I needed a new bike seat, but I didn't want to buy one. So I rigged my seat with a hand towel and scotch tape (I couldn't find the electrical tape). This worked temporarily; however, it was very uncomfortable.

I did a lil research and invested in this wide gel cushioned seat. It made a huge difference! But--there was still some soreness.

Just this past weekend, KB and I went to ride bikes and while I was riding, I was very comfortable, but the next day, I had mild soreness. Riding a bike isn't supposed to hurt. I don't remember pain in my childhood memories of riding up and down my dirt road.

On my way home today, I stopped by REI, an outdoor sports store, and looked for padded biker shorts. I had heard about them from somebody. These shorts have gel cushioned pads in the seat of the shorts. When I tried them on, they felt extremely awkward, but I was determined to ride my bike pain free.

Well, I just got in from a two mile ride and it was great!! Zero discomfort and I don't anticipate being sore tomorrow.

One New Post Once a Week

My goal, starting today, is to write at least one new post per week. Every year I slack off once school gets started and then pick up over the summer. But, if I start a once-a-week routine, maybe I can keep it during the school year--we'll see.

Wake County Protesters-You've Picked the Wrong Battle

Two days ago, a member of the NAACP and 3 community supporters were arrested at a school board meeting in Wake County for taking more than their allotted time during a peaceful protest. While I appreciate their efforts, I believe there's something bigger that they need to be protesting!

I'm not sure if you've been paying attention, but the Wake County Board of Education is making national headlines. For those that don't know, the Wake school board has voted to end its busing policy which attempts to integrate and diversify schools using income. No school should have more than 40% with free or reduced lunch (even though there are a few schools which are out of compliance).

I believe in the need for diversity (even though I’m not a fan of Brown vs. Board or its implementation): economic, political, racial, religious, etc. But in reference to our current educational status, I feel the most pressing issue is quality of education, not diversity. Regardless of where the students attend school and who is sitting next to them, the students deserve an equal opportunity to receive a sound basic education.

For the record, look at Wake’s high schools’ current EOC scores (click on a high school, look to the right hand column, click on 2008-2009 NC School Report Cards, click on High Student Performance tab, and scroll down to Performance of Each Student Group on the ABCs End-of-Course Tests). There is a huge gap in performance between white students and minorities at almost every high school. Now, there has been growth over the past few years, but there is still a sizeable difference in performance (I don’t believe that test scores are the end-all-be-all to student performance, but I’ll use this data for the sake of making my argument). These numbers come after 10 years of this busing policy.

With the current busing system, something I’d like to know is what percentage of minority students are enrolled in the honors, AP/IB courses? Once students enter these somewhat diverse schools, how diverse are the classrooms? How diverse is the selection of authors and books chosen to be read? How diverse are the teaching methods used to deliver instruction?

While voting to end the diversity policy in favor of having community based, racially homogenized schools is blatantly racist to me (which is why I believe we didn’t get the race to the top funding), the bigger issue is this: Are our students learning regardless of where they attend?

So, I challenge the NAACP president, William Barber, along with all of the community supporters, to turn their attention to the numbers, to the curriculum, to the quality of education our students are receiving. Get arrested because the minority students aren’t learning like their white counterparts.

AMENds in 2010!

Sometimes the present is a gift I wish I could return,

But God gifts us lessons that we need to learn--

We earn or we should at least--

Our lives are on lease.

Everything that happens to us happens for a reason.

We come in and out of different seasons.

At times it’s the result of our own bad decisions.

We forget the earlier lessons taught

And get caught by a foot fault,

Stepping on lines and having to pay heavy fines,

But it’s okay because my life is Purposed by His Design!

Even the things that occur that are out of my control

I rest assured because He’s in control.

Parts of me are dying everyday

Just to be Reborn in God’s way.

The past isn’t meant to be left behind-

’08 will forever resonate in my mind.

In ’09 I lost a life line.

But He gives me hope in tomorrow and

His presence is my present--for today is a gift.

God loves me more than any friend

And promises to make Amends in 20-10!

Nation's Capital, Here We Come!

Our women's basketball team is invited to play in the Inaugural National Title IX Holiday Conference (NTHICC) in the nation's capital. We were chosen as one of eight teams nationally because our basketball program places a strong emphasis on STUDENT athlete. While in DC, we'll get a tour of the White House, and supposedly tournament hosts are trying to get First Lady Michelle Obama to be one of the guest speakers. I hope it works out. Either way, when we get to the White House, I'm taking about ten copies of my resume and accidentally leaving them all over the place.

In Constant Battle With Yourself

Regardless of a person's level of intelligence, wealth, or age, we all struggle with decision making. Why is it so hard to make the right choice at all times? Sometimes I feel as if I'm having an out of body experience. I look back at a situation and find myself saying, "Did I really just do that?" or "I can't believe I just said that! What in the world was I thinking?" It's as if it wasn't even me talking or carrying out that particular action; it was somebody else.

Sometimes it seems as if we're in a constant battle against ourselves for the control of our own mind. It's as if our real self takes a nap, only to wake up right after that other self has made a stupid decision. Now the real self has to suffer the consequences. And then we're left thinking, "What in the hell just happened?!?" (see Tiger Woods, Mark Sanford, Kanye West)

Unfortunately, this "coma-like" state can last for weeks, months, even years for some people, before they come back to their senses. By that time, they may have lived a life that they never intended.

As a child many of our mishaps are chalked up to being young or inexperienced, but what's the excuse when we grow up and become adults? What is it that causes these laps in judgement? What is it that makes people wander about in a conscious yet unconscious state of mind? If you know someone who is currently living with this state of mind, what can you do to help them to come back to reality to see again? How can we counteract moments of blindness to prevent decisions that can negatively affect us forever?

