A Snapshot of My Professional Life

Here's a look at a weekly log I wrote for one of my internship professors. I am currently working for Blount County Schools as a traveling (aka "itinerant") teacher for deaf and hard of hearing students. I have 8 students at 7 different schools spread out all throughout the county. It really is a fantastic job for someone who loves books on tape :)
Enjoy!

Overall, this week went very smoothly, I learned a lot, and again enjoyed the flexibility that this internship brings. I have gotten down a schedule and am learning how to get from school to school by heart. I have a lot of fun with my students, and overall really enjoy this style of teaching!

            I think one of the reasons this job is so much less stressful, compared to my last two internships, is because I am the one who keeps myself accountable for my own actions. In a sense, it really is a blessing to not have a mentor because I can make decisions for myself. While I learned so much from both of my mentors in my past two internships, and am extremely grateful for them, it is nice to have a little bit more flexibility to make last-minute decisions and not feel guilty for changing the lesson plan. This internship has definitely given me a taste of freedom, even just two weeks in, and I am glad to have it during my third and final placement.

            I continue to learn each and everyday on the job. One of the main lessons I’ve learned these past two weeks is what you are taught in university about how a classroom functions, and what happens behind the scenes, and how administrators are big, bad wolves is very different from what I have perceived to happen in “the real world”. For example, I didn’t learn in the university setting how to deal with a child who grabs your face when he’s excited. I didn’t learn that deaf high schoolers like to work one-on-one with teachers and other professionals because it gives them a time to easily communicate with someone who understands their first language. I didn’t learn that classroom teachers of CDC students will sometimes have a child have a toilet-related accident while the teacher is holding the child. I didn’t learn that if you have a question about something, there probably is a specialist who can answer your question in her sleep because she knows the answer so well. Each day is a learning experience; I learn not only about my position as an itinerant teacher, but I learn about my students as well. I find myself really engaging and connecting with my students during our 30 or 45 minutes we share together.

            Lastly, I really enjoy the flexibility this internship brings! One day, I finished with my students a little earlier than usual, and didn’t have very much paperwork to do back at Central Office, so I decided to use my time wisely and go gather materials. I went to the Knox County Public Library and began to peruse the shelves for a book about the Civil War, and architecture, and turkeys; all for my students. I asked the children’s librarian if they had any books for kids that had pictures of signers in the books. She showed me a section, and then asked if she could help with anything else. I ended up picking her brain and getting materials and books from her for about thirty minutes! For the remainder of the week I was very excited to teach my students because I had useful and valuable resources that were connected to 1) their interests and 2) what they were learning in the classroom. Had I been a classroom teacher, I really don’t think I would have had time in my day to go to the library and talk with the librarian, and in turn find some great materials for my students. It is this type of “unusual” activities that I really enjoy about this internship/job.

I feel like this hearing specialist position is something that resonates with me. I feel like I am able to use some of my passion for books and English and apply it to almost anything my students are learning. I also feel like I can apply my personal educational background of being homeschooled with this internship because I am able to do many hands-on things with my students. Most of all, I love the flexibility to educate these students—most of whom has severe deficits in reading, writing, and language/communication—in a way that supports my personal philosophy of education. I feel much more comfortable working with students one-on-one because I believe each student is an individual who learns in his/her own way. I was really overwhelmed at MHS trying to educate 18-24 individual students per class period. I was taught in a one-on-one setting from my mom, and of course you teach how you were taught, so it makes sense that I am more comfortable, and happier, to teach my students one-on-one. I am seriously considering a future career as a hearing specialist, as opposed to a classroom teacher, which I had pretty much scratched off my list of possible future jobs. 

To Love the Unloved

Someone asked me the other day "Oh what do you do for work?" and I told them I work at a halfway house. Most people nod their heads and with a confused tone-of-voice say "Oh okay...like social work...?" And I explain my 35 second elevator speech of what it is that I do and who the women are that I care for.

However, today I had a different thought. I had a thought to tell the next person who asks me what I do "I care for and love women who don't necessarily want my love. They don't necessarily want it, but they need it so desperately. More than that, they need to love of Christ that has redeemed me and has given me a second chance at life." That is what popped into my head.

