Running Write

Will She Remember?

2011-08-31T20:16:00.005-04:00

"In the happiest of our childhood memories, our parents were happy, too." ~Robert Brault

Will Lydia remember
the summers of childhood
when she climbed her favorite tree,
waved to passing cars,
squished berries between her fingers,
and danced barefoot among the clover?

When she wore her raggedy Sketchers,
saving the new ones for "going out"
and old Scooby Doo shirt
while talking to imaginary friends in the tree.

When she tap danced on a stump in the yard-
Her rhythm following that of the birds and bees
that were so alive around her.
Pointing out Cardinals, her favorite red bird, to me
as I rocked on the porch
and her daddy sat lounging on the swing.

Will she remember the nest of tiny sparrows
on our comfortable front porch and the wet lick
of her favorite dog's kiss?

Will she remember painting and planting and plucking?
Garden vegetables that she grew and cooked and ate
that were so yummy.
Or her feet buried in the sand and grit of her own sandbox?
What about our "pic-a-nics" at noon under our shade tree?
Or shimmy to the top of the pole…
"Look at me Mommy and Daddy!"
We looked but flinched to see her so high.

Will she remember the "ooch-ouch" song we sang when crossing
hot gravel to the cool, soft grass, wet from hours
of sprinkler fun in the sun?
Backyard BBQs and kids running everywhere.
Laughter with friends and catching fireflies at dark.

Will she remember me poking holes in the jar and then laughing so hard
when her new friends made their escape into the house?
Or the bumble bee named Daisy that we fed fresh blooms of Rose-of-Sharon
and deciding to “let the bee go free” after one day.
Will she remember movie nights and popcorn,
camping in the living room, visits from Grandma and
storms that made the hanging plants swing on the front porch.

What about the day we checked the nest, only to find it empty?
The babies had flown away.
Will she remember climbing onto my lap and asking
"What'cha writing?"
When she is old enough to understand
the importance of these memories, she too will have flown away.

Will she remember splashing in the waves of the ocean with her daddy
while mama walked the beach for shells?
Late night rides on the golf cart to the strip and "slappin' hands"
or sitting on the covered deck painting our nails and singing
Taylor Swift songs while the smell of charcoal grills filled the air

Will she remember our daily detours to see
the progress of her new school
and the fading away of the old one.
Or riding by my school and saying
"You can't have my mama until August!"

Will she remember these summer days as they slip past
and bring us a season of new beginnings,
a new school year, and growth?
With her new dress, and prized pink shoes,
I watch her ponytails flip flap back and forth.
Her book bag could swallow her whole, but she carries it with such pride.
The car door closes and just like that, I realize our summer is gone...
But within us are the memories.

Love Always,
Mom

The Real "Face" of Facebook

2011-07-01T11:46:00.002-04:00

“We are so presumptuous that we think we can separate our personal interest from that of humanity, and slander mankind without compromising ourselves” ~Marquis de Vauvenargues

For every bit of goodness we want to see and feel, there is an equal amount of anger and disdain in the world. Sometimes we put ourselves in situations that are just plain stupid and we reap the consequences of our thoughtless actions. But what about the times when the source of pain and anguish shows up at our doorstep, pounding on the door? Unwanted, unwelcome, and most importantly, uninvited, yet unwilling to leave.

There will always be people in the world who want to see others fail, and it’s hard when you know you are the subject of their taunting and wishful demise. I will never understand the hurtful and malicious ways of human nature. It’s been said that some people bring gladness wherever they go, and others, only when they leave. There are those people in all walks of life such as our occupations, churches, and yes, even our families who breed an air of negativity around them. They have a way of snuffing out joy, bringing gloom and just plain old hurtful negativity. My pastor once referred to these sorts of people as “prickly people” because of their ability to “get under the skin” and attempt to destroy anything good and decent. We all must develop some sort of sense that allows us to let the negativity roll off, to brush off our sleeves, to keep on keeping on. But I also know that there is an instinct that lies in each of us to protect what is closest and most dear to us.

I try to avoid those “prickly people” and the negative situations that they bring with them. But there are times in our lives when we are confronted, at the least expected moment, and we have to make quick decisions about how to react. Those situations that are closest to the heart breed the quickest responses. Sometimes, that response is anger, and I will admit that actions and words spoken in anger never result in a positive outcome. But this is life. We take the good with the bad, we know it can’t all be good, but we still have a choice in how to respond. I believe it is in these emotional moments when we use the least amount of rational thinking, because instinct quickly takes over.

In my personal experience, I have been repeatedly hurt at various times in my life by people who were supposed to protect and love me. So much it seems that hurt is no longer the first emotion I feel when these situations arise. Anger is the emotion which manifests itself in these situations as a defense mechanism for my own heart. Past hurt does not excuse present anger, nor does anger lessen the hurt that is inevitably felt and sometimes complicated to a more extreme level once the anger subsides. One is simply a substitute for the other because it is easier to be angry than to admit hurting. I write this because each person experiences anger. Every person, no matter how virtuous and positive, no matter how much Christianity they practice or preach, experiences anger. We are human, people. And that makes us the same on at least one level. It’s what we do with that anger that separates us from others.

I have strong feelings within myself about the subjects where there are no “grey” areas. There is strictly right and wrong. Invading the peace and privacy of people’s lives, using children as exploits, and treating someone who is family with a downgrading air of superiority is a combination of wrongs that add up to a combustible situation.

Children playing in a sandbox may argue over a toy, each feeling the validity of his personal right to play with it. But when a child works hard to build a sandcastle, and the bully, seeing the vulnerability and opportunity for destruction, crushes the sandcastle with one mighty stomp of the foot, the child who worked hard to build it cries because the heart is broken. After one too many stomped sandcastles, the child learns to react in a different way. The focus is no longer on the toy, but on the effort and care put into building the castle, because each castle is a representation of the child himself. Eventually the bully must be faced head on. Sometimes, children just can’t play in the same sandbox. The world is a giant sandbox, and the same is true for adults.

Facebook is the tool in today’s society that connects the sandboxes of the world. We don’t have to answer the door; we simply have to log on to allow hurt and negativity into our homes. The company we keep in person should be no different than the company we keep on Facebook, but this is often not the case. We are quick to add friends, and equally quick to post hurtful and critical comments that are judgmental of others. We don’t have to type a person’s name for this to occur. We are just as quick to delete friends and bear our souls via profile and inbox. Digital judgments occur because our fingers move faster than our minds and hearts. Comments are often posted as a result of anger mode. Slander is written and read because there are no direct repercussions. In fact, Facebook takes the very aspect of real communication out of the picture: face to face encounters. In my opinion, Facebook is the most widely abused tool that causes heartache, pain, and encourages a strange animosity and acceptance for the way people feed off of one another’s misery.

I will admit that I too have been guilty of all of the above, unintentionally at first, but more recently when I felt personally attacked on Facebook. American author Jonathan Swift said, “A man should never be ashamed to own that he has been in the wrong, which is but saying that he is wiser today than yesterday.” I was wrong by allowing myself to become angered and feel pain by personal attacks from people who wish to hurt me and my closest family. Yet I am all the wiser now because of the experience, so in turn, I must say “thank you” to those who have helped open my eyes to the cruelness of the virtual world of Facebook. Not everyone is your friend, even if they are somehow kin to you. Not everything that occurs in one’s head should be posted to the world. I am beginning to think that really, it is the coward’s way out to post on a person’s profile the words which cannot be backed with guts to say to one’s face, or over the telephone even, when the voice can actually be heard. The reality is that the post to Facebook contains the most malice and achieves maximum results of injury because it is there for all to read what only few people need to know. The even stronger reality is that most of it could be avoided if people thought not only about the words coming out of the mouth, but the words being produced by the fingers and the consequences attached. Clicking the little X box and deleting a comment does not take it back. Once posted it remains forever; even if not on the screen but in the heart and head.

I first saw Facebook as a way to connect with old high school friends, then as a way to keep up and in touch with what’s going on. I was able to share photos and communicate with out of town family. It was also a way to spread the word about positive events and happenings in the community. I saw a way to provide a wider audience for my writing, and if you’re reading this via computer, chances are you clicked on the link to my blog from Facebook.

But every time I log on, I also see the bullies of the sandbox. It’s sad that most of the people I’ve had to remove from my friend list have been family, and it started two years ago, not last week. I guess that’s why the geniuses of the program included apps like delete and block. If you’re reading this in print and don’t know what I mean by words like “app, block, delete, or blog” then count yourselves among the lucky, because you have not been engulfed in the age of social networking sites that is rapidly contributing to the destruction of our society. I agree to some extent with Andy Rooney, veteran CBS News correspondent who said, “Computers make it easier to do a lot of things, but most of the things they make it easier to do don’t need to be done.” Purposefully hurting and criticizing other people are things that don’t need to be done. From now on, if I can’t type something nice, then I plan not to type at all (even if someone else is not so nice). And in the same respect, if you don’t like what I type as a post or write on my blog, save us both some hassle and delete me. I am busy with many positive things that occupy my time and chances are, I will never even know I’m gone. Bullies, stay out of my sandbox.

Teaching Love

2011-06-02T16:27:00.014-04:00

I Corinthians 13:13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Teenagers are strange creatures. When I was in college, people would look at me with raised eyebrows and gapping mouths when I spoke of my major and intentions to teach high school. “Why?” they would ask. I thought, why not?

Let me dispel myths that teaching any age compared to another is “easy.” I’ve worked with all ages of children, and teenagers just happen to be what I like the most. Teenagers have driven me to the point of wanting to pull my hair out, but one afternoon with my daughter’s Kindergarten class filled with waist-high people was all it took to reassure myself that teenagers aren’t so bad. The Kindergartener (like my daughter) who has to pee every thirty minutes is no more or less frustrating than the sophomore who asks to be excused every class period. A teacher of any age group must have the passion and heart to handle the group as a whole while simultaneously meeting the needs of the individual. It’s a huge task for teachers.

I think that most teachers, and parents, can empathize with what follows to some degree. Basic sociology teaches us that we all have many different roles and identities in life. Teachers are time keepers, organizers, planners, motivators, and encouragers. We are responsible for maintaining a controlled and safe environment for learning. We want to be a friend, a trusted person, in the lives of our students, but we must maintain discipline in the classroom. We have procedures to follow and procedures to enforce in order to have an environment that fosters learning.

As my first year of teaching comes to a close, I think about everything my students have taught me this year. They have helped teach me in ways that only another teacher can understand. Every lesson did not go exactly as I had planned. There were good days and hard days. There were days I knew my students listened, days when I wondered if they even heard a word I said, and days when it was my turn to listen.
In an English class, we have the opportunity to study literature and universal themes that apply to each of us in different ways. The perspectives that my students bring to the classroom are often very different from mine, because their lives and lived experiences are so different from me and each other. We read Nicholas Sparks’ novel A Walk to Remember. It’s a wonderful book about growing up, making choices, and losing a loved one. It lends itself to discussions about Christianity, God’s plan, facing one’s own mortality, and love. They groaned at first. The guys said it was a “chick book” and made fun of it. But by the end, I think we had all grown from our discussions.

Love is a universal theme that we can all relate to. It is something we crave, we must have it for survival; it’s something we truly need. If love is not found in the right places, it will be sought after from the wrong places. Boy or girl, tall or short, gay or straight, skinny or fat, believer, or non-believer, young or old…it doesn’t matter. Love transcends skin color and ethnicity and language. We all struggle to fit in, to find our place, and to be loved.

I am expected to teach many things like grammar and literacy skills and writing. I’ve been taught to encourage and embrace diversity. All of these have validity. I was told to love my students, and I do. I didn’t realize that it was necessary for me to teach love as well. For some people, love comes easier than others. Some have more exposure to it. Yet others have only the conflicting and misleading images of love from our society and culture where “anything goes” and some forms of diversity are embraced a little too much, in my opinion. We wrote about what love means to us as individuals. I was surprised at how quickly some students wanted to share and pumped that we had finally found something we could all relate to.

. Then we came to the portion of the book that includes I Corinthians 13, you know, what’s often referred to as “The Love Chapter” in the Bible. We consulted and delved into the primary source, being the chapter in the Bible. We analyzed the text and processed it, compared and contrasted our lived experiences with those of the characters in the book. But most importantly, we all came to examine our lives and relationships. We learned that love is more than an emotion we are caught up in at the moment. Love is a commitment, whether it is husband/wife, boyfriend/girlfriend, parent/child, teacher/student, or friend /friend. We learned what love is and what love isn’t. My students helped me to take a long, hard look at my own life, relationships, and interactions with people.

In some places of the world, we couldn’t have those conversations. There may come a time when Sparks’ book is banned, and the opportunity to discuss I Corinthians openly in a classroom setting is not allowed. I may get a phone call from an angry parent when this hits the press, who knows! But for now, it isn’t banned, and our lessons were aligned with state standards. Not taking advantage of the opportunity to share and learn about love would have been tragic, and I must answer to standards higher than the state.

At one point, the room was silent, and I couldn’t buy a comment from my most talkative bunch. One student said, “Mrs. Rorrer, you really got me thinking!” I was joyous and sad all at the same time. Their silence was an indicator that their brains and hearts were working; their tough guard had been momentarily let down. I realized that for many, this was the first time they had really thought about the subject, and even sadder, some may have no real influence of love in their lives. It’s not possible for me to answer life’s hardest questions…the kind that aren’t found on any exam or EOG Test…the kind they struggle with deep inside and cover with a superficial smile. In other words, as their English teacher, I will never know the full extent of the influences they encounter beyond the parameters of my classroom. I don’t force my beliefs on them, but I do encourage them to share their beliefs through writing and discussion when applicable. These formats help them process and make sense of the complex world in which they live.

Love is our greatest challenge and largest responsibility as teachers and parents. Teenagers are tough. They have thick skin. But when you take away the i-pods, cell phones, hip clothes, and punk attitude, one thing is sure. Our children want to know what love is. More than that, they want to know that they are loved.

Letter to my First Year Students

2011-06-01T18:43:00.007-04:00

June 1, 2011

Dear Students,

The end of the year is upon us. I know the past few weeks have been hard. The air outside is warmer and we all have summer vacation on our minds. Soon our time together will be over, but before you go, there are a few things I’d like to share.

I’d like to say thank you. Thank you for putting up with me. As students of a first year teacher, you have had much to endure. Not all the lessons have gone like I planned. Sometimes, I should have been better prepared. I haven’t handled every situation perfectly, but I tried to do the best I could at the time. Some things were easier than others and you know there were many times when you resisted along the way. Some times, it may have been hard...but other times it was way too easy. You’ve seen me happy, sad, frustrated, mad…and I remember seeing all of you the same way at some point or another. None of us are perfect. All we can do is try, and admit mistakes when we make them. We can learn from the mistakes and demand more and better of ourselves in the future. You have shaped the teacher I am, the teacher I want to become, and the teacher I will strive to be. Each individual, no matter how talkative or quite, young man or young woman, has had an impact on me. YOU are my first-year students. I know you will not be forgotten.

We survived research papers and vocabulary quizzes. I thought Senior Project would be the death of all of us, but we’re still kicking! We endured short stories and novels. You wrote in your Daybooks, even when I know you didn’t want to. I love literature and I love writing…but I also love young people, or else I wouldn’t and couldn’t be here. The things I will remember the most about this year together are the discussions we had, the times we laughed, and even the times you thought I was crazy and you laughed at me.

There are many of you whom I have known since the spring of 2010, when I stepped into the room as a student teacher. I have watched you grow and mature. You have done the same with me. When it seemed like I was pushing you too hard, just remember it was because I know how capable you really are. Gaining responsibility and learning are not things you do only in school. Soon, you all will leave this place and you will encounter more responsibility and learning than I could ever teach you in a classroom. In twenty years, it won’t matter who Thoreau was or what Gilgamesh encountered on his journey. What matters is your journey, the choices you make, the challenges you embrace, and the commitment you have to achieve your personal best for success. I don’t have all of the answers for you, but I hope to have taught you to ask the questions and seek the answers from your heart and mind.

I will remember talking with you, as individuals and as a class. I will always remember laughing with you, too. Sometimes we laughed because things were really funny. Sometimes we laughed because the only other thing to do was cry. And sometimes, we did cry, and that’s OK too. When you leave this class, there will be new challenges ahead. I hope your time at Morehead is enjoyable and memorable in positive ways. It has been an odd feeling for me to walk the halls and teach in the same room I once sat in as a student. You have made me recall and consider those experiences, not all of which were positive. But, I can assure you, you can make it out of here and far in life if you commit to try. You will blink, and high school will be over. Make the most of it by making wise choices, planning for the steps ahead, and choosing your friends wisely.

In retrospect, I hope you will look at your high school experience and consider the life skills you are learning and have learned. Life is our greatest teacher and the world is our greatest classroom. The real questions have nothing to do with MLA guidelines, formatting your outline, or grammar rules and work sheets. A few of the real questions are: Can you finish something you start? Can you meet deadlines and plan your work? (Whatever the “work” might be.) Can you communicate your thoughts and opinions in such a way as to give yourself a voice, but have the wisdom to know when that voice should be a subtle whisper or a strong sound against injustice? Can you defend your position without causing undue harm or offending when it’s not really worth it? Are you willing to risk being offended when there is no one to defend you, when the cause is worthy of sacrifice on your part? You don’t have to be able to answer these questions all at once. They will present themselves at various times throughout your life, and in many levels of relationships. Just never forget to slow down, take a minute, and ask these questions of yourselves.

I wanted to give you some quote or passage to pass on to you for encouragement down the road. Here is a copy of something my daddy shared with me when I was in high school. I hadn’t remembered it in years, until I came across it during the middle of our semester, and the words really seemed to speak to my heart.

Remember This:
To solve each problem one at a time.
Take each day as it comes.
Stick to your goals—no matter what happens.
Press toward your dreams.
Keep your attention focused on the future as you consider the solutions at hand.
Look for the bright side—even though it may be temporarily covered by a cloud.
Smile often—even when a frown feels more natural.
Think of those you love and know that they love you, too.
No matter how difficult it may seem, you have within you the power,the ability,and the knowledge to make things better.
And always remember that I am proud of you and I love you.

Do not be strangers once our time is over. I look forward to your smiles, your laughter, and your hugs that mean more to me than you can possibly imagine. Room 84 will always be open to you.

With Love,
Mrs. Amanda Rorrer

Letter to my Daddy

2011-04-29T21:24:00.001-04:00

"I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all."
-- Laura Ingalls Wilder

Dear Daddy,

You really gave me a scare last week, and everyone else that loves you, too. I had planned a birthday surprise for you, but it was nothing major, just cake and ice cream and our family get-together. I didn’t get you a present to open. As I thought about things and the events that unfolded over the next few days, I regretted that I didn’t have a gift for you.

