I can finally breathe.

The school year has taken its last, long winding turn into the summer sun. The kids are gone. The grades are in. The room is packed up (well, not really), and I can finally relax.

This year seemed to last FOREVER. Longer even than my previous years teaching. Now that I have time to look back and reflect on how it went, I’m longing for a “do-over.”

My students were more than a handful this year, they were like a duffel bag of firecrackers, each full of their own opinion, swagger, and hormonally driven angst. I had to fight some of them every step of the way just so they’d see that what we did in that room was valuable. Some battles I won, some, I was beaten down, but at the end of the day I hope each of my students walked away with at least ONE lesson learned.

The last month or so of school, we read the novel, Monster, by Walter Dean Myers. In the novel, a sixteen-year-old boy was on trial for murder. I knew my students would be interested in the novel—strictly on the subject matter alone—but I didn’t know they’d LOVE it. To date, three books are “missing,” stolen by someone itching to take this masterpiece home with them. A stolen book, in a class full of self-proclaimed non-readers, is the highest compliment. So I was pleased not only that many of them told me, “that story is dope Miss,” but also because they could see themselves between the pages. For once they saw themselves and a world that looked like theirs reflected in a book. And that made my heart smile. To see them so deeply engrossed in the book, they yelled when we had to stop, lifted my spirits. But it also made me wonder how differently the year might have gone had I included more books like these in my class? Would they have listened more? Would they have tried harder? Would they have not gotten into that fight? These are the questions I struggle with as I run this year back through my mind over and over again.

If I could do this year over again (and lords knows, I don’t wanna!) I’d pick better books. I’d focus on building a family, before we building perfect sentences, and I’d make sure to celebrate their every achievements—no matter how small. If I had it to do over again, I’d be their biggest cheerleader and critic, pulling no punches and not just pacifying them because I’m tired, or not into it, or feeling lazy to fight. If I had to do over again, I’d work a little smarter, not harder, saving my energy for what really counts—them.

This year is officially over, so there’s no going back. What I can do, however, is think about the issues, my battles and victories and do better next school year. Even though today is over, everyday offers you an opportunity to do it over.



What do you wish you could do over?
How will you improve on what you did today to make tomorrow truly GREAT?

I'm a restless soul. What can I say? I'm a Gemini. Sometimes I get so absorbed in a project or idea and I'm working on it like a maniac till like 3 or 4 in the morning, and other times, I don't give it a second thought. That's how I was with this blog. I blog in spurts, but I know I should do better (have you noticed? I've been trying!). I know that I have certain goals in life. I want to write, but I hardly carve out enough time to just sit down and do it. That must change.

I stumbled upon Aliya King's blog the other day, and it came at the right time. You see, she's a writer/journalist and she doles out TONS of great advice/inspiration to those of us starting out in the writing game. Although I'm not starting out, I did go to school for this, I haven't taken advantage of every opportunity I've had. When I think back at where I could have been had I hustled a bit harder, I want to kick myself. But as my mother always says, there's no sense crying over spilled milk, so I'm moving forward.

Although it looks like I'll really be jobless come June 30th, I'm not worried. Through a short twitter discussion with my girl, Mdot, I realize this is just giving me the space to SEIZE the opportunities I've been neglecting. I want to write, and now with more time on my hands (sans job & with unemployment check in hand), I'll have time to write. I've been talking about releasing a collection of poetry for YEARS, and have just never done the work. I have the poems, sitting, waiting, but I haven't put them together. I will work on pulling it together this summer. I'm also going to see what I can get into on the web. I've already made contact with a few popular sites to do guest pieces, and to my surprise, they're open. So I'm going to roll with it. Even though it would be SO easy, I'm not going to complain about losing my job. Instead, I'm going to be open to all the opportunities that will come my way, and embrace them.



What have you been neglecting that you REALLY want to do?
When are you going to stop wanting to do it, and just do it?
(let's encourage each other!)

Last week, Saturday made himself welcome in my bedroom. Blood orange suit clinging to the corners of my eyes. I rose, energized and welcomed the sun to my private party. Born day # 29 began slow-like you always want Saturday to be.

Savored it. Went for a walk, just because there’s no better way to kick off a birthday than to get the blood pumping. When I got home, my little son sang his birthday wishes.

“Happy birthday to mommeeeeee, happy birthday to yooooooou, happy birthday to mommeeeee! Now, let’s eat cake!”

He was so pleased with himself. He’d been practicing the song for weeks, usually singing it to himself in preparation for his birthday, 6 months away. His infectious smile made me laugh, and he gave me my present: lots and lots of juicy birthday kisses.

I didn’t have any special plans for my birthday. Choosing, instead, to celebrate it with my family enjoying the breezy, bright Saturday afternoon. We had lunch, strolled around the Grove looking in store windows, watched the koi swim in the pond, and tried to keep my little one from going in after them. Relaxing.

Birthdays demand reflection. I spent Saturday, and the ensuing long Memorial day weekend, being thankful for all that I have been blessed with. Yes, my life isn’t perfect. My beloved is locked up and will be gone for 9 more summers and I might be unemployed by the end of June, but I have my health, my life, and my beautiful son who is somehow able to put a smile on my face even when I’m in the midst of the deepest funks.

Lincoln once wrote, “In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.” I’m trying to live every single day to its fullest and appreciate all that I’ve been blessed with because for some, their years have run out.

Tomorrow, I will attend a funeral for a woman I’ve known for over 10 years. She’s been a mentor to me, especially during my teaching years. For over 40 years she dedicated her life to educating little brown girls and boys before it was cut short Monday night. When someone so loving, supporting, and down right fun passes unexpectedly, it forces me to be thankful. I am more thankful for everything, especially every woman in my life that has molded me into the mommy, teacher and woman I am today.

Kujichagulia: To define ourselves, name ourselves, create for ourselves and speak for ourselves.


(no images, just audio ~ black star "K.O.S." ~enjoy)

day 2 of Kwanzaa is dedicated to self-determination, or defining one's self in spite of what others may say or think of you. self-determination and defining one's self is, arguably, the purpose of life. once we are able to create our own authentic identities for ourselves and by ourselves, i argue that we, as individuals and a people, will have achieved true freedom. it's like being able to be your own boss, and basking in how freeing that can be. but with that freedom comes immense responsibility. let's not take it, or ourselves, for granted.

"The fire's in my eyes and the flames need fanning
With that what? Knowledge Of Self, Determination"

peace.