Theater lovers, picture this:
     The scene? A house full of 10-14 women (the numbers and faces change all the time) of women from rough, rough backgrounds. From broken homes; from traumatic lives; from chaos.
     Their appearance? They are overweight. They are underweight. Some are so tough and rough that you think you might get a scratch from bumping into them while you walk. Some are so broken and emotional that you feel like their skin is one giant band-aid keeping all the pain in their heart on the inside.
     Their costumes? Most of them wear white tee-shirts with their last names written across the top of them when they first come to the house. Then, their wardrobe evolves to pajama pants and oversized tee-shirts that boast the local sports teams. After a little while, they rummage through out clothing closet (full of beautiful clothes donated by our volunteers) and find outfits about five times too small. Most people can pull off outfits about three sizes too small, but these women choose clothes that are obviously painful to wear. They like the flashy stuff; zebra stripes, and hot pink, and black with sequences. I swear, this past Friday night, all I could see was hot pink, sequences, and titties everywhere. You have to understand, these are clothes that others have given away; they have deemed them unworthy to be worn any more, they have been put off to the side. It is almost appropriate that the women wear clothes that are second hand, that have been cast off, yet have some good wear in them, and have some luster, once you wash them off a little. These women are just like the clothes they wear. They have been cast off. They have been straight-up, flat-out told that they are not good enough, they are not beautiful enough, they aren't wanted, and they need to go somewhere else to get their act together. Do you ever wonder where people go to get their acts together? I don't. Because they come here, to the halfway house. First they go to jail because they haven't been able to get their acts together, and then they bounce around from one rehab program to the next, hopefully land up at a halfway house, and occasionally get themselves thrown back in jail.

Even after I describe to inquiring people where it is I work, I rarely tell them what it is I do: I love the unloved. Many of these women are my same age, yet we are worlds different. One woman is 29 years old and she has a 3 month old grandson and five children. I can't even imagine. She actually is my favourite and she even has the same name as one of my sisters. This woman is so remarkable to me, and yet still such a mystery. She is half black and half white, and two of her children are half Mexican. She speaks fluent Spanish, can turn on the black girl sass like no other, and also speaks my same dialect. It's amazing. You see, this woman has learned how to adapt. In linguistics we call it "code-switching" which means being able to take on the characteristics and speech patterns of more than one linguistic community. With these linguistic communities there is culture, and that is what must be code-switched. In her world, she doesn't code-switch--she survives in whatever way she knows how. When she first came, she was so gruff, and rude, and had a stone for a heart. She was hurting and her life was a mess and she knew it. Pretty much on a daily basis, we would get into some type of verbal argument. The only thing worse than an argument? The cold shoulder. Wow. When you are in a residential setting and you see someone every time you round the corner and they are giving you the silent treatment, woo, things get tense really fast! I had talked with my boss and with the case manager and we didn't know what to do with her because punishments weren't working.
     I remember one other time in my life when a fellow teammate of mine just hated me! She gave me the silent treatment, she made my life miserable, she always stole the ball from me and made me look bad on the courts. I remember telling my mom "I just don't know what to do! I've asked her what's wrong, I've tried to be kind to her, I've tried to play tough with her, and she is just mean!" My mom said that I needed to pray for her. More specifically, every time she did something that made my blood boil, my mom said I should repeat in my head "I love you, ." I thought it was ridiculous and wasn't going to work, but it did. I prayed for all my teammates, but I prayed extra hard for her. I even prayed she would get asked out by the guy she liked at the time (...oh high school...ha! that meant I was praying really, really nice prayers for her ha!). After about a month of her giving me the silent treatment, and me praying for her and repeating "I love you, ", I started to hate her less and less. I'm not going to say that I ever loved her, but the stress and anger towards her was completely gone. That crazy experience stuck with me, and I remembered the peace I was given by the Lord for choosing to love this teammate. 
      While I was having a difficult time with LMNOP, at the halfway house, I remembered how well my prayers and love worked back in high school. From the second week this woman moved into the house, I began praying for her and repeating in my head "I love you, " whenever she cast a hateful glance, or teased or belittled me. In time, this woman has made an amazing transformation. I cannot even describe how hurt and tough this woman was when she first came. Now, she has changed her wardrobe, she has changed her life, and most of all, she has changed her heart. I give God all the credit for this one, because I would have never thought that I could even love this woman. But God saw beyond that. Now, we are pals. She gives me driving directions, we cook food for each other, she tells me what parts of town to avoid and how I should look after myself, and I tell her which stores have sales, and how to make her buck stretch the furthest. It's amazing, it truly is, to think that a jailbird is someone I respect. 
     Loving people who don't always want to be loved, but who need to be loved, is a tough job. There are days when I shed tears of frustration, and of sorrow for all these women go through. However, it is so rewarding when you get a turn-around from someone who used to make your work environment super stressful, and now brings laughter to the house. The thing is, you have to reach out and be intentional. Even if you feel like "Oh they don't want to talk to me so why waste my breath?" you even saying "I hope you had a good day at work today" when they walk in the door may make them feel cared for. I have learned that people who don't want to be loved don't want to answer questions, so I talk to them, I don't really ask them questions. I don't ask "Did you have a good day at work?" because all they will say is "Alright" and walk away. But if you say "I hope you had a good day at work", they look at you, and think for a second, and then walk away. They sometimes smile and nod too...but not most of the time.