As I was wondering the gift shop at the hospital, I really felt out of sorts. I had stepped away from the room to make some phone calls, clear my head, and just make sense of all that had happened. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but really, God showed me what it was.

I’ll never forget the look you gave me as you lowered your glasses and saw the price tag when I brought back the coffee mug. (Sorry, I forgot to take it off.) You asked me if I really paid $14 for a coffee mug. The answer is no—I paid $28 for two. I know you have a gazillion mugs, but you didn’t have one like this, and neither did I. And no, it wasn’t the mug that God was showing me, but the message behind it.

The inscription on the mug says: Appreciate the little things, because one day you’ll back and realize they were the big things. My eyes welled up with tears when I read the words. As I turned the mug in my hand, I saw the figure watering the small bush and the larger tree next to it. My tears were no longer contained in my eyes; they were streaming down my face. I know it’s not even scripture, but I think that is one of the neat things about it. God reveals Himself to us in ways that surround us all the time. Sometimes I let myself become consumed with things that I make out to be big things, when really, they are small potatoes in the grand scheme of life. That’s part of being human, and sometimes God likes to slow us down and make us reconsider our perspective.

I immediately thought of you and of those I love the most in this life. I thought of your love of flowers and the outdoors, and how you instilled in me that same love. I realized that my happiest childhood memories are of us working together in the yard. My happiest memories as an adult are times I have spent working in the flower and vegetable gardens with Robert and Lydia. I remembered Nannie and how much she loved flowers. I remembered how you taught me the names of them and how Nannie sang to them to “get them to grow.” I’ve tried to pass this love on to Lydia. We’ve had her in the dirt since before she could walk and I’ve taught her the names as well. Robert works with her patiently in the vegetable garden, just as his grandpa did with him.

You see, I can’t put a price on those memories. I don’t need a mug to remind me to remember, but I thought you could think of me and I of you when we can’t be near and know how much we love each other. God reminded me that the little things in life should be the things we cherish the most. He did this in a way that was much more personal than any cheesy “priceless” MasterCard commercial. I answered by saying, “Ok God, you’ve got my attention. Thanks for saving my Daddy. I promise to pay more attention to the little things that I am so blessed to have. I’m trying to do the right thing in so many different directions of my life, I still make mistakes, and I need you to show me what the right things are.”

There in the hospital, you told me that everything happens for a reason, and God never puts more on us than we can handle. Even in the midst of things, you were comforting and parenting me. The thought of not have you as a presence in my life was very bleak and scary, but I know it is a part of growing up, growing older, and living life. There is no possession that could compare or replace those who I love the most. I spent years searching to fill a void because I didn’t have the capability at the time to realize the love surrounding me or the importance of the little things. I went to Texas and back, came home with an empty heart, and only then did I begin to treasure the little things that family provides. Over time, and with maturity, God has granted me a wonderful husband and beautiful daughter that have shown me more love than I thought I was even worth at times. They have helped me prioritize what is important and view life with a larger perspective. Our love is not found in grand things, but in small things we often take for granted. I think it all comes down to what a person’s view of big and small really is proportionately, in one’s heart and head.

I am thankful that I have a house, which is a necessity in life. It may not be the biggest or most fancy house, but it is ours and we have made a home. There is always a stack of bills that must be paid, but our table is blessed and our bellies are full. For us, these are the big things. We work for them and we have pride in what we do, but at the end of the day, it’s the little things that provide us with joy. Little things include: sitting in the front porch swing and planning our future, snuggling and laughing during Scooby Doo cartoons, reading bedtime stories, a refrigerator covered with memories and artwork, a note on the counter that says “I love you,” tomato sandwiches for breakfast, a dog at my feet after a hard day’s work, talking to you on the phone for an hour and not even realizing that an hour has passed, a kiss on the cheek for no reason at all, the sound and feeling of laughter with family, and evening walks.

We were more than lucky on April 10th, 2011, and that’s no little thing. I love you very much and I appreciate all that you are to me.

Love,
Amanda

Rainy Days

2011-04-01T20:36:00.009-04:00

"Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person's character lies in their own hands." ~Anne Frank

My daughter loves the Disney Princesses. Her favorite one has always been Ariel, the Little Mermaid. For her third birthday, I bought her an Ariel umbrella. It was a just a cheap child’s umbrella, but she loved it a lot. She loved it so much that it seems I have been buying an Ariel umbrella every six months for the past two years. I’ve figured out that the average life-expectancy of a cheap umbrella in the hands of my daughter is about six months. Each time one breaks, we have to get a new one, and no other Princess will do. She has carried Ariel proudly on every rainy day since Preschool, and now, well into Kindergarten. Last week, it was pouring down rain and she opened the umbrella to find it broken. “Great. Way to go,” I thought. But when I saw the look on her face, I knew that her heart was in worse shape than the umbrella.

We ventured out on that rainy Sunday to find a new one. I was secretly hoping that we could find one with Ariel, but trying to prepare her for the possibility that it might be time to let Ariel go. I was worried that our lucky streak was going to run out and she would have to settle for another character. Sure enough, there were no Ariel umbrellas, but I did find one with Hannah Montana on it. “Oh, Look! Hannah will do,” I told her, thinking it would be an easy sell for a five-year-old. And it was, until she saw a pink and black one with Sleeping Beauty on it. “Oh no, you don’t want that one. It’s way too big,” I told her. But she was certain that she had grown enough for “a big-girl umbrella just like Mommy.” I opened it in the store to prove my point to her, that she really couldn’t handle an umbrella that size, yet she was confident she could, so I let her try. I realized that with a little help and practice, she really could open and close it, and away we went with the big umbrella.

We practiced opening and closing it at home. Her little arms could barely stretch to open it all the way, but she managed. She pinched a finger when trying to close it, and she cried. She tried again and again. All afternoon she practiced with that thing. At that point, I hoped it was going to last six hours, never mind six months. She learned to adjust her grasp to push it open and use the release button to close it without pinching herself. For the next three days, she asked, “Do I get to use my new umbrella today? I really want it to rain!” Her big “rainy day” finally came and she couldn’t wait to take her umbrella to school and show her friends. She was so excited when she jumped out of the car at school that I didn’t even get my usual good-bye kiss.

She sprung from the car and rushed right up to two friends on the sidewalk. I watched through the window as she talked a mile a minute, and although I couldn’t hear the conversation, I had a pretty good idea of how it was going. I could see the excitement on her face, but she was having trouble getting it to stay open. As I peered through the window, a huge piece of my heart was aching while I watched my baby standing in the rain, desperately trying to open her new treasure. “Come on. Hold it like you practiced. Lord, please help her get that thing open,” I said out loud. By then, she had quite a gathering of friends with their own umbrellas who had stopped to see hers, but she still couldn’t get it completely open. The car line was moving and I had to go, but I watched impatiently in the mirror for as long as I could.

As a parent, even something this simple was hard for me. If I had been standing next to her, I could have helped her, or at least coached her through it. My first instinct would have been to just open it for her, so that she could show her friends. At that moment, it hit me: I can’t always be there for her to open the umbrella, to shield her from the rain, and see that she is successful in her endeavors. At little points that come all too quickly in life, I have to step back and let her have a go at things on her own.
Although I drove her to school that day, I had taken a “back seat” before her feet ever hit the sidewalk. She didn’t turn around to wave goodbye like usual, and she had no idea I continued to watch and secretly cheer her on. The older I get, the more I recognize the wisdom my daddy dispensed during my childhood and my turbulent teenage years. It must have been difficult for him to watch me make my own choices and inevitably, some mistakes. Some choices weren’t always the best ones, but in retrospect, I know that he was always watching and praying for me. Sometimes the greatest help a parent can give a child is not a “handout” or “help up.” The greatest help is to be a strong example. Thanks Dad, you’ve always been that for me.

There will always be rainy days and times when even an umbrella (or a parent) can’t protect us from the storms of life. Sometimes the situations and plans we imagine don’t turn out the way hope or anticipate. No amount of preparation, planning, and rehearsing can insure that life’s situations will always work in our favor. But chances are, if the parents have laid the groundwork for a strong foundation, a child will be able to stand on his own. As a parent, I try to give her all the necessary tools for success and the wisdom to know how to use them. But ultimately, it will be up to her to define what her success and future will be. She will make the choice to use the wisdom or “learn the hard way.” I’m not a perfect parent, but I know that my daughter was the brightest and most beautiful thing I saw on that rainy day. I wasn’t able to see if she got the umbrella open before I drove away, but I wondered all day, because I knew how important it was to her. When I got home that afternoon, she had a story to tell that shined with accomplishment.

MAMA'S GIRL

Rerunning

2011-03-03T20:24:00.010-05:00

“The key to everything is patience. You get the chicken by hatching the egg—not by smashing it.” ~Ellen Glasgow

It’s been a while since I wrote anything related to running. There was a good reason for that: I hadn’t been running. One year ago, I was always training for some race, while working towards several goals simultaneously. Running helped keep my mind focused. My goals were clear and defined. I was filled with purpose and completely sure of myself, my abilities, and the path that God was leading me down. I juggled school and family responsibilities. I was successful at preparing to be successful.

Then came graduation, turning thirty, worrying about job prospects, getting a job, and diving head first into teaching. Admittedly, the final transition from the student’s world of the classroom to the professional side, as the teacher of a classroom filled with 3o plus students, was eye-opening. Add extra family obligations, sickness, the death of my grandpa, injuries which led to a forced lay off from running, and I quickly began to feel like I was a mess of mass confusion! I no longer had those clearly defined goals; nothing was giving me that extra drive. I was no longer pushing….I felt like I was being pulled and dragged. The good habits I had worked so hard to make routine quickly began to fade as time passed. In just a few months, my life felt rearranged, like someone else was behind the wheel and refusing to show me the map! It was a struggle just to keep up, so I could forget about getting ahead. I was in survival mode, but I sure didn’t want to stay there. I was definitely in a slump, and as Dr. Seuss puts it, “Unslumping yourself is not easily done.”

Some days, I didn’t know if I was coming or going. The work never seemed finished at the end of the day and my “to-do” list was never-ending and ever-growing. Henry David Thoreau said, “Methinks my thoughts begin to flow when my legs begin to move.” I wanted to move again because I knew my mind would function better and I could deal with things easier if I carved out the time for exercise and returned to making it a priority. For me, as many others, there’s a correlation between mental and physical well-being. They go hand-in-hand, and when one is neglected, the other quickly follows suit. So I’ve been starting over, from ground zero for exercise. Run/walk intervals aren’t very fun for someone who once trained for half marathons. And hearing the words, “Your long-run days are over” has been hard to accept. Two years ago, a long run would have been 13-15 miles. Four years ago, I would have laughed if someone suggested running. Eight years ago, I was having surgeries on my left leg and was told at one point, “You’ll probably always have a slight limp.” So when I look at it that way, I’m more grateful for the ability to run at all. And then I wonder why I expected teaching to be any different. Just like the run/walk intervals are slow and painful in the beginning, so is teaching. It’s not a job that comes with instant results or rewards. It took me 30 years to get here. It may take 30 more to feel only slightly accomplished.

It has taken me over a month to build back up to a fraction of the distance I used to run in a day. It took the entire first semester of teaching to feel like I could breathe. But I have realized that for me, running is not about time, speed, or distance. It’s about a commitment and dedication to move, to be active, to feel alive. It’s about a determination to resist quitting, even when that would be the easiest thing to do. Whereas teaching, on the other hand, is about time, speed, and distance. It takes time to gain experience. Sometimes I have to slow down and really listen to what my students are saying. And, I have to be willing to go the extra distance for them. As a runner, I won’t quit on myself. As a teacher, I won’t quit on my students. I realized the drive I needed to give that extra push is right in front of me: it’s my students. Entering the professional world of teaching doesn’t mean that I am automatically accomplished. I have to move one step, one day, one class at a time to become more proficient. But I am applying that same level of determination and commitment to the classroom as I do to pounding the pavement. Neither one is easy, nor is the work ever done.

While running through a portion of the neighborhood I grew up in, I pushed pause on my i-pod. Only then could I hear the laughter of some boys playing football, the sounds of banging coming from a garage, the sirens of an approaching fire truck, and the crunch of the empty Newport box I crushed on the sidewalk. I realized that even if I were walking, or rolling in a wheel chair (which could have easily been my fate after that car crash), I would still be moving. And isn’t that the point of life? To always be moving? It’s time to rethink some goals, redefine my purpose, and move forward. It’s not about changing careers or locations. I am right where God has placed me for a reason. Moving forward means improving what it is that I already do. It means continuing to learn and gaining experience. Moving forward means resisting the temptation to become complacent and indifferent. (Or worse than that, content with mediocre or cynical). Maya Angelou says that if you can’t change the way something is, change the way you look at that thing. The answer is often inside of you, not in front of you. I was waiting for answers to drop out of the sky, when really, they were there the entire time. I just needed to be patient with myself and remember why I started running and teaching in the first place.

The qoute at the bottom of this poster reads:"Determination is the often the first chapter in the book of excellece." This poster is now hanging in my classroom.

Raking Leaves and Imperfections

2011-01-01T14:14:00.015-05:00

Put your works into the hands of the Lord, and your purposes will be made certain. Proverbs 16:3

I was raking my grandmother’s yard the other day. Every leaf had fallen from the trees and her sidewalk and steps were covered. The path to her car was obscured and for her safety, the leaves needed to disappear. I looked around the yard and asked myself, “Where do I even begin?” I started at the top of the hill and raked the leaves downward, thinking I needed to work smart, not hard. As I raked, I couldn't help but imagine that the task would be easier if I had help. I began to reminisce about my grandfather, who recently passed away, and about how much fun this task must have been for aunts and uncles who always did this job together growing up. I could see the yard filled with my aunts and uncles and I imagined them at different ages. I remembered holidays I have shared there with cousins and my heart ached.

I began to think about how sometimes our lives are like the yard scattered with leaves. There’s complete chaos and we don’t even know where to begin to pick up the pieces. Once again, I wished I had some help to rake those leaves into piles. I raked and I raked. My arm began to cramp and my back hurt, but finally I had five huge piles. I stopped for a break and went inside for a drink. I sat with my grandmother and we talked for a while about how things were when she was raising her children, all seven of them. I felt a little refreshed and returned to work. When I went back outside, I realized that those leaves which were once scattered were now in nice little piles, but only half the work was done. I couldn’t leave them there. One strong wind would simply scatter them all over the yard again. I began thinking about how if our lives are like the yard scattered with leaves, sometimes it takes work to pick up the pieces and rake them into piles. Sometimes we’re scared to do this. We know it will be back-breaking work. And sometimes, we’re scared of the dirt and mud we might find under the leaves…the fragile and imperfect pieces of ourselves are exposed once the work has begun.

I tried to put the leaves into some small bags. I quickly realized I needed something bigger and stronger. I found some lawn and leaf bags, which were much more sturdy and durable. God is like the strong and sturdy bag. He wants us to pile all of our faults and disappointments, hopes, confidence and love into Him. He alone is strong enough to handle it. It does us no good to work ourselves to complete exhaustion if we are only going to hold on to the piles of leaves in our lives. Even if we leave the piles by the road for someone else to pick up, we are not taking full responsibility for our task, whatever the task might be. And even still, we run the risk of one strong wind scattering the leaves and all the hard work is null and void. We have to have somewhere to put the leaves, and we have to really get down and dirty if we want the work done. I looked at my hands, which were dirty, but I looked back at the five bags I had already filled. I felt only halfway accomplished. There was much more work to be done.

My daughter came outside to help me and I would hold the bag open as she tried to put leaves inside. As I watched her, I noticed some stubborn leaves that would fall right back to the ground every time she picked up a pile with her little arms. I thought how the leaves that wouldn’t stay in the bag are like our little imperfections, our weaknesses, our faults, our sins, and our addictions. The leaves that won’t go easily into the bag are those things we have a harder time giving to God and just letting Him handle. But God waits patiently, for us to make the decision to make a full commitment to the task at hand.

As we continued working, my daughter said, “Mommy! I can’t rake anymore because my rake is full of leaves!” Right then I realized that the rake is just like our hearts…sometimes we have to stop and pick the leaves from the rake in order to keep on going. The leaves on the rake are the burdens, sins, and imperfections that clutter our heart, and sometimes we just need a good cleansing. I carefully instructed her to pick the leaves from the rake and place them into the bag. Every few minutes, we had to stop and clean our rakes. But how often do we stop and ask God to cleanse the leaves from our hearts? I shared this story with my daughter as we worked in the yard and filled bag after bag of leaves. Believe it or not, it was a simple metaphor that even a five-year-old could understand.

My grandmother came out to check our progress and I shared this idea with her as well. At that moment, I think we both recognized that God has placed help for us in all directions. We have to be willing to ask and then to accept. No one should go through pain and grief alone and there is not a person on Earth who has to. God can clean the scattered leaves, heal broken hearts, and mend shattered lives. Just as we finished our job, the snowflakes on December 5th began to fall. I looked to the sky and thanked God for His ability to send a miracle just when I needed to be reminded of His awesome wonders.

PS....I take no credit for these photos...I simply searched for images from the web that I thought were appropriate for this piece of writing.

If this is reality, I'm not interested....

2010-11-27T17:30:00.009-05:00

The title is stolen from my young and vibrant "fashonista" cousin....who I was so privileged to spend my Thanksgiving with. I love you Hillary and thank you for listening to all of my ramblings....you are wise beyond your years....And as one other cousin said, "There are many colors of life are not always pretty..."

A dark room
With closed curtains
That light cannot penetrate.
A world where I cannot hurt others
And I can feel no pain inflicted upon me.
A place where I
Lock myself away
And I alone begin to pick up the pieces
Of my broken self.
Where dreams of loved ones gone
Do not haunt my sleep.
Like a beaten dog
Left to lick my own wounds
Growling at any human touch
That tries to say,
“Let me help you.”

