Life on a Chair

My life can now be summed up in a chair.

It sounds strange, but the main events, my core beliefs, and advice I'd want to leave behind to my children and students are now on a wooden chair. This has been one of my summer projects.  Take a look:

The chair is covered with encouraging and
inspirational words and phrases like:
Be yourself, Create, Explore, Laugh, Play,
Appreciate, Imagine, Choose Joy,
Inspire, Ask Questions, and many more.

"Everyone has a story to share...and deserves a happy ending."

"You have the power to say that this is not
how the story will end."

Each circle represents a school that I attended or have taught in
from my kindergarten year in 1975 until the present.  Whew! There
is only one rung in the chair left, so I guess I won't be
changing schools much more. :)

The back of the chair includes things a bit more
personal. Here you can see the birth dates of my children, other
significant dates, and my Etch-a-Sketch.  

I have a sunset with five clouds. These represent the five
students I've had in class over the years that have died. 

"The greatest of these is Love"

I love this. It was inspired by having to paint and repaint and
REPAINT a big goof on another part of the chair.

I love playing Scrabble! 

I'll use it as an Author's Chair or for our Show Time (a fun story telling time) in my classroom. It will surely be a conversation piece at times that may lead to deep discussions about things that are truly important.

I had another one I used for about ten years.  It was similar in style and design but it didn't have any words on it.  My daughter and her friend helped me paint it when she was in first grade.  After having to glue it back together for about a year, I retired it to storage. I'm hoping that all the coats of polyurethane on this one will help it last until I am the one that gets to be retired. :)

A Lesson from the Etch-a-Sketch

   Years ago, I was sick and spent a couple weeks in a hospital. When the little cart came by with magazines and books to borrow, I was drawn to the Etch-a-Sketch on the bottom shelf and asked if I could borrow that instead. I hadn't picked up one since childhood, but I spent many, many hours over the next few days getting the hang of it again and finding an artistic challenge within that red box.

   I found I got an immense amount of satisfaction out of making those baby steps go up and then back down. Once I figured out the up/down and left/right with the knobs, I automatically started trying harder things, like circles and my name in cursive. I had to stop to smile, giggle a bit, then grunt in frustration, and stop to shake the crazy thing a bunch of times along the way.  But I was one of the weird people that stuck with it. Within days, the shapes became realistic pictures. I'd sit back and stare for a moment, find every flaw and place I should have improved it, but I eventually became brave enough to share. I soon had nurses and other patients looking over my shoulder offering advice :) and asking what was my next one going to be like.

   Over the next couple years, I tried to go from simple to more complex drawings and illustrations. I studied the artwork of Etch's great George Vlosich III and others to gain hints to the craft.  I improved and sold a few. I donated a couple in charity auctions. I gave many away to friends and one year every student in my class got one if they just brought an Etch-a-Sketch in with a picture they wanted on it.  I found myself very busy on weekends doing sketches of their pet dogs, school mascots, and even Hannah Montana. I don't get the toy out much any more unless it's for some overdue relaxation or a special gift. I always have one close by, though.

   Some days, as I work and dream of the future of my school and community,  I feel like I'm back to those first sketching days again.  I'm taking my baby steps and figuring out which directions to go. I see that the path isn't going where I think it should and I have to stop, shake it and start all over again. Then there are times when the picture becomes a bit clearer, and I keep going. Something exciting develops. I sit back, evaluate, and sometimes become brave enough to share a bit of the vision with those close to me.

   I find it incredibly exciting when they want to know what is coming next and they want to help describe what the final picture may look like.

Breaking the Paper Clip Mold

For years I think I've had it all wrong.

I'm always looking for a better paper clip.  When it comes to ideas to help the students in my classroom and school, I'm in constant search of ways to make things better.  My philosophy, like so many in education, has been to take a look at what "successful schools and teachers" are doing, then tweak it to make it work for my students and school. How can I make their ideas, projects, or programs work here?  I love what I see in their book, on the screen and at the conference and want to try it myself.

That doesn't sound bad, now does it?  Isn't that one thing good teachers do?

Sure it is.  But I'm finding it is backward thinking for me.  It's a bit like clothes shopping without knowing what  your are shopping for and then buying something without trying it on first.  I need to know what I'm needing.  And just because it looks great on the mannequin, doesn't mean that is the way it will fit on you, too.

I spend much of my time away from school still thinking about school.  I find myself watching tv with my phone or laptop scrolling through education articles, educational ideas on Pinterest, Twitter posts from my favorite educational leaders, or reading blogs.  All of these are fine and  I don't plan on changing that, but my paradigm must change.  I am realizing that the journey to our success isn't going to be found "out there" in need to be found and purchased.  It's here, right now, within the creative teachers, staff and community volunteers we have.  We are the ones that know our students and community.  We know their needs.  We only need to be given the permission to try new things.

I know this is a big challenge for our school culture, structure, and perhaps a nightmare for leadership. It would be balancing what works with what could be, and designing something all your own.  But perhaps, we will find ourselves at the metaphorical customer service exchange line a little less often returning something we didn't really need or didn't fit but bought into just because it looked cool. I think it's time for me to break away from the paper clip mold.