Insert Foot in Mouth

Most of my friends and family know me to be quite the comedian. I love to make people laugh and smile. However, sometimes I pick the wrong time to be funny.

Case in point-yesterday in class one of my students was selling snacks out of his book bag. I have gotten on to him several times, even confiscated the goods a few, for doing this during my class/at school.

I said," Shawn**, I'ma start calling you hustle man. You always trying to sell something!"

He replied, "I like that name. I know somebody else by that name who stands on the corner." Another student decided to chime in and said, "I know that dude too! Is he light skin with curly hair?"

Now it just so happens that this young man has light skin and curly hair, so he was setting his self up, in my book. Therefore me and my quick wit self replied in a joking manner, "Oh, so that's yo daddy?!?"

Erebody in the class started laughing. The students started saying, "Oooooooo! Ms. B just slayed you!" and "Ms. B. killing today!" I mean it was funny, but I felt really bad. The student looked extremely embarrassed and appeared to be concocting a come back. I needed class to proceed because we had just started. So I immediately started talking, pleading while he seemed to be gathering his thoughts , "I'm sorry, so sorry. Thank you Pete** for being the bigger person and not responding. You're better than me. I'm being mean today. Thanks for not slaying me back." He looked like he wanted to say something so bad, but he didn't. I was proud of him. And class moved on.

Ironically, I had a conference with his aunt that afternoon. So I'm at the conference trying to discuss a success plan for him, and she tells us that Pete's mother died when he was younger and that he had been staying with his grandmother. Now she, the aunt was his caregiver. No mention of his father.

Felt real bad after hearing this. The joke in and of itself wasn't that bad, but now knowing what he's been through, it just wasn't a good idea. So today when he came to class, I pulled him outside and we had a talk about how I wanted him to be successful and what it would take for him to pass my class. I asked him for his goals in life and he said he didn't have any. Monday he's supposed to give me one short term goal and one long term goal.

I can't take back the comment I made in jest, but I can help him move forward in a positive direction.

**Names changed

Out of Academic Shape

Within the 90 min block, I plan several different activities so that we don't spend too much time doing one thing, which helps diverse learners and keeps their attention longer. Time also goes faster when you stay busy. But in order to be able to complete all of the assignments, one has to be "in shape," ready to handle the academic, mental workout. I had never thought about this before, until this past Friday.

This past Friday, my second period started complaining about doing work. It wasn't everybody, just a few. Every once in a while, my students would say, "Can we just have free time?" or "Do we have to do this?" My normal response to this type of questioning is, "I'm sorry yall. I didn't mean to make you do work. My bad. I thought this was school!" Most of the time they start laughing, remember "Oh yeah. This is school," and then get back to work.

However, on this day, a light bulb went off for me: my sophomore students are out of shape--not physical shape, but academic. Some students are not used to working for 90 mins and become agitated and ill when asked to do so. It's just like an athlete at basketball practice ( I love sports analogies). When a ball player is out of shape, the last thing she wants to do is run sprints or suicides. She may whine,complain, or become attitudinal about having to run because she is already tired. But the only way to get better at it is to practice, and we all know how some athletes feel about practice: "This is practice . . . not a game--practice!" ~Allen Iverson.

Well the same thing goes for a student. Learning is tiring. It's physical and mental work. So the next time my students complain about doing work, I'm not going to think that they are just being lazy or unmotivated. I'm going to chalk it up to them being out of shape, and needing a little more encouragement to keep going--learning.

Getting "In the Way" of The Truth

A couple of months ago I read a Daily Bread devotional entitled "Getting 'In the Way.'" Looking at the title, I thought it was possibly going to be about things that get in the way of us serving God. But, it was about God being the way and if you are to follow Him, then you are in the way. I thought the title and message were very deep.

I also liked the scripture reading, John 14:1-6. Verse six really stood out to me: "I am the way and the truth and the life." The Truth. God is The Truth. I've read that before, but this time it really stood out to me.

This year I'm recommitting myself to The Truth, living it, loving it, and speaking it. I wanted something to remind me to live in The Truth everyday. So I came up with the idea of a Truth ring. I bought a sterling silver ring and had "The Truth" etched into it. I wear it everyday as a reminder to get "in the way."

God Bless!

Let's Get, Get, Get it!!

Wow!! Summer break is over and I can hardly believe we're starting a new school year. Unlike the last few years, I am ready to return to teaching. I really can't put my finger on it, but something in my spirit is telling me that this is going to be my school's defining year. We are going to be doing Big Thangs!! I just can't contain my excitement.

At the same time, however, it's kinda scary. It's like starting a new relationship--feeling like this could work out, but having second thoughts because you don't want to be hurt again. Have you ever been there before? You're a little hesitant to enjoy the moment or to have high expectations because, emotionally, you just can't afford another let down, another heartbreak.

At any rate, I'm going to lower my guard and not allow those negative thoughts to keep me from enjoying this feeling while it lasts. I'm committed to making my 5th year my best year.

GO HORNETS!!!

What's worse, lying to others or lying to yourself?

I just finished reading The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton. Towards the end, the main character, Ponyboy, lies to himself to avoid the truth of a very tragic situation. He believes himself on the surface; however, subconsciously he knows what really happened. Ponyboy carries on with his family as if his lies are reality, until his eventual awakening at the very end.

This book got me to thinking in a broader sense. What's worse, lying to others or lying to yourself? Does it make it worser (I know, not a real word) when you believe your own lies? I'm curious to know what you think.