And now, some Red Hot Chili Peppers to reiterate how I feel right now...
Scar Tissue
Scar tissue that I wish you saw
Sarcastic mister know it all
Close your eyes and I'll kiss you cause
With the birds I'll share
With the birds I'll share
This lonely view
With the birds I'll share
This lonely view

2010-11-24T17:02:00.003-05:00

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
~Howard Thurman

"I Am What I Am"

I am one who embraces the challenge.
I am one who does what others only dare.
I teach and I reach…
Though they may be far and few between.
At the end of my years, I will reflect and know,
Think and say,
Speak and feel,
All that which I have become.
All that I have embraced,
Even that which was difficult--
Because I rose to the challenge
And I was firm in my convictions.
I loved the challenge and the quest for answers—
Even the seemingly impossible ones.
I nurtured the thirst for knowledge by
never letting my own well run dry.
I am a woman who wonders, “ Do I do enough?”
Or, am I doing too much? How much more of myself can I give?
I do what I do because I am what I am.
I am a wife, a mother, a teacher, a daughter, a niece, a granddaughter, a friend.
I am what I am.
I am a work in progress,
Never perfected and in constant need of refinement.
This is me and I am what I am.
I am a poet whose words are often unrhymed.
I am a writer who writes what is on my mind.
I keep trying and I practice.
I practice to perfect an art, knowing that perfection is an unattainable goal—
Only a point to strive toward.
My heart is on my sleeve and that is only because
I am what I am.
I am a lover of the written word, the ability to speak one’s mind, and the inspiration to find one’s voice.
I am human and I am often sidetracked by the realities of life and the pains of death.
I am a writer who struggles to find the words that fit perfectly on the page—
Regardless of how those words are interpreted by those who know me less than myself—
By those who think they know me.
I am a teacher who teaches respect,
Knowing that the hidden curriculum has a place of importance
And respect for one’s self and others will benefit my students
farther in life than any multiple choice test.
I am strong, but even I need reassurance and positive reinforcement to do
the insurmountable tasks that consume my day.
Even with strength comes doubt---
But I have a higher power whose voice reminds me
that He has made me who I am.
And He gives me a will to strive to do more.
Never to be perfect, but always changing,
Always learning, and always growing,
Which is the essence of life.

2010-11-14T13:30:00.002-05:00

“You have a choice. You can throw in the towel or use it to wipe the sweat off your face.” ~Gatorade

When I look back on the time in my life when I began running, I have to laugh at myself. I wouldn’t say I was introduced to running. Rather, running just introduced itself to me. My first feeble attempt at running happened by accident. It was a half-hearted attempt to rush through a one mile walking workout. That first lap around the track almost killed me. I remember collapsing onto the ground, flat on my back, and staring at the bright blue January sky. I could have sworn the earth was spinning as I desperately tried to catch my breath and simultaneously coughed up half a lung. I almost crawled back to my car and prayed that no one actually saw what I considered a total disaster. I was worn out and sore for days, but I couldn’t let myself believe the result of that effort was all I was “capable” of. So, I went back out to the track. For a month, I began running a little every day. I set a goal to be able to run one mile without stopping or keeling over, gasping for breath. I told no one but my husband, who honestly didn’t understand where this new “one mile” goal was coming from. Nine months later, despite many sarcastic remarks and insane looks from some family and friends, I ran my first half-marathon. I crossed that finish line, my first one ever, and it was official: I was a runner.

I still catch sarcasm and crazy comments from my friends, but I just smile when they call me “Forrest Gump.” Sometimes I think the only people who understand my need to run are my husband and my daddy. But then I remember that there are millions of other people who have running fever and sign up for races all across the country during every month of the year. We can’t all be crazy!

In 2007, I adopted my dog Sophie. She quickly became my new and preferred running partner. She lifted me out of a “running rut” and kept me going out to run in the cold. I remember climbing a steep hill in my neighborhood one day with Sophie. She was right by side, matching me step for step, when a neighbor shouted, “Hey! Who’s pulling who up that hill?” I replied with the first thing that came to my mind. “We’re a team!” I shouted back.

I’ll always love to run with Sophie, but now I have a new team to run with. They are 21 boys and girls who make up Morehead’s Cross Country team. They call me “Coach” and sometimes when I hear that name, it still takes a second to remember they’re talking to me. I’m new at this coaching thing, and I never played organized sports, so I don’t have a great mentor to model my coaching philosophy after. I’ll be the first to admit that I am learning as I go, but I know two things for sure: I love running and I love my team.

Working out with the team has forced me to return to the basics of running. I’ve had to lay down the ipod and reconnect with the sound of my feet hitting the ground. Before coaching, I could run without the conversation of others, but I never wanted to run without music. Now, the music that fills my ears is the sound of the team cheering each other on as we run hill repeats. And somehow, everyday, each member of the team returns for more. More running, more pushing our limits, more soreness, more sweat. We haven’t won every meet, but our times keep improving. It’s like we all had to start with that very first lap. We know that the first lap, the first mile, and the first race may not be pretty; but we know we’re capable of more, so together we’re working toward our goals.

Some people think that winning is the most important thing, but for a runner, the most important things are often improving and finishing. Coach Skip Prosser said WIN meant focusing on “What’s Important Now.”

Grandpa Jack

2010-10-23T16:07:00.000-04:00

Dear Grandpa,
My earliest memories of you are the five dollar bills you gave me each time I came to visit. I remember being the only little one for quite some time. I followed Jamie around and copied everything he did. He picked on me a lot, but you made sure I usually got my way.

I remember following you around to see whatever you were building or fixing at the time. You never shooed me away. You always told me all about what you were building and the names of your tools. You always let me think I was helping.

When I got older, I remember begging you and Jamie to play the guitar together. I would sit in the floor and listen, smiling from ear to ear. Grandma would tap her foot and sing along too. Those are my favorite memories.

I will never forget all the lunches I ate sitting with you and Grandma. I loved being in that kitchen with the both of you. I loved coming to your house that was more than a house. To me, that house where you created a home represented so many of the things I searched for throughout my life. That is where I found unchanging love and the connection to the pieces I was missing for so long.

Grandpa, you could always make me smile. Even when our days grew shorter, you and I would sit in the sunshine, drinking our Pepsi, and have our talks. Those are special talks that I will always cherish. I speak for all of your grandchildren, from the very oldest to the very youngest, when I say that we are proud to be your grandchildren. As my Lydia said, the one thing we will remember the most about our Grandpa Jack is loving you. We thank you and grandma for giving us a legacy of unchanging love, hard work, and family first. We are not perfect, but that’s not the important thing. We are FAMILY and that is what matters most.

Love,
Amanda

Summer School

2010-09-04T08:13:00.007-04:00

“Get over the idea that only children should spend their time in study. Be a student so long as you still have something to learn, and this will mean all your life.” ~Henry L. Doherty

When I look back at the summer of 2010, I will remember a time when I learned several things. I believe that we are never too old for learning and that changing from lessons learned is a part of what keeps us alive inside.

The time I spent with my husband this summer has taught me that couples must not forget each other. After the kids are grown and gone, the love and passion that sparked the relationship must remain. I learned this from long bike rides with my husband, when we counted the deer and bunnies on country roads. And from the long summer evenings when we sat on our front porch swing and listened to the rain while making plans for our future. I’ve learned just how much I love my husband, my best friend.

I’ve spent time with young people this summer who have taught me about play and imagination. Watching my little sister and my daughter play house and shopping just like grown-ups has reminded me that children have huge imaginations; but their play, conversation, and habits are imitations of what they see and hear from the real adults in their lives.

I’ve learned a thing or two about joy. My pastor reminded me of three things that are likely to rob a Christian of his or her joy. They are: circumstances, things, and people. Who knows why people want to rob others of joy. It’s a question to which the answer eludes me. Maybe it’s because of jealousy or because they want to see us fail. People love to try to shake the confidence that a well-grounded and well-prepared person has in himself. The truth is, ninety nine people can tell us something positive, but one can be that person who always has something hurtful to say, bringing a cloud of negativity wherever he goes. I’ve learned to try hard to make it a point to be counted in the ninety nine, not the one.

Lastly, I’ve spent precious time with grandparents who are growing older and their time in this world is becoming shorter. My daddy always says, “The best thing you can spend on your children is time.” He always spent time with me, and in that time I watched him care for elderly people in our lives, some of whom were not even kin to us. Now it’s my turn to help care for others and I’ve learned that time is the best thing we can spend on anyone we love. Time is one thing I can give and not mess up or regret. Sometimes it’s hard to care for elderly loved ones…there are good days and bad. I could shut myself away and pretend that things are the way they’ve always been, or I can be there as much as possible. One thing’s for sure: if I’m not there, I miss the good days. I miss the times when there is a smile or a laugh; a hint of the person I knew as a child. And if I miss the good days, I have fewer positive memories to help me through the bad days.

I have enjoyed the time I spent with my grandparents over the summer. They are the pieces of who I am today and the links to a past that represents strength and courage. I am learning that growing older affects even the young, and while there is nothing that can stop it, I can give my time, my prayers, and my love. These are three things that any person deserves to be surrounded with, no matter his or her age.

Dinner for Two

2010-07-08T13:48:00.019-04:00

“A travel adventure has no substitute. It is the ultimate experience, your one big opportunity for flair.” -- Rosalind Massow

Summer is here and that means vacation! I just returned home from a cruise to Jamaica and Grand Cayman Island. The cruise experience was a first for me and my husband, and so was vacationing with 60 other people that we know. We traveled with Melanie Pascal’s Dance Creations and our dancers had the opportunity of a lifetime to not only sail the open seas, but to perform on the cruise ship. Our dancers were awesome because they work hard and train with the best. From the moment we stepped onto the ship, memories were being made. Yet, the performance was definitely the highlight of our vacation. Aside from performing, if someone asks me what I will remember the most about life on board, I will tell them it has to be the meals in the dining hall.

Each night was an interesting evening of elegant dining with everyone attending dressed in his or her best. It was a chance for our group to see each other and catch up on all the fun stuff we had done that day. Our men dressed a little nicer and our ladies had the opportunity to dress up and feel pretty as we showed off our new dresses we bought on the islands. From the moment we entered the dining hall, we were waited on hand and foot. The Maître’d greeted us with a smile and the waiting staff pulled out the chairs for the ladies and placed our napkins in our laps. Fine China and sparkling glasses decorated each table. Bread was delivered to each person and water poured into our glasses as we looked at the menu and “ooohed and ahhhed” over the choices.

Each meal we enjoyed in the dining hall was extravagant. It was definitely a sight for this Southern girl to see! It was the type of dining where you have three forks, two knives, and two spoons- you think there’s no possible way each person could need all that silverware, but we did!

Appetizers preceded the entrees and each plate of food was fancifully decorated in the finest culinary style. Things got really interesting when everyone seated at our table ordered something different. It was so much fun to see each plate and hear one another’s reactions as we took that first mouth watering bite. There was strawberry soup with fresh mint, lobster bisque, prime rib, shrimp, veal parmesan, grouper, and too many other items to name. There were items I had never heard of, and some that I could barely pronounce, but we tried them all. And just when we were stuffed to the gills and didn’t think we could hold another bite, the dessert menu was placed in our hands. My favorite dessert was the warm chocolate melting cake that surely lived up to its name.

Our waiter assured us that each dessert was calorie free and that salt air has been known to shrink clothes. I didn’t believe the part about “calorie free” but I can testify to the fact that salt air really does shrink a person’s clothes! There was something special in store for us each night in the dining hall. There were magic tricks from the waiting staff or a big song singing after the meal. Some nights the waiters jumped onto the tables and danced for us right there in the dining hall. We crowded around and twirled our napkins in the air, clapping and raising our glasses in excitement.

The truly amazing part of the dining experience was our view of the ocean as we ate our meals. Our table was seated at the back of the ship where huge glass windows provided a breathtaking view as we sailed the Caribbean. As I looked around I wondered if this was how the first class passengers aboard the Titanic felt when they dined so exquisitely in their day. Sometimes the ship rocked and we could see the water in our glass shake. One night, we actually wondered if our plates would stay on the table, but they did.

As all good times must come to an end, so did our time aboard the Carnival Destiny. It’s back to the old grind and reality on land. It’s back to paper plates and paper napkins and only on fork per meal at the Rorrer household. That’s OK because we like the plain and simple, but it was nice to enjoy such elegance for one week!

Goodbye Twenties

2010-06-04T22:10:00.004-04:00

“When we grow old, there can only be one regret - not to have given enough of ourselves.”
Eleanora Duse quotes (Italian Actress. 1858-1924)

Dear Twenties,
I am writing you this letter to tell you goodbye. I know we’ve been together for an entire decade, but Thirty will be here soon, and quite frankly, I think it’s time that I move on. At times, it really is hard to imagine life without you, but like it or not, you must let me go.

I’ll never forget you. After all, we went through quite a lot together. I remember when we first met. We thought we ruled the world, you and I. Everything was there for the taking and we set off on quite a few adventures. Remember when we moved all the way to Louisiana? Just me and you, we set off down that long Interstate 10 in that little Chevy that took us all the way to Cajun Country and our first apartment. Looking back, I wonder how we lived off of Raman Noodles and Mac-n-cheese for all that time. Oh Twenties, I look back on that time we spent in Mississippi, South Carolina, and Texas and I wonder how we ever made it home. Those were good times, and it was tough when they ended, but there were greater things in store for us. We tried to make a home there, but we knew all along where my heart was. That’s why at 23, we came back to good ole North Carolina, where people don’t love me because they have to…they love me because they want to.

At 24 we took that big walk down the aisle. There was a handsome man waiting there when we arrived. By the way, I think that was the smartest thing you and I ever did. At 25, more changes came our way. There were diaper changes and late night feedings; and all the joys of Motherhood. 26 and 27 went by so fast that it seems I blinked and they were gone. I should have realized then that I was beginning to outgrow you, Twenties. Life just changed for me. I mean, as a wife and mother and student, I just didn’t have time for all the childish things that used to occupy our time.

At 28, I realized just how important family really is, even though I thought I already knew. It was pretty mature of you, Twenties, to help me realize that we no longer have time for bitterness or petty quarrels. And, I have to say thank you for helping me see that this body of mine will give out one day, so I have to take care of it now. No, I’m not talking about wrinkle creams and crash diets, but I am talking about sunscreen, exercise, and a healthy lifestyle. It’s ok, I think Thirty will like running just as much as we do. There are some things a girl just can’t do without.

At 29, we finally graduated from college and earned that degree we worked so hard for. It seems like it took us forever, but all the while we had a goal and we stuck to it. I’m glad we did. But you see, now we have accomplished all we set out to do. It’s time for new plans, new goals, new dreams; and I have outgrown you. Life is short and I must do all I can in the time I have; so I must let you go, too. Don’t worry, you’ll find some other young girl with her whole life ahead of her, and you two will get along fine. (For the next ten years.) Oh, don’t try to tell me I can’t make it without you or that I’m getting old. Gray hairs don’t scare me; that’s the one thing there is a cure for! So go now, Twenties, you’re holding me back! I’ll never forget you, but I need this change in my life.

Love,
Me

A New Journey Begins...

2010-05-24T14:05:00.007-04:00

“We do not understand the intricate pattern of the stars in their courses, but we know that He who created them does, and just as surely as He guides them, He is charting a safe course for us.” ~ Billy Graham

The author T.S. Eliot wrote, “The end is also a beginning. The end is where we start from.” Now that my college graduation has come and gone, I see the truth in these words. As I sat at commencement in my cap and gown, I smiled as I remembered that first semester when my husband had to help me with math homework. I remembered that first day I toured the campus of UNCG and cried because it was so big and I was sure I would not be able to find my classes. My husband took my hand and told me all the reasons why I could do it. I still remember the overwhelming feeling that I would be lost or somehow swallowed up in all of the vastness of the campus. I remembered the days I would sit and study on the bench beneath the shade tree, sipping coffee to stay awake, determined to pass the next test. Everything was new and different when I began this journey, but with each step, God saw me safely through.

One fellow graduate candidly told me that I had “worked too hard”, and that the journey would have been more fun if I “had a life.” I just smiled and looked into the stands where I could see all the parents and grandparents who gave me life and instilled in me the values of hard work and perseverance. It was them who had confidence in me, believed I could do anything, including the impossible, and told me so. I looked at my husband and my daughter and I thought about how rich and blessed my life really is.

The commencement speaker read Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken,” and as I heard those familiar words, I couldn’t help but think of all the roads that led me to that moment in time. Different choices would have meant different roads and ultimately, a different me. Like the traveler in Frost’s poem, I too have taken the road less traveled. Some might think my life has been backwards, that I should have completed college before having a family. But for me, that support system of strong husband and family has made all the difference.

After graduation, I now find myself at another crossroad in the woods. An end that is really a beginning. An opportunity and an empowerment to expand myself and spread my wings. For me, as so many other graduates, this is a moment in time where I hang in the balance and the future looks and feels uncertain. Everyone keeps asking me where I will go from here. Of course I have plans, but the truth is, I have learned not to put too much stock in my own plans, especially since I don’t control the future. I have done my part to finish this portion of the journey and to finish well. I know in my heart who directs my path and I am confident that He will continue to guide me.

As I end this journey and begin a new one into the unknown future, I realize that I am changed. But it’s not the degree that changed me. Rather, it’s the years that have passed and the occurrences they brought with them. It’s the challenges that have been met and overcome. It’s the knowledge I have gained from both books and life; it’s what I choose to do with that knowledge which motivates me to enrich the lives of others. No matter how uncertain the economy, the job market, or the future may seem, no matter what challenges are ahead, I know things will turn out fine. I will find the path that God has for me and fill a future that is uniquely mine. And so, let this new journey begin…

Dance to your Dreams...

2010-05-07T17:01:00.013-04:00

“Dancing with the feet is one thing, but dancing with the heart is another.” ~Anonymous

When I was a little girl, I had a sign that hung on the wall in my room that read: Dance to your dreams. My favorite necklace charm was a tiny pair of ballet shoes and I wore it every day for years. I took dance classes for many years and I can’t imagine the thousands of dollars my parents shelled out year after year on shoes, leotards, costumes, classes, competition fees, time, and travel. I lived for dance and I had big dreams of becoming a famous dancer and actress. I never made it to Broadway, but I have kept a love of dance and theatre in my heart for many years.

Now my daughter takes dance and last week was recital week. This is an incredibly busy week that any family with a dancer in it living in this town knows all about. There are late rehearsals, suppers eaten on the run, and mornings that come too early. There are technical rehearsals, dress rehearsals, and finally, the real show. A year of time, effort and practice cumulates in this one week and it all boils down to the final show. Moms and dancers fill the dressing rooms. There are costumes of all colors, Capezio tights, bobby pins, hair gels, tons of make-up, cameras, body glitter spray, and too many shoes to count! Surely if all of us moms had sons instead of daughters, we could save a ton of money, right? We could buy cleats and ball gloves instead of pink tights and tutus. We could teach them about sportsmanship and never have to worry about pirouettes and pleas. The numbers 5, 6, 7, 8 would not be engrained into our heads.

But as a former dancer myself, I have to say that there is nothing that compares with the experience of the recital. There is one thing I gained from those years of dance class that money can’t buy. And rest assured that our daughters will gain it too. It takes confidence to jump on that stage like you own it, so just ask any dancer who loves really loves it what it’s like to perform. She’ll tell you that nothing compares with the experience of performing under bright lights that illuminate the stage, surrounded by music that pumps in your head and body, and before an audience whose claps and screams penetrate the dancer’s heart in a way that is indescribable.

The girls who begin dance in their early years and continue dancing through high school share a special bond. Their bond is the ultimate example of sportsmanship. They learn together, perform together, win together, learn together, and cry together. They learn to move together and think together; they must trust each other and encourage one another over the years. Without a doubt, they become a team. And without a doubt, they share memories that will last a lifetime.