This song is my prayer today:

Far Away...To the Island in Our Blue Bay

With all the uncertainty in my futurer about where to live, where to work, when to get married, and how to pay the bills, all I know is that an island in our blue bay far away sounds really, really enticing today.

It may also be because of this hot, sunny weather that we've been enjoying for the past three months or so here in E. TN. I dread the sight of falling leaves, because it means the cold is coming to get me! Autumn is nice, and 60 degrees is nice, and hammocking all cuddled up in blankets is nice, but...then...winter comes and that is not nice. At all. I don't know how my sister will survive her first winter away from Southern California...because she's in Pittsburg! Yikes!

Praising the Lord in the midst of all these future uncertainties, and praising Him for the lovely apartment I have now, and for all of the SO many blessings He has given to me! Like a car! (A mini cooper, to be exact.) He is good. He is in control.
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And He is the one who makes those islands in blue bays far away.

Oh How He Loves Us

This song has popped into my head twice today, actually. The first time was because I was looking at my engagement ring and I thought to myself "Every time I see this ring I just think of how much he loves me." And then the Holy Spirit brought the though into my head "Oh how He loves you! How much greater does God love you than Aaron loves you?"

The second time I started singing it was while I was sitting on the front porch of the halfway house where I work. I am on staff, and get paid, but I feel like this place has become my second home. I used to live here full time when I was the live-in house monitor, and then it really was my home. But now, it is my second home. The atmosphere is not always the most peaceful...to put it mildly. There are many ups and downs in the women's lives that really effect them throughout the day. When they come home elaited or in a grouchy mood, it shows and you can feel a shift in the atmosphere of the house. Anyways, while the women were at a NA meeting, I have the house to myself for 1 hour. Do you know how rare 1 hour is in my little universe right now? One hour of me time? Of time to sit on the porch, eat chocolate pie that the volunteers from local churches bring, and to watch the cows graze across the roadway? Well...I get two hours of it a week. It was during that one hour tonight that I sang, out loud, the song Oh How He Loves Us. I felt the Holy Spirit wash over me in an instant and felt surrounded by peace and by God's love.

Totally the weirdest music video...but the music is beautiful. And the words are true. And for that, I am eternally thankful!

"Hurry Up and Wait"

"Hurry up and wait" was a phrase my drama director always used to say. She'd say "The whole business of the theater is 'hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait'." I totally agree, and if you've even tried out for a play or musical, you would probably agree too.

Now, in this new chapter of life, I am to wait. To wait for a new home, life, last name, and even a new job.

I found this quote on one of my fellow blogger's pages today, and thought it totally fitting.

"It is not easy… to wait. Waiting is what the hunter does, and the poet and the slugger. He waits for the moment of inevitability and fate and then he swings, or shoots, or takes up the pen to put down a line. They don’t teach us to wait in America; they teach us to grab. But waiting is what we do when we are looking for something beautiful, when we are looking for an end to our sorrow. Nothing is infinite in life, not even sorrow.  Cary Tennis"


Another amazing quote from Charles Stanley: 

Engaged!

The title says it all, folks. Yep, I'm engaged!

Watch this video for the full story.

Hero

I had a summer school professor who taught high school English for her day job, and then was a PhD professor at UT by evening. She said she did a study in her class on heroes. I took a class my freshman year at CBU when I was in their honours program and it was called "The Study of the Epic Hero". Since it was a Christian school, we studied Biblical heroes as well as literary heroes. For some reason, I love heroes. I mean, isn't that what you are supposed to do? Love the hero and hate the villain? Last weekend I saw "Spiderman" (the new one) and loved it! Why? Its about a hero! Peter Parker is a convincing hero who is a-less-than-average high school boy who has an interesting past and a mystified future once he gets bitten by the spider.
A hero.

Jesus. A hero.

Randomly, this song popped into my mind this morning. I think I heard it on the radio once or twice before, but today the line "there he goes, a hero" were rolling around and around in my mind like marbles shifting across the deck of a topsy-turvy boat and leaving their wet-marks behind.

How is Jesus a hero?