Actions.

I've always been the firm believer that actions speak louder than words. In any problem or situation, I feel as though actions justify the things you say. They have no voice, but always speak.

I feel as though the same phrase can be translated to teaching. You may tell your students all you want that you love and care about them, but if you never do anything for them, then how will they know? If you never teach them, always give them an A+, never correct their wrong doings, how will they know that you care about them?

Teachers who simply give the students what they want will be run-over, and never respected. They become the friend, not the example.

Friday was such a great day.

With every day in teaching, the good always comes with the bad. This day was no different. Friday our English III classes decided to have a Navaho Indian speaker come to talk about their culture and way of living. (We had studied the Navaho Literature in our books). For the speaker, the students had a KWL chart to fill out (What do we Know? What do you Want to know? What have you Learned?)

The students were not excited about either part of this at the beginning of class. "Why do we have to go to the library?" "Why can't we just stay in here?" "wah, wah wah." Of course, with anything you do you will always hear complaining.

However, attitudes were much different coming out of the library than in the library. Walking around glancing at their papers, students were really learning so much about the Navaho culture from what this woman was saying. The majority of students were all listening and even asking their own questions!! Very good questions at that.

One student whispered to me, "Ms. Brandon, I don't have enough room to write in my learned column anymore."

Such a simple phrase, but one that makes a teacher feel so good. So many students yesterday I could see were really into what the woman was saying. What makes things even better is that by the time my fouth block came around, students had already started talking and my fourth block was so excited to go see the woman speak.

ACTIONS speak louder than words. When you show the students that you care and want them to learn, they recognize the difference.

After Hours.

I've heard before that teaching is a job that never ends. That it's never a 9-5 job and its something that goes with the territory of being a teacher.

It's so true.

It is a juxtapose between the grading of papers, after school activities, random reminders of what they may say in class..

Its a strange to think that these souls can affect you with their every day life by what their interests are.. their fun personalities.. quirky and funny comments.. their mere presence in my life makes such a difference..

they make me truly happy.

Out of all of my students, there is one so far that breaks my heart the most... We'll call her Christy. (That is not her name, but I need a name for this story).

Christy is a fragile girl.

Upon entering my classroom, Christy was simply a wreck. You could see in her eyes the fear of entering the room, The way her hands shook as she talked showed the frail, weak person she was. Even the trembling in her voice highlighted the emotional struggle within her own soul..

Christy was the type of girl you just want to save from all of her past. You just wished you could take her problems, throw them away, and show her the type of life you know she's never experienced.

I knew Christy was a part of the Girls Home. The Girls Home is a place where children who are taken by the state are put and taught life skills or received extensive therapy; sometimes both. Usually girls are taken by the state for one of two reasons: horrific family situations or they are troubled teens.

By the middle of the semester, I found the reasons why Christy was placed in the Girls Home. Many times throughout class Christy would give me bits and pieces of information about her life. Many were sad facts that simply broke your heart......

....."Ms. Brandon, look at my picture..."...."Who is that Christy?".... "This is me, my mom, and my sister...." "How old were you then?"..... "About 3 or 4."... "Well, that is such a sweet picture...When is the last time you saw your mom?...."Since this picture...I'm still trying to find them."

Through bits and scattered pieces, I found out more about Christy past. One day she walked in my classroom for 2nd block with tears filling her eyes. I found out her father had passed away. The Girls Home was not allowing her to even go to his funeral. She wanted closure of her dad's memory, but could not go. She cried for a few days about her father's passing which prompted more information. Christy's father was a horrific dad (in my opinion) who has left her emotional scarred for the rest of her life. Yet, in Christy's pure, innocent heart, she stated, "even though I hate what my dad has done to me, I still want to tell him goodbye."

Heart. Break.

Overall, I tend to never worry about students too much when I am away from school, but Christy is one that I think about often. I wonder how she is being treated by the people who live in the home. I wonder if she is being taken care of properly. I also worry that she has enough of the necessities of life and still can see the beauty in it.

Everytime I see Christy, I try to show her the beauty in life--that there are good people in this word.

The day that school let out for the holidays, Christy came into my classroom with something in her hand. It was a present for me. My heart was so humbled because I know this girl gives all she has just to get the bare minimum. I was so humbled? in awe? of what she had done for me.

Over the holidays, while everyone was with their families, my thoughts turned to Christy. This year my only wish was for her Christmas and New Years to be one where she felt loved.

I hope my wish came true.