My dancing days aren’t completely over. Anyone who knows me knows that I still love to perform. But now I get to share in that unique experience with my daughter. As a backstage mom, I get to stand in the wings when it’s her time to shine. I actually prefer the wings of the stage as opposed to the audience because there, no one can see me biting my lips and wiping my tears. I have more anticipation than she does as I wonder: “Will she nail her arabesque? Will she remember to smile? Will she make it to her color?” When I see her on the stage, any thoughts about money, or lack of sleep, or one crazy hectic week disappear. I see a dancer who loves the stage, loves to dream, and has the confidence to face the lights and people with grace and poise. And that is worth every penny I spend.

Letter to my 3rd block class...

2010-05-02T19:44:00.002-04:00

Dear 3rd Block,
Over the last four months, you and every student in our class has found a special place within my heart. From the first day of class, you challenged me as a new teacher and I often wondered if I was teaching you anything at all. Now that our time together as a class has come to an end, I want to tell you that it was YOU who taught me more than I could possibly have taught you. It was your class that taught me what it really means for a teacher to love her students. You taught me that in order for me to remain in this profession for years to come as I have planned, I need to see my students as individuals and that I must love each one in a unique way. And now I feel as if I’m leaving you or walking out empty handed. It is hard for me to go, but we both must move on. I want to give you something to reflect on, some knowledge, some sort of wisdom; something as special as what you have given me. I remembered a piece of paper I keep tucked away that was given to me years ago by my 6th grade teacher. I didn’t understand this piece at the time, but I have read it over and over through the years and I have found it to be very inspiring. The original piece was written by Paula Bachleda, and she offers some advice to some of life’s basic questions.

Who? It took me a while to realize that this is probably the most important question of all. Take time to discover who you are and be your own person. Strive to be honest, respectful, and happy. When you are at peace with yourself, everything else will fall into place. Just be careful not to wrap your identity in possessions. Allow yourself to grow and change. And remember always that you are not alone—you have your family, your friends, your guardian angel and God (not necessarily in that order!).

What? This is the tricky one, and at first this question had me fooled. I thought the question was, “What will I do today?” However, I found that things got really interesting when I instead asked, “What is my passion?” Discover what it is that burns inside you and keeps you going, then nurture it. Take it apart and build it back together. Do whatever you want with it, but never let it from your sight. Do it because that’s what you love to do. The joy that it brings you will keep you going through some of the doldrums of life.

When? This is the sneaky one. Do not ignore it. It will keep you balanced. Some things are best done now. Procrastination usually just creates more work. But keep in mind that there is a season for everything, and keep in mind that some things are better left for another day. As hard as it may be, remember to take time to rest and enjoy the miracle of each new day. With practice, you will learn the pleasure of doing some things now and the unique delight of waiting and planning for others.

Where? Surprisingly, this is the easiest one. You will always have the answer with you if you keep your home in your heart and put your heart into wherever you call home. Be an active part of your community and you will discover the special charm that will endear it to you. Remember always that the simplest act of kindness can make a difference, and that you can change the world.

Why? Never stop asking this one. It’s the one that will keep you growing. Let it. Let it challenge you when you’ve become too complacent. Let it shout at you when you are making decisions. Let it whisper to you when you lose sight of who you are or where you want to be. But you also need to be careful with this one. Sometimes the answer does not come for years, and sometimes it doesn’t come at all. Recognizing that basic fact can keep you sane and allow you to move on.

How? Ah, this is the one on which I can’t advise you! This is the one you will answer in your own special way. Just remember to believe in yourself and in miracles. Remember that the greatest discoveries come after stumbling over questions. Never think you know enough to stop learning. Instead challenge yourself to learn something new every day. Never underestimate your abilities and don’t let anyone else either. You have the mind and the strength to do great things, but you must combine those with willpower and a positive attitude. Where ever you go, whatever you do, I’ll never forget you! Always do your best and make me proud!

Thoughtfully,
Mrs. Rorrer
“The Goodest”

Smell the Flowers

2010-04-17T09:00:00.004-04:00

“Don’t count every hour in the day. Instead, make every hour in the day count.” ~Anonymous

Last week I stuffed 100 Easter eggs in preparation for “the big hunt.” I was grumbling under my breath because I was frustrated. I felt like there were many other “more important” things I needed to be doing. I was frustrated because time always seems so limited, no matter what I’m doing. I was sure I didn’t have time to be stuffing eggs with ridiculously overpriced candy that would end up being an unnecessary temptation in my kitchen. “Who needs all this candy?” I asked myself. “My child doesn’t need it and neither do my hips!” And then it hit me. One day my little girl will be too big for frilly baskets and egg hunts. Even Santa Claus and Halloween costumes will eventually lose their magic. She’s growing up too fast, I thought. That realization sent a pain inside my heart.

The next day, our family took a trip to Lowes. Our mission: buy a few flowers to fill the empty pots on the front porch and buy some vegetable plants to prepare for our garden. As I strapped my daughter into her car seat, she asked me to ride in the back with her. This is something she asks from time to time and when she does, my husband usually doesn’t mind riding with her. I grumbled at her request because I do not like riding in the back; but I realized she just wanted to be near me, so I climbed in next to her. Only by riding in the back could I experience the ride through her eyes: the eyes of a child. Yes, I had been grateful for the warm sunshine that day, but it was my daughter who had reminded me to appreciate it; to experience its beauty.

Everything was new and beautiful to her. Spring is finally here, and her eyes were filled with excitement as she pointed out scenes from the landscape. There were blooms on the trees, cows in green pastures, and wispy clouds against the background of a bright blue sky. I looked at her and saw that she had removed her shoes. She had propped one bare foot in the window and her soft brown hair was blowing in the wind. For a moment I was envious of my daughter. I wanted her carefree and joyous attitude. I wanted to be free from responsibility and worry.

Sometimes we’re so busy with the adult world of responsibility that we neglect to appreciate the everyday beauty that surrounds us. Worrying about responsibility does no good and it keeps us from enjoying even the simple things we encounter. When do we lose the ability to see things as our children do? At what point in our lives do we lose that sense of wonderment and excitement about the world and nature around us? Children are far smarter than we give them credit for. Often, it’s adults who are blind and oblivious to the natural wonders right in front of us! We see without looking, hear without listening, and we fail to feel because we don’t stop to embrace.

Time keeps passing, and I’ve always heard that the older we get, the faster it goes. But time doesn’t speed up – we just lose our childlike sense of wonder because we replace it with schedules, deadlines, and activities we think are important but could probably do without. Some of these things are important and inevitable, but every once in while it doesn’t hurt to ride in the back seat…just to enjoy the ride. My Nannie always reminded me to “Take time to smell the flowers.” That day it was my daughter who reminded me to pick a few too; so I did.

This is one of the flowers that we picked out that day. It was so unique that we just had to take a picture of it. Seeing this flower reminded me of the following poem...one of my favorites.

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

By: Robert Frost

Forgiveness

2010-04-03T13:49:00.004-04:00

“Forgiveness is the economy of the heart…forgiveness saves the expense of anger, the cost of hatred, the waste of spirits.” ~Hannah Moore

I’ve been thinking a lot about forgiveness lately. It’s something that isn’t always easy. I’ve noticed that people of all ages and backgrounds seem to cling to hurt and wrongdoings in some form or fashion. I’ve also noticed that the impact is greater and has the potential to be the most negative when we are hurt by those who are closest to us. And, those we love the most are often the hardest to forgive.

Sometimes the things we need to forgive are greater than one simple thought, action, or deed. Sometimes it’s a series of actions or inactions that hold us back, weigh us down, and ultimately prevent us from leading the quality of life that God would have us lead. When we allow the weeds of animosity and anger to fester in our hearts, it grows fast, and before we realize, it can affect every aspect of our lives.

Isaiah 49:16 says, “Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.” This verse reminds me that God loved me and sent His Son to die on the cross so that I could have the security of eternal salvation and be forgiven of my sins. I interpret the “walls” in this verse to mean any obstacle in life. God has forgiven me, but if I fail to forgive others, those walls can easily become obstacles between me and God. I didn’t make this up, Matthew 6:14-15 says so. If I expect my Heavenly Father to forgive me, then I must forgive others. I need God’s forgiveness on a daily basis, so I had better be about the business of forgiveness.

How often do we ask for God’s forgiveness, yet continue to cling to those little disturbances imposed by others in our daily lives? How often do we ourselves need to be forgiven, but harbor feelings of resentment towards others?

This Easter, I will remember that it was for my sins that Christ was crucified. I will celebrate my Savior’s resurrection and remember the ultimate example of love and forgiveness from my Heavenly Father. I pray that I will be able to forgive others and receive forgiveness when needed. I hope that anyone reading this will do the same. Forgiveness is, after all, an act of love. We cannot have one without the other, and it takes both to survive.

Kappa Delta Pi Induction

2010-03-27T16:28:00.004-04:00

On March 24, 2010, I was inducted into Kappa Delta Pi, International Honor Society in Education. I worked hard for this achievement and it is an honor that I take very seriously both as a life long student of learning and as an educator. My husband and daughter were there to share in this special moment with me. Just as I accepted my certificate and pin, Lydia ran up to greet me. (She later told me that she thought they were giving me candy because the pin was still wrapped in a piece of plastic.) I accepted my certificate and a copy of the Society's Creed. The creed will be framed and hang on the wall of my classroom. What an awesome reminder of the privilege, opportunity, honor, and responsibility of being a teacher. I am proud to be a member of Kappa Delta Pi and I hope that practicing and reflecting on these ideals will help me to be the best educator I can be.

Kappa Delta Pi
International Honor Society in Education
Society Creed

Education is a vital force in any society that encourages universal welfare and individual progress. Education is likewise the cornerstone of democracy and the foundation for personal fulfillment. As an International Honor Society in Education, Kappa Delta Pi has adopted and continues to pledge fidelity to four cherished ideals: Humanity, Science, Service, and Toil.

The Ideal of Fidelity to Humanity is faith in the potential of human beings and in the improvement of the human condition through education; compassion in the contacts one has, as an educator, with humanity; and dedication to the concept that through continuous education, based upon equal opportunity. Persons of all ages, races, and creeds shall find increased opportunity for experiencing more meaningful lives.

The Ideal of Science implies that, as an educator, one will be faithful to the cause of free inquiry and will strive to eliminate prejudice and superstition by withholding judgment until adequate evidence is obtained. One will not distort evidence to support a favorite theory; be blinded by the new or spectacular; nor condemn the old simply because it is old.

The Ideal of Service is the very essence of education, which seeks advancement, not merely for self, but for society as well. The incentive of the great educators of the world has been their desire to serve humanity. Service in education implies living so that others are strengthened and inspired, and striving for the achievement of justice, peace, and a better way of life.

The Ideal of Toil demands the will to do the task that must be done, whether the task pleases or not, and faith in the social necessity and intrinsic reward of the education profession. It implies working with such faith and zeal that others are won to the cause of education. If one life has been given greater and nobler vision, toil has not been in vain.

So to Teach that my words and actions inspire a will to learn; so to serve that each day may enhance the growth of exploring minds; so to live that I may guide young and old to know the truth and love the right.

By accepting membership in Kappa Delta Pi, I have indicated my intention to achieve excellence and to subscribe to these ideals.
Amanda Rorrer
March 24, 2010

Chamber Spellin' Bee

2010-03-21T19:00:00.008-04:00

On Tuesday March 16, 2010, four of my students formed a team to become the Prowling Panthers at the Eden Chamber of Commerce's Annual Spellin' Bee. I was very proud of the students who competed against other teams formed by local business owners. All funds raised from the event went to fund scholarships for Morehead High School seniors who plan to attend Rockingham Community College. We had a great time representing our school and taking part in this community event!

Although we learned that for fundraisers, a budget is often more useful than brains, students gave the adults a run for their money by correctly spelling words like antidisestablishmentarianism. Can you spell that off the top of your head? No dictionaries were allowed, and teams were only given three "free" misses!

A special thank you to following sponsors of the Prowling Panthers: Judith Warren Boutique and Bridal, Eden Drug, Lisa Doss at Eden's Own Journal, and one anonymous donor. Thank you for you support and the opportunity to participate in this event!

Meet Chunk...

2010-03-20T07:59:00.002-04:00

Rockingham County Humane Society
Featured Pet
Chunk
Chunk is a 7 month old Beagle mix. He is neutered and current on his rabies shot. Chunk is a little shy until he gets to know you. But once he does, he has lots of love and licks to share. Chunk needs a home to give him the love and attention he deserves. If you are interested in adopting Chunk or seeing any other animals available for adoption, please visit the Rockingham County Humane Society at 205 Boone Road in Eden, NC. Our adoption fee is $100 for puppies and dogs and $65 for kittens and cats. The adoption fee includes spaying and neutering, shots, and de-worming for all animals. The Rockingham County Humane Society is open to the public Wednesday through Saturday from 11-4.

Pusher or Puller?

2010-03-19T19:27:00.003-04:00

“If you only do what you know you can-you never do very much.”
~Tom Krause

I write with the hope that I inspire others. But writing, like many other things in life, comes with risks. There is always a risk of failure and a sort of sensitivity involved in pouring one’s thoughts out only to leave them open to critique. Last week, another writer asked me where my inspiration comes from. The question alone was enough to inspire me to investigate an answer.

I can name countless things that surround me and provide inspiration. I try to be in tune with the world around me...the people I come in contact with, the things I hear, the things I see. Inspiration comes from my family, other writers, books, sermons, conversations, and even dreams. Sometimes the inspiration pushes me to take action. Sometimes, it pushes me to reflect upon my own actions. Either way, I think inspiration serves as one main purpose: to do something; to act in some way. The choice of whether that action is positive or negative lies within the individual.
There are people who inspire me, but I have learned that people (including myself) are fallible and will inevitably let you down. So, it is best not to put too much stock in the individual. God, on the other hand, is perfect and He never gives us more than we can handle. Furthermore, He never gives us a task without making sure we have to tools to complete what is asked of us. To me, that is comforting inspiration.

Yet, I know it’s important to have role models, mentors, and teachers for some things in life. Such people, those who have “been there and done that”, have the ability to inspire others to push past their achievements and accomplish greater things. Or, they can stop us dead in our tracks with discouragement, pulling us down to become “dead in the water.” So I ask myself: “Am I a pusher or a puller? Am I just waiting for someone to come along and have an influence over me or am I motivated to be that positive influence in someone else’s life?”

Webster’s dictionary defines inspiration as any influence that stimulates thought or action. I wonder how great the world would be if we all put thought into our actions and strived to influence others in a positive way. And, that effect could be doubled if those thoughts included people other than ourselves. In order to be open to inspiration, no matter how big or small, we must have our ears, eyes, minds, and hearts open. I believe having these things open allows us to invite in positive inspiration and weed out the negative influences that only bring us down.

I’m just an ordinary person with an ordinary life. But I believe that God uses ordinary people every day to accomplish great things for Him. I believe we should live each day with inspiration to influence others that they might see Him in our lives and come to know Jesus as their personal Savior. Each day I want to be in tune with the needs of those around me so that I might be the influence that stimulates positive action. Join me, dear reader. Open your heart, lend an ear, extend a hand, show a smile… and inspire someone today!

MHS 5K Results

2010-03-14T09:13:00.024-04:00

The Lord blessed us with bright sunshine, cool temperatures, and blue skies for the Run to the Endzone 5K at Morehead High School yesterday. Panther Pride filled the air as parents and students and various other people from the community came together to make this event a success. The kickoff for the event included a message from the mayor, the presentation of the American flag from MHS ROTC students, and the singing of the national anthem. A local pastor led the crowd in prayer, thanking God for our blessings and the opportunity to come together as we did. I felt a chill go up my arm as I took a moment to thank God that I live in a town where we have the freedom to publicly thank God for his blessings and ask for his protection.

The race began and runners took off straight down the hill on Panther Lane. As much as I wanted to sprint, I tried to remind myself that feeling was just adrenaline talking and that I needed to save some of it for the next hill...going up Pierce Street. I ran up Pierce Street, which is nothing I haven't done before, it's just that I hadn't done it lately. This was where breathing became a challenge and I really had to focus. I made it to the top. Ahhhhh...I knew I had a little time to run downhill and on some flat land before conquering the other hills to come. This was the time I tried to use to set my race pace and coordinate my breathing. The other hills were difficult, but I seemed to be able to navigate them a little better than Pierce Street. Luckily, I was familiar with the layout of the course. I have ran the neighborhood countless times when training for a half marathon a few years ago. When I crossed the two mile mark, my watch displayed 17:54. I was glad of that, but I lost time climbing the hills in the last mile. Going back up Panther Lane was definitely challenging. On Stadium Drive, it was tempting to increase speed as adrenaline began taking over once again. But I held back because I knew I would need everything I had left in me to climb Panther Lane to the finish. I rounded the corner and took off up the hill. I don't really remember feeling my legs at this point. I just remember breathing and focusing on the top of hill, reminding myself to give it everything I had at this point, because that great feeling you get when crossing the finish would only last for a moment.

I crossed the finish line in 29 minutes and 54 seconds. This was a little bit of a disappointing time for me, considering that it was about four minutes over the time I finished the last 5K. But that disappointment didn't last long when I saw the results and learned I had won first place in my age group. This was the first time I have ever won a first place trophy for running, so it was a special accomplishment for me.

Lydia enjoyed participating in the Tot Trot. This was her first race ever and I hope she learned some things about sportsmanship and the value of trying your best and finishing what you start. The picture below is proof that this was a fun filled event for people of all ages!

Thanks to those who worked hard to make this race a success and raise funds for athletics at our school. I enjoyed seeing students involved and hope they'll participate again next year! Here are some other great photos of the event:

5K Run to the Endzone

2010-03-09T22:00:00.010-05:00

Come on out this Saturday and show your support for the Morehead Football Team!

Date
Saturday, March 13, 2010 @ 9:00 AM local time
Address
Morehead Senior High School Football Stadium
134 North Pierce Street

Run To The EndZone 2010- Sponsored by the Morehead High School TouchDown Football Boosters Club. All proceeds will benefit the MHS Football Team. The Course will take runners through the Central area of Eden ending in the EndZone of MHS Staduim. Moderate hills, relatively flat. Cash Prize $$$ Overall Men- $150 Overall Women- $150
CHECK IN AT MHS CAFETERIA EDEN, NC Saturday March 13th 07:00-08:45AM. EARLY PACKET PICKUP AT MHS CAFETERIA Friday March 12th 6:00-7:30 PM.

Don't feel like running? That's OK, You can walk or bring the kids to sign up for the 1 mile Tot Trot! This event is going to be great, so don't miss out on the FUN and the chance to show your school spirit! Leave your paw print by showing your community support!

Strength for Running and Life

2010-03-06T16:34:00.007-05:00

“If you can’t fly then run. If you can’t run then walk. If you can’t walk then crawl. But whatever you do keep moving.” ~Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Everyone has heard that old saying “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” I don’t know who said it first, but surely it was someone who was struggling with something in life. So I wonder, what is it that really makes us tough? What makes us strong? And when is it ok to not have to be tough? These are the thoughts floating in my head as I round the corner at the 1.5 mile mark in my run. I glance at my watch. 15 minutes and 7 seconds. Not an Olympic qualifying time, but understand that two years ago, running this same stretch of road often took me 20 to 25 minutes. I can see that I’ve gained strength. My form has improved and I no longer need to puff my inhaler before I reach the top of that hill I just climbed.

God has granted me the ability to run and running has helped me to find strength in everyday situations. Running has helped me push myself to succeed, and that push for success has spilled over into other areas of my life. I use that time to reflect, ask questions, make plans… and then pray about those same questions and plans. Without a doubt, my faith makes me strong and it is an important part of my personal journey.

Along the next stretch of road I begin thinking about where I’ve been, where I am, where I want to be, and how to get there. Some people say that the tough times in our lives are often what make us stronger. I agree and I remember the time I was in a wheelchair for four months following a car accident in 2001. Although I didn’t know it at the time, God was working in my life to change me and make me stronger. If someone had told me then that I would be where I am today, doing the things I do, I would have assured them they had my future confused with someone else’s.

My mind drifts further as I think about the last half-marathon I ran a few months ago. I spent the summer training for it and I finished the race; but, not without mistakes and upsets which included a fall that messed up my shoulder and ankle. Finishing that race was tough, especially after my fall. I was mad, aggravated, and I wanted to cry. In fact, I did cry for a moment. And then I remembered why I was there. I was there to RUN, not walk, not cry, and certainly not to pout. I remember touching my necklace and reciting the verse inscribed on the back: Philippians 4:13. “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” And so, with God’s grace, I continued running and finished the race strong.

I was reminded of some things during that race that will help me be stronger in life. No matter how hard we train or prepare for life, there is no teacher as great as the real thing we call experience. Nothing other than the real thing could have prepared me for Maryland’s hills of Antietam Battlefield that I encountered in that course. In life, there will be bumps and bruises… or twisted ankles and sore shoulders. The trick is not simply getting up after the fall, it’s the attitude we have once we are back on our feet. We have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and eventually we cross the finish line. We should never plow over someone else in an effort to get there, yet I have found that finish line to be much sweeter when I smile along the way. The lessons learned during the tough times in life do make us stronger and our attitude is a reflection of our character. Personally, I find great comfort in knowing that even in the tough times, I am not alone. I have a God who has blessed me with His comfort and surrounded me with a wonderful support system of family and friends.

And now, as I finish my run and my meandering contemplations about the struggles of life and what makes us strong, I know that I am not here to walk, nor pout, nor cry. I am here to RUN. I am here to do all I can in the time I have, however long (or short) it may be. In today’s fast-paced world, we’re all running the race of life. So, double-knot your sneakers and enjoy the run.

Meet Hilton...

2010-03-04T20:05:00.003-05:00

Rockingham County Humane Society
Featured Pet

Hilton

Please come in and meet me today! I’m a handsome one and a half year old terrier mix and I’m available for adoption now! My favorite pastimes are walking, running, snuggling in front of the TV and reading Bark Magazine. I like adults, kids and other dogs (except boxers). I don’t know why I’m still living at the Humane Society. Everyone overlooks me and this makes me sad. I’m smart, neutered, current on my shots, and heartworm negative. Everyone says I look just like Brad Pitt. My adoption fee is only $75. If you are interested in adopting Hilton or seeing any other animals available for adoption, please visit the Rockingham County Humane Society at 205 Boone Road in Eden, NC. Our adoption fee is $100 for puppies and dogs and $60 for kittens and cats. The adoption fee includes spaying and neutering, shots, and de-worming for all animals. The Rockingham County Humane Society is open to the public Wednesday through Saturday from 11 to 4.

My Daybook Reflection

2010-02-28T22:20:00.004-05:00

"I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, and what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear." ~Joan Didion

Dear Students,

There are 48 hours in the weekend and I spent roughly 14 of them grading 65 Daybooks. Thank you for making each one different and unique, interesting and enjoyable to read. This took the “work” out of grading them! There were no two entries alike and I loved getting lost in the pages of your writing! I want you to know that as I read them, I was making notes about your thoughts, suggestions, concerns, and ideas you shared with me in the reflection letters. We’ll talk soon about the specifics as they apply to each class.

The Daybook is our space to connect literature and writing. I know that times, it is difficult to write about the literature and write about ways that it connects to our lives. But I can already see the progression in the entries from the first to the last. One goal I have for you is to consider and develop your style and voice as a writer and responder to the literature. Each of us has a voice inside…we just need to discover it. Discovery is the easy part because you know yourself better than anyone else! Your voice as a writer is in there, so let it come out in your own creative style-one like no other!

Developing is the hard part…but it’s the guts AND glory of your efforts. I wish I could tell you there is a magic formula for developing as a writer. I’d be lying if I did. Developing comes from writing, and writing, and writing. Revising, reworking, and sharing—these are important parts of the development process too. I do not expect entries to be perfect, but I do what to give you the opportunity to explore and practice. That is why it is necessary to write as often as we do. Just remember that as we live, we grow and develop every day. That’s one of the challenges of living, and the same is true with writing. Each experience we try to put into words, each piece we complete, helps us grow as a person and as a writer.

~Mrs. Rorrer

Meet Hayley and Willow...

2010-02-22T00:18:00.007-05:00

Here are photos and information about two very special puppies in need of a loving home. Each week my daughter and I visit the Rockingham County Humane Society to drop off food, kitty litter, or other supplies which are in constant demand. While we are there, we take the time to photograph a dog or cat and submit the picture to Eden's Own Journal as the Featured Pet. I'm glad warmer days are on the way because that means the days we can spend volunteering more of our time to love and care for these animals will be here soon.

Rockingham County Humane Society Featured Pet
Hayley
Hayley is a seven month old Beagle mix who is very sweet, loving and great with people. Hayley is also very good with children. Hayley is a spayed female that is current on her rabies shot. Hayley came to us as a tiny puppy and is the last in her litter to be adopted. She is very calm for such a young dog and loves for people to talk to her. If you are interested in adopting Hayley and providing her with a good home, please visit the Rockingham County Humane Society at 205 Boone Road in Eden, NC. Our adoption fee is $100 for puppies and dogs and $65 for kittens and cats. The adoption fee includes spaying and neutering, shots, and de-worming for all animals. The Rockingham County Humane Society is open to the public Wednesday through Saturday from 11 to 4.

Rockingham County Humane Society
Featured Pet
Willow
Willow is a seven month old Terrier mix that is very energetic, loving, and friendly. Willow never meets a stranger and loves attention. Willow is a spayed female that is current on her rabies shot. Willow came to us as a tiny puppy and has waited patiently for her forever home. She knows her name and wags her tail when people enter a room. She would love to greet you after a long day at work with the same excitement. If you are interested in adopting Willow and providing her with a good home, please visit the Rockingham County Humane Society at 205 Boone Road in Eden, NC. Our adoption fee is $100 for puppies and dogs and $65 for kittens and cats. The adoption fee includes spaying and neutering, shots, and de-worming for all animals. The Rockingham County Humane Society is open to the public Wednesday through Saturday from 11 to 4.

Endurance for the Race

2010-02-20T20:13:00.005-05:00

I Corinthians 9:24-25 Know ye not that they which run in a race run all, but one receives the prize? So run, that ye may obtain. And every man that strives for the mastery is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown; but we an incorruptible one.

As I laced up my shoes for as run, my daughter said, “I want to go! I want to go!” I thought for a second and said, “Sure, get your shoes on.” She ran to her room and came back with tennis shoes on her feet. (If only she would move that fast in the mornings!) We went outside and I began to show her how to stretch and explain the importance of staying on the correct side of the road. She promised to listen to my directions so that we could run safely. I told her we could walk a little if she felt like she needed to rest, but no matter what, I would not carry her.

I didn’t know how long this sudden fascination with running would last, so I wanted to stay close to the house for our run. We set off down a dead-end road and she ran all the way to the end without stopping (1/2 mile). I expected her to be tuckered out when we returned to the top of the road, but she wanted to keep going. We turned down another road and continued running. I was amazed at those little legs that had to work twice as hard as mine. “This is fun, Mommy!” she yelled.

We ran two whole miles together. Not bad for a four-year-old. We had to slow down a few times, but I urged her to keep on going, to keep moving, and never stop completely. I explained what “endurance” means in terms that she could understand: It’s practicing really hard so our muscles will get stronger. Eventually, we can go faster and farther.

When she said her prayers that night, she said, “Thank-you God for Mommy. We had a good run today.” I tucked her in with a smile on my face and walked away amazed, once again, at my daughter. Her simple prayer reminded me of the ease with which we should be able to approach God in prayer. I also realized that prayer is a vital part of what helps Christians build “endurance” for daily living.

As a runner, I build endurance by logging lots of miles. Sometimes these miles are in less than ideal conditions like extreme cold and even rain. But that’s life! The sun doesn’t always shine and sometimes it’s cold and rainy. There are times in life when we have to slow down; we might want to give up, but we must keep moving…and praying. Sometimes we find ourselves running on the wrong side of the road. Sometimes, it’s the wrong road altogether. Prayer builds Christian endurance by putting us on track for the direction God would have us go. The more we practice prayer, the closer we are drawn to Him and the more prepared we are to handle the difficult days in life, those days when we can’t see the road at all.

As a runner, I want to build endurance and have a healthy body with a strong heart, muscles, and lungs. But as a Christian, I want to build endurance by having a strong relationship with God, by studying His word, and praying about all things. Practicing these things is like the “stretch” before the run. They help one endure with a strong spirit and positive attitude. All the while, we are being shaped to go further and faster for God.

God doesn’t expect us to be perfect, but he does expect us to keep trying and to look to Him for guidance. But unlike my efforts to teach my daughter to endure by not carrying her, God does carry us when we are weary from the race of life. All we have to do is ask, and He will see us to the finish line.

Showcase for Student Work (10th grade English)

2010-02-13T22:33:00.017-05:00

“Write to be understood, speak to be heard, read to grow...” ~Lawrence Clark Powell

This quote offers us an answer to the question students often ask: "Why write?" We write to understand ourselves, to make sense of the world around us, and hope that somewhere along the way, others will understand us too. Writing gives us the stage on which to be heard, yet the means to carry us farther than our voice will reach. And when we read the work of others, we come closer to understanding the world around us. We see our similarities and our differences; we learn and we grow. And in doing so, we educate ourselves and become better equipped to handle change and impact change on the world we inhabit.

Thanks to each of you who chose to share your work on this site. I applaud your strengths, your efforts, and your success...not just today, but every day. The Where I'm From poems are posted in the order in which I received them from you. Read the work of each other and share your positive thoughts in the comments box. Speak, hear, and grow...

Where I'm From...
I am from baseball, from a Rawlings glove and an Easton baseball bat.

I am from a house on a farm with 15 acres of rolling hills and ponds with plenty of fish.

I am from long days of fishing with my dad around our pond under the large shade tree on Saturdays.

I am from family get-togethers for Christmas, decorating the tree, eating turkey, biscuits, gravy, and ham, and just being together.

I am from the family making jokes about each other, yet sticking up for each other if someone else were to put us down.

From my dad who taught me to never cheat anyone and to treat others like you would want to be treated.

I am from a Christian family who goes to church every Sunday to sing and praise God.

I am from Stoneville, North Carolina and my ancestors are from the mountains of Virginia.

From my Dad who always found the time to help me practice baseball, and my mom who always helped me with my school work.
~B.D.

Where I'm From...
I am from the early smell of smoke from fresh French toast and cigarettes. I am from cutting small trees and pulling them like a skidder.

I am from the house on the hill with trees all around and waiting for the monkey grass flowers to bloom. I am from the sky with a full moon.

I am from the backyard where I picked flowers for the one I love. I am from the relaxing hammock, where the humming birds hummed.

I am from my Nannie’s house where I learned how to play Rook with Uncle George. I am from the chairs on the front porch talking about old times with my Uncle Billy. I am from talking baseball with my Uncle Tommy, who I wished could have seen the game from outside.

I am from the singing at churches, as my papa played the mandolin. I am from the beach, waking up to the smell of the ocean in a pop-up camper.

I am from work when the sun rises until it sets and never stop until it’s met. I am from the words, “never underestimate anybody” and I didn’t believe it until later.

I am from the Baptist, where I can wear jeans on Sundays . I am from where my Jesus can heal the broken hearted and can set the captive free, that is what He did for me.

I am from the land beyond the Stoneville tracks. I am from a papa who only drove Macks. I am from Christmas gravy and biscuits. I am from the hot strawberry cobbler on special days, Mama can make it anyway.

I am from my papa Smurf’s hands, the only place I did not cry, I wish he never would have said goodbye. I am from a father’s hand of steel, the hard work he has done, will never be forgotten, that’s why we are so rotten.

I am from tobacco raising perfectionists and killing pigs for winter. I am from a man who lost his right eye to make sure I was taken care of. I am from the best family in the world, even though we have cried, I never want to say goodbye.
~W.N.

Where I'm From...
I am from organic washing powders, home grown herbs, and health food store talks with the cashier, from cake baking at two in the morning and carmexed lip prints pressed daily on foreheads.

I am from the recluse Brightwood road, in a town made of snobs and caregivers, from the junk-food filled citizens who keep to themselves and the town that seems to stand still compared to the outside world.

I am from the line of apple trees surrounded by rabbit traps and the clover filled yard, from the worn fourwheeler paths and tree top dear stands.

I am from early bedtimes on Christmas Eve and blonde hair with blue eyes, from Nana and J.W. Walker who always eat and cook.

I am from the stubborns, hard-headeds, loud-mouths, and immatures.

From “You'll always be my little girl” and “Don't date til you're thirty.”

I am from loud, God-fearing, southern baptists, from the strong-willed, blunt church goers.

From the Cherokee Indians who stole “Burning Town”, from the fried taters and the fruit pies with Granny's banana pudding.

From the runaway horse-driven buggy and the permanent injuries it gave my mother's father, from the drunken, absent man who abandoned my own father and the brave women who kept him sane.

I am from youth mission trips, Brianna Corum's sensible mind, the strong-minded women who never back down and my lord and savior Jesus Christ.
~M.W.

Where I'm From...
I am from homemade Mexican food, from washable markers, and band aides from first aid kits when I didn’t need them.

I am from loving homes and not so loving homes just in it for the money, from swimming in the backyard in our old house, from family reunions with the smell of cooking in the air.

I am from the roses in my mom’s garden; the weeds that my mom has me pull out every hot summer day.

I am from the tamales at Christmas time and New Years and enjoying cooking, from birth parents Arturo Cervantes and Maria Guadalupe Cervantes and adoptive parents Victor and Sonia, and from a long line of Ochoa’s.

I am from the working hard to get something done correctly and leadership.

From the “Step on a crack break your mamas back” and from “Respect is a two way street”

I am from not going to church to being a catholic, and finally to being a Christian and discovering God’s love for me.

I’m from a city called Lakewood in California and a couple of minutes away from the beach, from salsa made with a ridiculous amount of a wide variety of chili peppers and Oreo Cookies.

From the police banging on the door in the middle of the night and riding in a police car for the first time, the joy of being chosen to be a part of a loving family instead of being born into one, and the summers being watched by my grandma.

I am from a plastic box full of pictures, videos of weddings, Christmas time, and birthday parties, and family gatherings.
~S.O.

Where I'm From...
I am from the bone chilling ice and fluttering butterflies, from the Sony CD's to Apple iPods and the Dell desktops into laptops.

I am from the tree house in the tall, billowing oak, the leaves whispering in the breeze as laughter fills the honey suckle air.

I am from the daffodils that sprout in the yard, the great oaks that shelter from the rain and provide a hideaway, from the rivers that flow with life through the land of only two.

I am from the incense that burns to calm the nerves, from Great Grandma Tootsie and her delicious cooking, and my sister Stephanie with her military attributes, from the Montgomerys, Sutphins, and Burns', the Wilmots, Cooks, and McBrides.

I am from the stubbornness of those who won't comply and the hotheads with their jealous tendencies.

From the "prancing little faerie princess" across the hard wood floor, and from the "I ain't perfect!" Southern slurs.

I am from the pagans who love nature and believe in New Souls who are just beginning their journey, the In-Betweens who have seen more than the New but less than the Old, and the Old Souls who grow weary of the changes and only bear a few life times left.

I am from the Land of Two Rivers and a long line of Germans with the turkeys basting and the corn shucking.

I am from the rolling hills of the Midwest where the horses run free as my grandfather of many greats brings food to his tribe, and from the Crashing waves on the English coast.

I am from the Sunbelt of Georgia, the military bases of my life, and I am from Iraq and Afghan where friends lie in wait.
~R.M.

Where I'm From...
I am from numerous sandwiches filled with Jiffy peanut butter and Smuckers jelly, from Disney sundresses, from plain white tennis shoes, from cheesy eggs.

I am from the house with brown siding, hardwood floors, a basketball goal, and a dog running around the large yard. I am from the house on Kingston Road with a garden, a porch with wicker rocking chairs, and a swing set that has been left to be guided by nothing but the wind.

I am from the newly bloomed pink and yellow roses, and beautiful bright yellow buttercups. I am from the monkey grass and wildflowers that surround the birdbath and the concrete.

I am from the huge family that gets together once a month to laugh, create new memories, to there for each other at all times, smiling and laughing through it all. I am from Sandra and Tommy and Amanda.

I am from those who are quick-tempered, nosey, stubborn, and have redneck tendencies. I am from those who stick by each other’s side, no matter what.

I am from “Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game” and “Always smile and live your life to the fullest because every minute you spend unhappy is sixty seconds of happiness that’s lost forever.” I’m from “Don’t tell me the sky’s the limit, when there are footsteps on the moon” and “Don’t just reach for the stars, reach for the moon and beyond.”

I am from the church with lightly colored bricks, with white fences surrounding it to keep the sheep and cattle away.

I am from Eden and NC135, from Watergate salad, hot chocolate, and Kentucky spoon bread.

I am from the sister who got brushes stuck in my hair constantly and barber shopped my Barbie dolls hair, from the cousin who taught me how to spell my name.

I am from the brown house with maroon doors and shutters on the dirt road, from the place where there are pictures for every major and minor events and every memory, the good, the bad, and everything in between.
~B.K.

Where I'm From...
I am from blueberry muffins, from The Beach Boys and camping weekends.

I am from the little white house with a big comforting feeling, from sneaking out onto the porch just so Papa would have to run after me.

I am from the small, nameless flowers in the front yard, the terrible smell but beautiful sight.

I am from long johns, hot chocolate and early Christmas Eve nights that led to smiles at six a.m. the following morning, from Chaney’s to the flea market, from all day cookouts that were followed by all night swim’s at Jan’s house, from the safe feeling from holding the hand of the man I looked up to as we walked to the “big wata” with all the big creatures that could swallow me whole.

I am from the will-minded, from honesty that always meant the most, from big hugs and warm kisses, and movie nights that always ended in Mema carrying me to my bed.

I am from “You’ll always be my little girl”, from “Goodnight, I love you, sweet dreams, I’ll see you in the morning” as Mama tucked me in at night.

I am from Christians who tell and sing stiff-legged but stand with Baptists who teach and move with the spirit.

I am from Eden where “Southern Hospitality” is always found, from Wal-mart trips that last way longer than expected, from friends who watched Barney, played with baby dolls, and now stay up all night talking about boys.

From the movies we “chillins” acted out on the adults played cards and talked about the “good ole days”, from Apple Festivals where Mema and Mama pushed me on stage so everyone could hear my cute, but strong 5 year old voice.

I am from the light wooden chest with the turquoise hearts where my childhood lay, from late nights spend with Michaela have conversations we thought we would never remember but still joke about today, from emotional bible studies that left mascara painted faces but hearts filled with the love of Jesus Christ.
~B.C.

Where I'm From...
I am from soul food, Michael before he was Jackson, and Obama before he was President.

I am from the gray, white house, with black shutters, and white gutters.

I am from the Venus Fly Trap, and the beautiful red rose growing in the soil, the grasslands with purple violets, and tall trees.

I am from Sunday dinner and a group of athletes, from Auntie Joyce, and her nephew Tyree.

I am from the brown eyed, big and strong, and will never disrespect a woman, and a family that shows courage.

From never look down and always keep your head up, son. And always make Mama proud baby. And that’s going to be a big boy. And always stay focused.

I am from the Christian faith. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.

I am from Eden and Coan, chicken and dumplins.

From the great great grandpa with a white brother, the full blooded Indian grandma, and the black mother of me, and also the strongest fighting woman I’ve ever seen.

I am from the photo album of great memories full of delight.
~K.H

Where I'm From...
I’m from Sunday morning breakfasts before church, slap bracelets when they were still cool and watching cartoons in the early morning.

I am from the old country house in the middle of no where. Where we wondered in the woods and then got fussed out when we got home because we mess up our shoes in the creek.

I am from the many kinds of flowers we used to pick out of Nannies garden and the bushes of pretty yellow flowers out by my aunt and uncles house.

I am from the long car rides to the beach in the summer, the long line of military veterans from Uncle Wayne, who was in the Navy, to my Aunt Terry, who was in the Army, working hard for your money, saying I love you as many times a day as possible.

I am from the hardheadedness and those who aren’t afraid to say what’s on their mind. From messing around with family to being strong and being there for each other when someone was having problems.

From “if you can’t say anything nice then keep your mouth shut” and “two wrongs don’t make a right” and “live for today.”

I’m from the little country Baptist church that is like a second family; from the times that the most people at church is when there is food.

I’m from Eden, the small town with big dreams. I’m From Uncle Wayne’s sour dough bread to Daddy’s Brunswick stew on a cold winter’s day.

I’m from the two uncles I lost in the Korean War, from watching my nephew grow up fast as ever. From my second family who treats me like their own.

I am from the medals Papa left from the Korean War, from the memories the family shares about the past. From the heartaches of losing a loved one and being there for each other through it all.
~S.C.

Where I'm From...
I am from Saturday morning cartoons, from Niesa’s sausage, and Super Nintendo.

I am from the tornado of my bedroom, the curl of my couch, and the smell of Mama’s candles.

I am from the big old tree out front, the curves of the tree steady for climbing.

I am from Saturday afternoon reunions and the taking of many pictures, from Velma Watkins, the Moorefields, and McDaniels.

I am from the stubborn and playful.

From waking up early for Santa and going to bed earlier, anticipating the Tooth Fairy.

I am from not being where I was or should be with God, but working on that daily.

I’m from Eden, North Carolina, with fried chicken at reunions and freshly peeled oranges before bed.

From the “beach” outback, the digging of holes, and walking to the “beach”, by the “sand,” and to a friend’s house with Papa.

I am from dusty old photo albums coming off the shelf, stories being shared from generation to generation, and the love shared by one another in many ways.
~A. M.

Where I'm From...
I am from fields of corn, from sweet ice tea, and homemade biscuits.

I am from the shed with the tractor with bells of hay all around.

I am from tomatoes in the garden, from dandelions we use to makes wishes on.

I am from fishin with my family, from Mammaw, Pappaw, and the sweetest woman in the world, my mother.

I am from workin on the farm, to swimmin in creeks and ponds.

I am from stories my grandpa told me about the war, to stories about Wilburn Waters.

From that little white church where we all held hands singing and praying.

I am from Chattaroy, West Virginia, where the mines blackened the town. From biscuits in the oven to bacon on the stove.

From stories about my grandma walking to school because of a family fight.

From my grandpas house, and that hill on the farm where we had our picnics and casted our reels waitin on a bite.
S.O.

Roots, Branches, or...Both?

2010-01-29T22:58:00.000-05:00

"A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin, and culture is like a tree without roots." ~Marcus Garvey

And so I ask, how can we grow without roots? We grow many branches throughout our lives; but our roots, wherever they began, wherever they are, wherever they end up, are an important part of who we are. We may choose to embrace them or discard them, but we cannot ignore them.

Students, I am really impressed with the Where I'm From poems you wrote! Each of you took an introspective look into your past and shared pieces of your history that make you unique. Remember our connection to World Literature for this assignment: Our goal is to first examine our individual past and culture; to appreciate our own uniqueness, so that we can then have a deeper appreciation for the different cultures and literary histories of other people.

I told you that while you were working on your polished pieces, I would be working as well. I shared with you that I have written several of these poems. I find that no matter how much I write, there is still much to tell. Since I have already shared a poem that is reflective of my childhood,I focused on more recent aspects of my life for this particular poem. I hope you enjoy.

Where I'm From...

I am from the hardwood floors we sanded and stained ourselves, Great Value coffee perking on the stove, and a living room overflowing with Barbies.

I am from the grey house and our big front porch where we sit on our wooden swing and watch the sunset in the west. Here, we marvel at all the colors of the sky.

I am from the butterfly bushes and the “Lydia tulips” I planted when she was in my belly. From the yard where we danced barefoot in the rain and flew like airplanes one summer evening, too happy to care whether anyone was watching.

I am from pulling out my china on Christmas morning to serve breakfast, from honesty is the best policy, from Robert, Lydia, Lil Bit, and Sophie, too.

I am from the husband who leads me by example in love, and Saturday mornings when I can snuggle on the couch with my daughter.

From “I love you more than a pig loves slop” and “Friends? Best Friends. Forever? Forever and ever.”

I am from Baptists, couples devotions, and the belief that God must be the center of our marriage.

I am from Stoneville, where my husband’s entire family once occupied every house on the road (or so it seems to me), from potato soup when I’m sick, and rice and beans in the crock pot when there’s snow on the ground.

I am from late nights long ago, before Bob and Delta had a kid or dogs, the kitchen with my Brady Bunch floor and my matching stove, and the hall that houses our family’s military history.

I am from the scrapbooks, one for each year, each one two inches thick. The ones I have pieced together with painstaking love so that my daughter will remember and know that she is loved.

~Mrs. Rorrer
January 28, 2010

Where I'm From

2010-01-26T19:52:00.000-05:00

Where Are You From?
"If you don't know where you're from, you'll have a hard time saying where you're going." ~Wendell Berry
We need to understand our roots to know our place in the world.

Since my students and I will be writing Where I'm From poems in class this week, I thought I would repost one of my old ones. This one focuses on memories from Dad's side of the family. I love to introduce this poem as a neat way to get students thinking and writing about things they have personal connections to. It's really awesome to see them take the template and make it their own. It's a great way to get to know students and gain insight into their lives.

Here's where I am from...
I am from fun-shaped pancakes, Nike before it was Nike Air, punchbowl cake and coffee, tin foil, and hose pipes.

I am from the white house with green shutters, the playhouse where I made mud pies with red berries and invited Daddy in for tea, and the living room where we broke the Atari joystick playing Pac Man.

I am from the angel trumpets in my grandmother's garden and the bushes of peonies that lined Daddy's sidewalk.

I am from the ghost stories of Coleman Street and a long line of dancers, from Grandma Elsie and her son Timmy, from honesty, hard work, and hugs given daily.

I am from stubbornness and those who speak their minds, from the holiday gatherings where I laughed with cousins as a child and cried with the same ones when Nannie died.

From "you're my favorite horse if you don't ever win a race" and "Don't take no wooden nickels." I'm from the "Sunny Side of the Street."

I am from the Methodists who sing all 4 verses of the hymn on Sunday morning and the Baptists who believe the Creation Story is no myth and that God is in control.

I am from Eden, the Wright brother's, the authentic First in Flight. From Nannie's orange Slice drink in a bottle on a hot summer day and Daddy's salmon cakes poppin' in their own grease on the stove.

From the soldier who served in Desert Storm when I was in the 5th grade, that feisty woman with the poofy white hair, and the woman who raised me like I was her own daughter.

I am from those who rest permanently on a hill off Sneed Road, the pictures I have to remember them by, from a father who tells me I am his hero, when really he is mine.

Cold Noses...Warm Hearts

2010-01-17T15:17:00.000-05:00

The average dog has one request to all humankind. Love me."
~Helen Exley

Temperatures have dropped to record lows and the remnants of month old snow still lurk in shady spots all around our town. Cold weather has hit us hard over the last few weeks. We feel the stinging wind as we wrap our coats tightly and head out the door. We put on gloves, maybe an extra pair of socks, and make sure our kids wear an undershirt. Maybe you’ve enjoyed a nice pot of vegetable soup and a warm grilled cheese sandwich…Or chilly beans with crackers. “Good for you” food—the kind that warms you from the inside out.

But what about your animals? Do you have dogs or cats or any other living animal that depends on you for survival? Yes, I know that animals have a thick coat of fur, but in the frigid temperatures we have been experiencing, even the animals get cold. Wild animals are free to roam in search of food, water and shelter—a freedom that domesticated animals do not have. They depend on us totally for survival and do not deserve to be left in the cold. Remember that water freezes, and no animal can drink frozen water. When we get too cold, our feet and hands hurt. The same is true for animals. Their paws can hurt and even become frostbitten.

I am aware that some people will never agree with me in thinking that a family pet actually belongs in the home. I do however think it sad that those who do not share their home with their animals will never know the true companionship an animal can bring to one’s life. Dogs especially are pack animals and long to be near people. They deserve more than a life condemned to the far corner of a yard on a short chain or a little pen with no room for exercise.

I firmly believe that being a responsible pet owner consists of much more than delivering food and water to an animal once a day. We must love our animals and show compassion towards them and care for their well-being. If you are a pet owner, please take some extra precautions during these winter months to see that your animal has the provisions it needs to stay warm and healthy this winter. I urge you to bring your animals inside, but if this is not a possibility, check the water often, provide an extra blanket for warmth, and take steps to see that your animal is dry and blocked from the icy wind.

Animals cannot talk, but if they could, I bet they’d say “Thank you” and “I love you.” As for me, a lick and the wag of my dog’s tail is all I need to know that I am loved.

For more information about animal welfare visit these sites: www.dogsdeservebetter.org or www.unchainyourdog.org or www.HumaneSociety.org

On Being a Mom...

2010-01-15T22:13:00.000-05:00

A daughter is a little girl who grows up to be a friend. ~Author Unknown

When my daughter was a baby, I admit that I was often frustrated. As a new mother, I didn’t exactly find the whole motherhood thing to be all I had envisioned. She cried and I cried…and I’m pretty sure there were times when my husband cried too. But we all found a happy medium and here we are: taking one day at a time and actually loving it. We are a happy family.

Things have changed for us over the last four and a half years. There are no more dirty diapers and binkies are a thing of the past. No bottles and no jars of gushy, stinky baby food. (Today it’s mostly plain spaghetti noodles and chicken nuggets.) These are the little things that pass with time, as all things do. And when they do, new challenges arise to take their place. We’ve survived potty training, monsters in the dark, the first day of preschool – which I have to say was harder for us than for her.

Now we’re at a special time – the time when mom and dad are still cool, we still have most all of the answers we need to satisfy her ever-inquisitive mind, and we’re still her best buddies and biggest heroes. She still likes to be held and snuggled and doesn’t mind giving away those precious kisses and hugs. I guess as parents we’re still in a dream state because it seems like she’ll be our girl forever. We’ve not yet been tainted by teenage driving, the wrong boyfriend, or anything else that may surface in the teenage years.

Sometimes my daughter and I get to spend entire days together and do special girl things like shopping and going to lunch. Yesterday she wanted to help me in the kitchen, so I let her stand in the chair to wash the dishes. I didn’t even point out that some of the dishes still had suds on them when she placed them in the drainer. The important thing was that she wanted to help. She wanted to be with me, doing whatever I was doing. She felt empowered when I trusted her to wash the dishes “all by herself.”

I’ve learned a lot from watching my daughter over the last four years. She is not the only one who has been changing and growing. I may have potty trained her, but she is constantly life-training me. I’ve learned more about the person I want to be and I think that if I strive each day to be a little more like my daughter, I will be a better person. She’s eager to help others and loves her friends. Their happiness and feelings are of great importance to her. If they are sad, chances are, she is sad too. When she loves, there is no middle ground. She loves whole-heartedly and unconditionally. And in the same breath, she is learning to say “I’m sorry” when necessary. The difference between her and most adults I know is that I can look in her eyes and see that her apologies are sincere.

Sometimes I think she got the raw end of the deal by getting me for a mom. Surely there are mothers out there who are more fun, could give her more things in life, or could play pretend and Barbies better than I do. There are moms who can tie a prettier bow in a ponytail and bake better cookies. But there’s one thing they can’t do, and that’s love her like I do. I don’t always have the most patience and sometimes my frustrations shine through, despite efforts to stay calm. But we still enjoy those special times when it’s just us two, painting our nails, reading a book, or singing together in the car. Her smile can light up a room and she is my best girl friend.

So while she is learning to spell with the alphabet letters that decorate my refrigerator, I am learning to love with a more open heart and appreciate the tiny hands and little feet that make a big impression on everyone we meet.

Meet Savannah...

2010-01-09T20:32:00.000-05:00

“The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated”
~Mahatma Gandhi

Rockingham County Humane Society
Featured Pet
Savannah

Savannah is a great cat in need of a loving home. She is very sweet and great with people. She loves to be rubbed and purrs when her ears are scratched. Savannah and her kittens have been with us for a while. Some of her kittens have been adopted, but two (almost grown now) are still waiting for a home just like mom. If you are interested in adopting Savannah, please visit the Rockingham County Humane Society at 205 Boone Road in Eden, NC. Our adoption fee is $100 for puppies and dogs and $60 for kittens and cats. The adoption fee includes spaying and neutering, shots, and de-worming for all animals. The Rockingham County Humane Society is open to the public Wednesday through Saturday 11-4.

Teaching into 2010

2010-01-01T10:43:00.000-05:00

“The illiterate of the 21st century will not be those who cannot read and write but those who cannot learn, unlearn, and relearn.”
~Alvin Toffler

Well, if you’re reading this, it means that 2010 is finally here. 2009 will soon be a distant memory. It was a great year for me; I had some tough times and struggles, but these were outnumbered by far with blessings. I usually start the year out with a few resolutions--nothing over the top, just the usual stuff—reactivate and stick to my work out plan (I find I tend to slack off a little over the holidays), eat healthier, go to bed earlier, be more organized, etc. I lead a pretty healthy life and avoid risky behaviors, so I try to use New Years as a chance to refocus and evaluate the impact of healthy habits.

I avoid trying to set far reaching goals that are impractical or unattainable. I’d rather focus on a few mini goals like stepping stones to where I want to be. Since 2005 I have been attending college to become a high school English teacher. My husband and I have counted down the semesters to graduation with each passing year. This year marks a new beginning for me as I complete the final phase of this level of my education and make the transition from student to teacher. I have been granted a new opportunity as I step into the classroom and fill my new role as “student –teacher”. I have the chance to see young minds develop before my eyes, activate imaginations and possibilities, and give dreams that gentle push they need to one day become reality.

Teaching is not a right I am earning by virtue of the degree I will receive in May. Teaching is a privilege; it is a lifestyle and a way of life. This year the new leaf I turn over will be one of discovery in the classroom; an opening of the possibilities that lie before me and my students. I am excited and eager to see young minds in action and hear their unique stories. This year will not be about what “I” can do. Instead, it will be about what “they”, my students, can do.

Some veterans in the field of education might say that my inexperience makes me over confident or that I’ll soon find out what’s really in store when I get there. But I think life experience has value and that I am at the perfect point in my life to begin a teaching career. Everything experienced before now has brought me to this point. I have trained and studied hard. There have been many late nights, long papers, and difficult tests…both the written kind and the kind you cannot see. I place a high value on education as well. I have seen the impact of an education and the lack of one on friends and family members. Although he was a smart man, my grandfather could not read or write. But I will be his first grandchild to earn a bachelor’s degree. Surely I am where I am today, in part, because a teacher, -- especially a few college professors-- believed in me. These are not just words, but truth. I intend to lead by the example set before me and I believe in my students. I am grateful for the privilege to teach and learn in 2010. I cannot wait to see what wonders lie ahead.

Meet Butch...

2009-12-27T17:10:00.000-05:00

Rockingham County Humane Society
Featured Pet
Butch

Butch is a 1 year old Boston Terrier. He is neutered and current on his rabies shot. Butch is a good boy and loves attention. He is very playful and would be a great addition to a family with children. Butch will make you smile with his acrobatic abilities! He loves to see a familiar face and can jump three feet high when excited or ready to play. He is just the right size for a house dog and is energetic enough to keep up with the kids. He is waiting for a special family to adopt him in time to spend Christmas by the fire. If you are interested in adopting Butch or seeing any other animals available for adoption, please visit the Rockingham County Humane Society at 205 Boone Road in Eden, NC. Our adoption fee is $100 for puppies and dogs and $60 for kittens and cats. The adoption fee includes spaying and neutering, shots, and de-worming for all animals. The Rockingham County Humane Society is open to the public Wednesday through Saturday from 11-4.

Butch is a good boy. My daughter loved playing with him. It's not too late to give Butch his forever home. Could you provide this dog the care and companionship he needs? Go see him today...you won't regret it!

The Rorrer Family Christmas Letter 2009

2009-12-24T16:21:00.000-05:00

Every year I write a Christmas letter to include in our cards. I like to take the time to reflect on the year and let everyone know a little about each person in our family. I can't possibly fit everything on one page, but I try to highlight the big stuff. I thought I would post our 2009 letter for all of you to read.

Dear Family and Friends,

We hope this letter finds you all happy and healthy. We can hardly believe that 2009 is coming to a close. The Lord has blessed our family in many special ways this year and we look forward to the blessings ahead in 2010.

Lydia is still growing and as sweet as ever. She had her first dance recital this year and she was the cutest bumblebee to grace the stage. She is now in her 2nd year of dance, preschool, and Awanas. She has worked hard on her part for the Christmas play this year as well. She’ll be singing her very own solo and we are very proud.

Robert is still shift manager at Unifi and we are thankful that he has a good job in these uncertain times. He is a wonderful father and husband. Robert is very supportive of everything we do; Lydia and I are proud to be “his girls.”

I just finished up my internship at Dudley High School and the last semester of school work before student teaching. I have enjoyed the transition from student to teacher. In January, I will be student teaching at Morehead High School. Our family is looking forward to graduation in May of 2010 and we are praying that I will find a job within the county.

This year has been a great one, filled with lots of fun and excitement. We keep a busy schedule and always seem to find ourselves involved in something. In the coming year, be sure to pick up a copy of Eden’s Own Journal and read my column that appears every two weeks. And for those of you who live out of town, but are computer savvy, visit my blog and read about all the things going on in our family. The web address is www.runningwrite.blogspot.com.

We hope each of you enjoy the special time of Christmas. We are learning more every day that family and friends are our greatest blessings, so we want to tell each of you, those near and far, that you are loved and dear to our hearts. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!

Love,
The Rorrers
Robert, Amanda, Lydia
Lil Bit and Sophie, too

Patience...Can I have some of that?

2009-12-22T07:38:00.000-05:00

Children seldom misquote. In fact, they usually repeat word for word what you shouldn't have said. ~Author Unknown

My daughter loves her Barbies. She can get lost in her world of pink doll houses and purple convertibles for hours. She talks out loud, making her dolls carry on full conversations with one another. I love to listen to her and I sometimes giggle at what I hear. But I stopped in my tracks when I heard, “Ken will be here in a minute! He called and said ‘BE PATIENT!’”

There was no need to wonder where she heard those words because she only hears them ten times a day from my own mouth. “We’ll be there in a minute. Be Patient!” “Supper will be ready soon. Be Patient!” and on and on it goes. I know I’m not the only parent who says these words on a daily basis, yet how often do we as adults fail to be patient ourselves? I’m just as guilty as the next person. I can’t wait to “hurry up and graduate,” can’t wait for the weekends, and even in the middle of a good run, I can’t wait for an ice cold tea and a hot shower so I can get on with the things I have to do that day. But if we aren’t patient with the little things in life, how will we ever conquer and overcome the big things?

We live in a world that expects everything yesterday. Most of the time, we fail to focus on today for worrying about tomorrow. We all have places to be, deadlines, responsibilities, and goals to achieve. Can we really expect our children to learn patience when we constantly rush them along? “Hurry up and brush your teeth,” “Hurry up and get dressed,” “Hurry up and get in the car,” and on and on this goes, too.

Psalm 46:10 tells us, “Be still and know that I am God.”In that stillness, those moments when we really stop and listen to God, we are most likely to hear what He may be telling us, which sometimes may be: “Be patient!” We often communicate our wants and desires to God, but rarely stop to hear what He has to say. Yet, having patience doesn’t mean sitting idly by, waiting for an answer to fall from the sky. It’s not waiting for something to be handed to you or waiting for the right thing to “just happen.” Instead, having patience means taking action, doing our part, our job, our task, our responsibility. It’s doing all we are capable of, even under pressure or when the odds are against us, and trusting in God to handle the rest.

Back in the year 1377, author William Langland was the first to say that “patience is a virtue,” but I say that it’s still one hard concept even for adults to grasp. I don’t claim to be an expert on patience (nor the Bible for that matter) but I know that every day I am learning more about the value of both. So the next time I plead for patience from my child, I’ll try to remember she really is listening. And I’ll remind myself to pause and do the same.

But sometimes, at the end of the day, I just feel like the chicken here!!!

Pain or Suffering?

2009-12-15T20:47:00.000-05:00

"Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional."
~From What I Talk About When I Talk About Running
By: Haruki Murakami

November 18, 2009...

I just finished reading the book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, a memoir by award-winning novelist and runner, Haruki Murakami. I found the above quote about suffering and pain in the early pages of his book and I’ve been pondering over the quote ever since. Even as a runner, when I read this, I thought, “Geez! Who wants to suffer?” If I actually thought of running as pain and suffering, I would have quit yesterday, or the day before.

Of course I see running as a physical challenge and of course I have experienced some pain along the way. A sprained ankle, sore muscles, joint aches…nothing I can’t handle and nothing I haven’t taken steps to educate myself on how I can prevent them. I’ve even learned the hard way NOT to eat a sausage biscuit the morning of a long run and how to hold my breath when passing road kill in July and August. And since I have asthma, sometimes I have difficulty breathing when running. But overall, my breathing has improved since I became a runner, and I’m sure my blood pressure and resting heart rate have too. So, it might be better if I stick with my old saying, which doesn’t involve pain or suffering. It’s this: “There may be a day when I can’t do this anymore. Today is not that day.” I found that saying in Runner’s World several years ago, and it has been a favorite mantra ever since.

Yet, I can see why some runners might value this quote about inevitable pain and optional suffering, especially distance runners. After all, nothing in life comes free—or totally devoid of pain and suffering at some point—anything worth having, be it a job, a house, an education, a good marriage, requires hard work. And I’ve never trained for and finished a race without hard work.

As I set out on a run I asked myself which part of the run was the “suffering” part. And then I began to understand. I’d have to say it was the ½ mile hill at the 60% incline near my house. Even after 3 years of climbing this hill, it takes mental and physical endurance to reach the top. Slowly and steadily I climb, thinking about each step, placing one foot in front of the other and telling myself to keep breathing. Each time I climb this hill, a fleeting thought of walking enters my mind. And then as I continue coming closer to the top, the thought dissipates and I’m glad I kept on running. The hill is hardest near the top- when I’m worn out from the climb and I can almost see the top, but I still have a choice to continue or stop.

December 12, 2009

And now, three weeks later, I’m still thinking about that quote, even though I haven’t gone for a run in two weeks. I have an inflamed tendon in my foot and the doctor’s orders were to slow down and let it heal. When I asked how “slow” I needed to go, his reply was, “If it hurts, don’t do it. Cut back on your distance and don’t run on consecutive days.” So now I really get it…the pain in my foot has made it all too real. This aggravated tendon is the result of extremely flat feet and it has made walking and running two painful tasks. My thinking about the situation has been as follows: I have to walk, but I love to run. Right now I can’t do either without pain. So in order to do what I have to do (walk) and eventually be able to do what I love (run), then I must do something I really don’t like (slow down…rest…take days, maybe weeks off from running). Well, not running equals suffering to me…

December 15, 2009

Today I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I set out for a short run. I decided I wouldn’t push myself too hard and I allowed myself to walk when necessary. I just couldn’t take it anymore; I needed to feel sunshine and wind on my face and sweat on my brow. I tried to run at least 4 minutes at a time and walk for 2 minutes or less. It took me and Sophie, my dog, 40 minutes to finish 3.3 miles, but today’s pain will make tomorrow’s run somewhat easier…at least I hope so. Or maybe that's when the real suffering will begin.

It’s amazing how much your muscles can forget and the strength and endurance they can lose in two to three weeks. My mileage per week has decreased significantly since I ran the ½ marathon in October, but here lately, that mileage has come to a screeching halt. In his book, Murakami says our muscles are like animals, that they would rather not work hard, and that they forget the memory of the hard work of training when we fail to push them (p. 71). I think he’s right. But it doesn’t matter what I think on this one; science has proven that when we don’t use it, we lose it.

So the pain felt today was an all-over-the-body pain, and I know I’ll feel it tomorrow. My chest hurt as I struggled to breath. My body hasn’t gotten adjusted to the change in the weather and this time of year someone is always burning leaves in my neighborhood. (The remnants of a really bad sinus infection and chest congestion didn’t help my breathing either.) My foot actually felt okay…thanks to time off and new $300 orthotics for my shoes. But my legs screamed at me in anger because they were not only out of practice, but they were carrying about 10 extra pounds I’ve gained in the last 2 months. I’m the kind of person who can eat whatever I want as long as I exercise. But when I put the brakes on physical activity and forgo the brake on eating, I swell up quicker than Violet from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

All that aside—I would rather suffer like this during a run than not run at all. I needed to feel the sunshine today and so did my dog Sophie. I looked down at her while we were running and I could see that she was happy to be restored to her faithful duty of keeping me company on the road. I’m sure you’ve heard it said that running helps to clear a person’s mind. Well, I can tell you it really does. Why would I want all that junk in my head that could cleared and sorted through during a run? To me, that’s optional suffering, and I opt not to do it. Whew. Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to get back out there today. I’ve really missed it.

Lydia Loves Animals

2009-12-13T22:00:00.000-05:00

Last week, Lydia and I visited the Humane Society. I love taking her there because she loves to visit the animals and it is good for the dogs to come in contact with children. When we visit, I know that she is learning valuable lessons. She has many questions and I can't provide her an answer to some of her questions like, "Why don't these dogs have a home?" and "Why don't some people take care of their animals?" I tell her that these animals are the lucky ones; these are the animals that have a chance and will eventually have a home. Until the volunteers who dedicate their time and energy can find them a home, we can visit and play and LOVE the animals. There are many things that I want my daughter to learn in life, but one of the things I think is most important is to treat all animals with kindness and love.

“We find a delight in the beauty and happiness of children, that makes the heart too big for the body”
~Ralh Waldo Emerson

Beyond the Sales of the Season

2009-12-04T18:59:00.000-05:00

"He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree."
~Roy L. Smith

I’ve heard it said that the holiday season can be equal to madness. From shopping to spending to eating, this is the “biggest” time of the year. The advertising that surrounds us tells us bigger is more and louder is better for practically everything on the consumer market. Our society emphasizes excess-to the extreme-and it’s easy to get caught up in all of it. Overspending temptations bombard me at every corner. Television, radio, mail advertisements, sale papers, magazines…Each screaming “Sale! 50% Off! Save Today!” As a self-confessed shopaholic, I admit I fight the urge to whip out the plastic to pay for Christmas gifts. I could attempt to justify my weakness by rationalizing how I got a really great deal since the item was, after all, “On Sale”. While sales are great, I have to be realistic and stay within my budget. I would love to shower my family and friends with expensive and unique gifts, but they understand I can’t. After all, that’s not the real meaning of Christmas anyway.

Whatever you do this season, whatever your traditions are, I hope that each and every one will remember what Christmas is truly about. Christmas is more than a sale, a dinner, a party, or a present wrapped in frilly bows. It’s about the birth of Jesus. And while retail and some politicians try to shut Christ out of Christmas, they will only be successful if we allow them to be.

So what can I do to let loved ones know they are loved without expensive gifts and without breaking the bank? Of course I’ll still buy some presents this Christmas, but here are a few ideas I have that we can all do to remember the true meaning of Christmas.

1. Pray. Thank God for sending His Son who died for us. That’s a good starting point. After that, thank Him for our blessings. When we think about it, that’s a really long list.
2. Share the story of Christmas with a friend. Invite them to attend your church for the Christmas play or cantata. You never know when God will use you to plant a seed in someone else’s life. After Christmas, invite that friend to church again.
3. Call a loved one. Do more than send a card this year. Even if you haven’t talked to someone in your family in a while, reach out and tell them how much they are loved. We never know when they’ll be gone for good.
4. Read the Christmas story as a family. Gather the kids, make hot chocolate, sit by the fire, and open the Bible. Enjoy the time together and thank God as a family.
5. Volunteer. Pick a charity and get involved. Ring a bell, cook a meal, or visit a shut-in. Christmas is the perfect time to spread cheer, but we can only do that by being around people. Remember that money wastes away but the time we spend helping someone can have a lasting impact on that life.

As the Christmas season approaches, I hope we can all avoid the “madness” of the season and use every opportunity we can to spread some “gladness.” Merry Christmas everyone!

Meet Zack...

2009-11-28T19:27:00.001-05:00

"The average dog has one request to all humankind. Love me."
~Helen Exley

Rockingham County Humane Society
Featured Pet
Zack

Zack is a full blooded Rat Terrier. He is one year old and has beautiful tri-colored markings. He is neutered and current on his rabies shot. Zack is relatively new to our facility, but he has proven himself to be a good natured and fun loving boy. He doesn’t mind being held and loves to be scratched behind the ears. He enjoys being walked on a leash and is good with children. He is sure to make a great companion and will make an excellent house dog. If you are interested in providing a forever home to Zack, please visit the Rockingham County Humane Society at 205 Boone Road in Eden, NC. Our adoption fee is $100 for puppies and dogs and $60 for kittens and cats. The adoption fee includes spaying and neutering, shots, and de-worming for all animals. The Rockingham County Humane Society is open to the public Wednesday through Saturday from 11 to 4.

"For me a house or an apartment becomes a home when you add one set of four legs, a happy tail, and that indescribable measure of love that we call a dog."
Roger Caras, president emeritus, ASPCA

Grandma's Table

2009-11-21T09:19:00.000-05:00

“Other things may change us, but we start and end with family.”
~Anthony Brandt

In my family, birthdays are as special as holidays. A time to celebrate the individual, the uniqueness found in each person that makes our family special. We often gather at Grandma’s house, where her best dumplings are served and love is spelled with a slice of warm, buttery cornbread. Kids scream for the corner piece of cake loaded with icing and then flash their blue-tooth icing grin from ear to ear. These are happy times that make wonderful memories.

Growing up, I was the oldest grandchild. I used to run and chase my cousins, teasing them the way my youngest uncles teased me. Now, I’m almost 30, and most of those little boys have all grown up, making me the “little” cousin. I now have the joy of watching my daughter burst through the door to Grandma’s house with the same eagerness I had as a child. She explores the many rooms and has her own secret hideout just as I used to.

But there’s nothing like meal time, when we all sit down together. We pass the mashed potatoes and get an extra helping of macaroni and cheese. Everyone is smiling and laughing as we all stuff our bellies. I’ve always known there was something special about Grandma’s table, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Last week while celebrating my younger cousin’s birthday, I realized what it is. It’s Family. It’s those people who love you no matter how near or far you choose to go…and it’s the love of a woman who holds them all together. It’s knowing that no matter how grown up you get (or think you are) there will always be a place for you here. It’s the one constant in an ever-changing world and that place you know you belong.

I’m finally old enough to recognize it, yet still young enough to enjoy it. And thankfully, I’m at just the right age to appreciate its true value.

For me, coming to Grandma’s table - whether it is for a birthday, holiday, or just stopping by for lunch - is sort of like a homecoming for me. It’s a part of my roots—a piece that has made me who I am today. This Thanksgiving I will be thanking God with a new level of gratitude. I’m looking beyond the turkey, the stuffing, and the pumpkin pie to where the heart of my family resides…And that is Grandma’s table.

Danville 8K

2009-11-20T20:23:00.000-05:00

On November 14, I ran in the Danville 8K and Half Marathon. The sun peeked through the clouds and we were able to see blue skies for the first time in a week. It was a promising outlook for a great day of racing, but when I arrived at the start, the only thing I found was a man with directions to the “new” starting line of the race. I learned that part of the course had been flooded from the recent rain and runners were relocated to a new start and finish for the race. When I finally arrived at the right location, slightly frazzled but ready to run, I saw lots of familiar faces. The Osborne Baptist Church group was there, all dressed in matching t-shirts. How awesome it was to see ladies from a local church that train together, laugh together, and worship together.

A change in location of the race also meant a change in the course. It proved to be a challenging one, with the start consisting of an uphill assent for what seemed like at least a half a mile. The course was modified into a strange combination of an out and back loop, which 8K participants ran once and the half-marathoners ran a total of three times. The change in course (although more hilly than the original) actually provided runners and their families with an opportunity often missed at other events. So many times my family has come out to support me only to be able to actually see me at the very beginning-when I am jammed in the middle of a crowd of runners-- and then once more as I cross the finish. But today’s event was different. Not only could onlookers see runners at the beginning and finish, but several other times as well. The unique layout of the course also meant that runners passed each other multiple times on the course. This gave those of us who knew each other a chance to cheer each other on, motivate one another, and flash a big thumbs-up when we were too out of breath to do anything else.

My goal for this race was to take it easy and enjoy the race atmosphere. I’ve been nursing a sore tendon in my foot, took two weeks off, and I didn’t want to aggravate it further. After the time off, I knew I couldn’t just go out there and run full blast. Sometimes reality causes us to change our expectations; I tried to match my expectations for myself with reality. As I said the course was hilly and I was expecting a nice, flat run. Somewhere along mile three there was a BIG hill and a voice in my head that said, “Oh go ahead and walk for a second.” Just as I started to slow down my pace, another runner touched my back and said, “Come on. Don’t stop here. You can do it.” I picked up my pace again and I climbed the hill side by side with a total stranger. Yet for a moment, I felt as if I knew her.
You must understand that runners are strange and fragile creatures when it comes to rules of race etiquette. Some think it’s ok to cheer one another on while others think it’s rude to risk breaking a runner’s concentration. As for me, I’m all for cheering-- when I have the breath-- and I know without a doubt that I owe my award from this race to her. She reminded me that I was there to run, even if the running was slow and the hills were a struggle. I won third place in my age group. Thank you “lady-in-the-pink-shirt”.

Meet Duncan...

2009-11-01T14:05:00.000-05:00

Rockingham County Humane Society
Featured Pet
Duncan

I miss the summer days when I have more time to visit and volunteer with the animals of the Rockingham County Humane Society. Once school starts, my time is limited because of other obligations, but I still enjoy doing more behind the scenes work like our "Featured Pet" articles. This week I stopped by to drop off the newspapers I gather from friends and family (these are used to line the cages for the animals)and to take a few pictures for Eden's Own Journal. My daughter accompanied me on the trip and we took some time to visit the kittens--her favorite--and see the new faces that are there. In doing so, we see some familiar faces as well...we pet their heads, scratch their ears, and reassure them that they will soon find a home.

Today, our focus was on Duncan, who was found abandoned as a puppy in a local park. I remember when he came to us--he was very timid and shy. Although he is still somewhat shy until you get to know him, I can see that he will be very good in a family with children. He needs love and a child he can run and play with.

Duncan is a 10 month old terrier mix. He is neutered and current on his rabies shot. Duncan needs lots of love and attention. He has a shy nature and needs a family who will spend lots of time with him. His small build and short hair are just two of the features that make him a great house dog. Duncan loves to have his ears scratched and he is sure to put a smile on your face. He was found as an abandoned puppy and has been with us ever since. If you are interested in adopting Duncan or seeing any other animals available for adoption, please visit the Rockingham County Humane Society at 205 Boone Road in Eden, NC. Our adoption fee is $100 for puppies and dogs and $60 for kittens and cats. The adoption fee includes spaying and neutering, shots, and de-worming for all animals. The Rockingham County Humane Society is open to the public Wednesday through Saturday from 11-4.

Halloween Fun in Eden

2009-10-27T17:18:00.000-04:00

Looking for something fun and exciting to do this weekend? Can't wait till dark to show off your costume? Come on out to Freedom Park this Saturday, October 31, and enjoy the festivities of the 5th Annual Fall Festival. The event is sponsored by the City of Eden and Pine State Group, Inc. The event is open to all ages and there is sure to be something for everyone!

The fun begins at 10:00 am with Eden Parks and Recreation's Annual Pet Show. Dress your dog or cat up in the cutest (or scariest) costume you can find! Prizes will be awarded for several categories including "Best in Show". I'll be there as a judge for this event, so I hope to see you there! After the pet show, enjoy browsing the arts and crafts or let the kids have fun on the free rides that will be available. Be sure to enter the Costume Contest, which begins at 6:00 pm and start Halloween night out right with the Haunted Trail.

For a list of more events in our area, visit www.exploreedennc.com

Hope to see you there for a frightening good time!

These were this year's winners of the Pet Costume Contest! Congratulations to everyone and their furry friends!

Meet Jack...

2009-10-23T10:08:00.001-04:00

"With the qualities of cleanliness, affection, patience, dignity, and courage that cats have, how many of us, I ask you, would be capable of becoming cats?" - Fernand Mery

It’s time to introduce you to a new adoptable pet from Rockingham County Humane Society. Jack is a beautiful cat that has been with us for a little over one year and he’s waiting on his furrrrrr-ever home! When I went to visit Jack, I was quickly reminded that cats are a little harder to photograph than other subjects I’ve had in the past. He was a little scared of the flash, but I told him I was going to “make him famous” if he would let me get a great picture of him. I rubbed his head, scratched his ears, and talked to him…He seemed to understand that I was trying to find him a great home. I played with Jack for awhile and he just purred and purred. He really is a sweet boy who will make a wonderful pet. Of course, a picture can’t do him justice-- you have to look into those bright orange eyes for yourself to see what I mean.

JACK
Rockingham County Humane Society’s
Featured Pet

Jack is a one-year-old orange and white short-haired cat. He is neutered and current on his rabies shot. Jack is a good boy and loves to purr. Jack has beautiful, bright orange eyes that are filled with love. He enjoys playing with string and chasing balls. He never meets a stranger and would be a great addition for a family with children. Jack is waiting for that special family or individual to adopt him. He would love to crawl in your lap and keep you company. If you are interested in adopting Jack or seeing any other animals available for adoption, please visit the Rockingham County Humane Society at 205 Boone Road in Eden, NC. Our adoption fee is $100 for puppies and dogs and $60 for kittens and cats. The adoption fee includes spaying and neutering, shots, and de-worming for all animals. The Rockingham County Humane Society is open to the public Wednesday through Saturday from 11-4.

Strength for Running & Life

2009-10-18T21:23:00.000-04:00

“If you can’t fly then run. If you can’t run then walk. If you can’t walk then crawl. But whatever you do keep moving.” ~Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

While running today, I began to reflect on Friday’s lesson with my students at Dudley High School. My students and I wrote our thoughts about the old saying “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” Students were encouraged to share their thoughts about what makes a person strong, what pushes a person to do good, or often times, heroic deeds. And on the other hand, what makes others go so wrong? (All of this will soon tie in with a unit I am planning on Homer’s The Odyssey where we will study strength and personal journeys. We’ll use our experiences in connection with the text to think about where we’ve been, where we are, where we want to be, and how to get there.)

As I rounded the corner at the 1.5 mile mark in my run, I glanced at my watch. 15:07. Not an Olympic qualifying time, but understand that two years ago, running this same stretch of road often took me 20 to 25 minutes. I can see that I’ve gained strength. My form has improved and I no longer need to puff my inhaler before I reach the top of that hill I just climbed.

God has granted me the ability to run and running has helped me to find strength in everyday situations. Running has helped me push myself to succeed, and that push for success has spilled over into other areas of my life. I use that time to reflect, ask questions, make plans… and then pray about those same questions and plans. Without a doubt, my faith makes me strong and it is an important part of my personal journey.

Along the next stretch of road I began thinking about the words my students shared with me in their writing on Friday. One student pointed out that the tough times in our lives are often what make us stronger. I couldn’t agree more as I remembered the time I was in a wheelchair for four months following a car accident in 2001. If someone had told me then that I would be where I am today, doing the things I do, I would have assured them they had my future confused with someone else’s.

My mind drifted further as I thought about the ½ marathon I ran in a few weeks ago. I spent the summer training for it and I finished the race; but, not without mistakes and upsets which included a fall that messed up my shoulder and ankle. Finishing that race was tough, especially after my fall. I was mad, aggravated, and I wanted to cry. In fact, I did cry for a moment. And then I remembered why I was there. I was there to RUN, not walk, not cry, and certainly not to pout. I remember touching my necklace and reciting the verse inscribed on the back: Philippians 4:13. “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” And so, with God’s grace, I continued running and finished the race strong.

I was reminded of some things during that race that will help me be stronger in life. I am reminded that no matter how hard we train or prepare for life, there is no teacher as great as the real thing we call experience. Nothing could have prepared me for the hills of Antietam Battlefield that I encountered in that course other than the real thing. Along the way of life, there will be bumps and bruises… or twisted ankles and sore shoulders. The trick is not simply getting up after the fall, it’s the attitude we have once we are back on our feet. We have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and eventually we cross the finish line. We should never plow over someone else in an effort to get there, yet I have found that finish line to be much sweeter when I smile along the way. The lessons learned during the tough times in life do make us stronger. Personally, I find great comfort in knowing that even in the tough times, I am not alone. I have a God who has blessed me with His comfort and surrounded me with a wonderful family and support system of friends.

And now, as I finish my run and my meandering contemplations about the struggles of life and what makes us strong, I know that I am not here to walk, nor pout, nor cry. I am here to RUN. I am here to do all I can in the time I have, however long (or short) it may be. In today’s fast-paced world, we’re all running the race of life. So, double-knot your sneakers and enjoy the run.

"I picked this to tell you I love you..."

2009-10-13T17:11:00.000-04:00

My daughter and I were working in the yard today when she came running up to me with a dandelion in her hand. “Here Mama,” she said. “I picked this to tell you I love you.” My heart melted as I gave her a hug and a kiss. We went inside to find a vase for the little dandelion and I decided to take a few pictures of her with the special flower.

This little act of love shown by my daughter got me to thinking about a poem that my daddy shared with me years ago. When I was 17 or 18 years old, my daddy gave me a book of poems called “For You, My Daughter.” The book is a collection of poems edited by Susan Polis Schultz. I keep the book in the top drawer of my dresser, and now that I am a mother, I often pull it out and read a few lines. I am coming to the stage in my life where I can appreciate and understand the things he was telling me years ago.

Here’s one poem from the book that I will pass on to my daughter. This poem was written by Jan Michelsen.

Think freely. Practice patience.
Smile often. Savor special moments.
Live God’s message. Make new
friends. Rediscover old ones. Tell
those you love that you do. Feel
deeply. Forget trouble. Forgive an
enemy. Hope. Grow. Be crazy. Count
your blessings. Observe miracles.
Make them happen. Discard worry.
Give. Give in. Trust enough to take.
Pick some flowers. Share them. Keep
a promise. Look for rainbows. Gaze
at stars. See beauty everywhere.
Work hard. Be wise. Try to
understand. Take time for people.
Make time for yourself. Laugh
heartily. Spread joy. Take a chance.
Reach out. Let someone in. Try
something new. Slow down. Be soft
sometimes. Believe in yourself. Trust
others. See a sunrise. Listen to rain.
Reminisce. Cry when you need to.
Trust life. Have faith. Enjoy wonder.
Comfort a friend. Have good ideas.
Make some mistakes. Learn from
them. Celebrate life.
~Jan Michelsen, 1979

Thanks for sharing, Daddy. Before you know it, the day will be here when I will share this with Lydia. Thanks for teaching me to appreciate the delicate balance that life is.

A nice little poem...

2009-10-13T11:01:00.000-04:00

"Autumn...A second Spring, when every leaf is a flower." ~Albert Camus, French author and philospher (1913-1960)

I found this poem yesterday, but I have been unable to identify an author. I think it goes nicely with the theme of my blog and the season. It makes me want to go outside and breath the fall air on this chilly morning; or maybe go for a run and then enjoy a nice cup of coffe on the front porch! Hope you enjoy!

When autumn wind goes running
It does some magic things
It gives the shadows dancing shoes
It gives the bright leaves wings
When autumn wind goes running

It curls the bonfire's tail of smoke
And shares a little whispered joke
With cornstalks who delight to prattle
It turns a seed pod into a rattle
When autumn wind goes running

Visit to the Pumpkin Patch

2009-10-12T14:25:00.000-04:00

"A fallen leaf is nothing more than a summer’s wave good bye." ~Unknown

Every year, my husband and I take Lydia to the pumpkin patch to pick out our pumpkin to carve for Halloween. Each year the trip is more fun because Lydia looks forward to picking out her very own pumpkin. This morning, when we set out to select our pumpkin, there was a chill in the air and I was reminded that Fall is really here. So, I’ve selected some poems to get everyone in the mood for Fall. I hope you enjoy the pictures we took today as well.

Lydia always likes to pose and have her picture taken among the colorful mums. As I took this picture, I was reminded of the following poem by Robert Frost. Until today, I had always thought of this poem as a Spring poem, but I now realize it applies to the gold colors found in nature during any season.

Nothing Gold Can Stay
by Robert Frost
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold,
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Here's another fall poem by Emily Dickinson. Emily has been my favorite poet since I was a teenager. I love the way she uses personification in her poem to describe the changes in nature taking place as Autumn approaches. Her poem reminds me that I am not the only one who feels the need to grab a jacket sometimes...

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.
~Emily Dickinson

Theatre Guild of Rockingham County...Showcasing Local Talent

2009-10-11T19:36:00.000-04:00

My daughter and I spent this afternoon enjoying the final show of Disney’s Mulan, Jr. The production was performed by talented young people in our area who volunteer their time to the Theatre Guild of Rockingham County. As an old Theatre Guild gal myself, I can appreciate the work that goes into a show like this. It takes time and dedication from many talented people, including those who are behind the scenes.

Lydia and I loved the set, which was wonderfully painted and made us feel like we had taken a step back in time to ancient China. There were great costumes and visuals throughout the show and the singing was phenomenal! It was wonderful to see the budding talent we have right here in Rockingham County.

Pictured above is Jessica Wray (L) who played Mulan, and Peggy Wasmund (R) was Mushu. The photo is from www.tgrc-nc.com.

While this was the last performance of Mulan ,Jr., you can still see other great shows in the 2009-2010 season. Visit the Theatre Guild's website at www.tgrc-nc.com to see the dates for exciting upcoming productions including The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, Robin Hood, and The King and I. Try your hand at auditioning and you could be the next person under the bright lights! If acting is not for you, there are still plenty of other ways to participate in productions. The Tech Crew of the Theatre Guild builds the sets, hangs the lights, plays the music and sound effects, provides the costumes and props, and sets the stage. They are the people behind the curtain, and the show cannot go on without them!

The Lesson in Irony...

2009-10-08T21:09:00.000-04:00

“You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn
You bleed you learn
You scream you learn.”
~Alanis Morrissette
You Learn
jagged little pill

How many of you remember Alanis Morissette and her CD Jagged Little Pill? Think back to 1995 when the CD was released…for me (and many of you dedicated followers of my blog) it was our freshman year of high school. I remember all too well how I played the CD over and over; Alanis and her harmonica were definitely one of my favorites. Well, I never would have thought that the lyrics to one of her songs could be used to teach students about irony. But today, I saw it in action, and it worked!

To understand how the lesson worked in a ninth grade English classroom, you need to know exactly what irony is. The following is exactly what students learned today:

Irony is an implied discrepancy between what is said and what is meant.

Irony is the use of words to convey the opposite of their literal meaning; a statement or situation where the meaning is contradicted by the appearance or presentation of the idea. Three kinds of irony are commonly recognized:

1. Verbal irony is a figure of speech in which the intended meaning of a statement differs from the meaning that the words appear to express. (When the author says one thing and means something else.)
2. Situational irony involves an incongruity between what is expected or intended and what actually occurs. (A discrepancy between the expected result and actual results.)
3. Dramatic irony is an effect produced by a narrative in which the audience knows more about present or future circumstances than a character in the story. (When an audience perceives something that a character in the literature does not know.)

Now, how boring is that? To a group of sleepy eyed freshmen in first block, the answer is VERY BORING!!! But then, we passed out the lyrics to Alanis Morissette’s “Ironic” and you could hear the buzz begin in the classroom as they read over the words. “Who is Alanis Morissette?” one student asked. At that moment, I felt my age creeping up on me, but I couldn’t help but smile as I walked around the room overhearing conversations that were taking place. Students were given highlighters and asked to mark the different examples of irony found in the lyrics. Taking the task one step further, they were asked to converse with each other and identify the type of ironies they found. They were extremely receptive to this, and I watched as the student’s papers became a colorful collage of IRONY! They were laughing as they read the lyrics and discussed the assignment. And then the real kicker…the students watched the music video. I couldn’t help but laugh with them as we watched Alanis throw herself around in the car and talk to, well, multiple versions of herself. I thought back to when I was in the ninth grade, how awkward of a time that was, with my baggy pants and my Woodstock shirt that I am sure is now somewhere tucked away in the attic.

So, check out the lyrics and see if you can see the irony here...

Ironic By Alanis Morissette
An old man, turned 98
He won the lottery, and died the next day
It's a black fly in your chardonnay
It's a death row pardon, two minutes too late
And isn't it ironic?
Don't you think?

It's like rain, on your wedding day
It's a free ride, when you've already paid
It's the good advice, that you just didn't take
And who would've thought? It figures

Mr. Play-It-Safe, was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase, and kissed his kids goodbye
He waited his whole damn life, to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought, "Well isn't this nice?"
And isn't it ironic?
Don't you think?

It's like rain, on your wedding day
It's a free ride, when you've already paid
It's the good advice, that you just didn't take
And who would've thought? It figures

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out
When you think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up in your face

A traffic jam, when you're already late
A "No smoking" sign, on your cigarette break
It's like ten thousand spoons, when all you need is a knife
It's meeting the man of my dreams, and then meeting his beautiful wife
And isn't it ironic?
Don't you think?
A little too ironic?
Yeah I really do think

It's like rain, on your wedding day
It's a free ride, when you've already paid
It's the good advice, that you just didn't take
And who would've thought?
It figures

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
And life has a funny, funny way, of helping you out
Helping you out

So, do I think students now understand the three types of irony? You bet they do!!! And later today, I even heard one student still singing the song in the hall. Maybe I thought this was a cool assignment because we used some old lyrics to a song I’ve heard a thousand times. Maybe the students thought it was cool because they got to use highlighters. But the fact is, the lesson was cool because it worked. They were given words from a “text” that they could relate to and make “real-world sense” out of…the video and highlighters were just a plus.
And today, on my commute home, I couldn’t help but dig out my Alanis Morissette CD and throw it into my CD player. I turned it up and jammed to the lyrics. It’s amazing that it has lasted this long without a scratch. What was even more amazing is that I still remember the words to the songs. I guess I really am a product of the nineties, because I still love that whining harmonica and the grunge-pop sound of the guitar. Who knew that I was studying irony all those years ago without even being aware of it? I can’t wait to use this with my students in the classroom!

Biscuit

2009-10-07T19:19:00.000-04:00

"The difference between friends and pets is that friends we allow into our company, pets we allow into our solitude." ~Robert Brault

Meet Biscuit....

I stopped by the Rockingham County Humane Society today to take a picture for this week's "Featured Pet", a short article and photo of a pet in need of a home that appears in the biweekly issues of Eden's Own Journal. Today I was greeted by Biscuit with a lick and what I could have sworn was an actual smile on that dog's face! It had been a while since I last saw Biscuit, but a friendly wag of the tail reassured me he had not forgotten me.

Rockingham County Humane Society
Featured Pet
Biscuit

Biscuit is an 11 month old Border Collie mix. He is neutered and current on his rabies shot. Biscuit is a good boy and loves attention. He loves to be walked on a leash and gets along with other dogs. He is very playful and would be a great addition to a family with children. Biscuit loves to have his ears scratched and he is sure to put a smile on your face. If you are interested in adopting Biscuit or seeing any other animals available for adoption, please visit the Rockingham County Humane Society at 205 Boone Road in Eden, NC. Our adoption fee is $100 for puppies and dogs and $60 for kittens and cats. The adoption fee includes spaying and neutering, shots, and de-worming for all animals. The Rockingham County Humane Society is open to the public Wednesday through Saturday from 11-4.

Freedom's Run

2009-10-06T21:38:00.000-04:00

"Running isn't about winning or losing, but the experience of it. That's one reason I like it." --Anthony Edwards

There I stood with my hair disheveled, wrapped in my house coat and sporting my big fuzzy slippers as I stared at my calendar that hung on my kitchen wall. The big red circle and smiley face drawn around the date for my half marathon glared at me in a mocking sort of way. It was only 6 days away, and there I was with a box of Kleenex in one hand and emergency room discharge papers in the other; papers that plainly stated in all capital letters: NO SCHOOL OR MARATHONS FOR 5 DAYS. I was bummed…totally disappointed that I had come down with the flu. What was I going to do? Would the grueling months I had spent training in the summer heat be wasted? Or could I possibly bounce back, ignore the doctor’s advice and run the half anyway? Well, three days and several cans of chicken soup later, I felt much better. I started to get the idea in the back of my mind that maybe, just maybe, I could still run after all.

The plans for the first weekend in October had been in the making since July, when my aunt called and asked me to join her in this undertaking of completing a half marathon. She wanted to walk a half marathon and had found the perfect race in her home state of West Virginia. I would run, she would walk, and her sister would drive down from New Jersey to walk as well. Three different women with three different goals…each woman and goal unique in its own way. I was sold from the get-go. I love a good challenge and wanted a chance to beat my 1st half-marathon time of 2:27. The rest is "history" so to speak. We talked our husbands into the trip and began training.

On the morning of the race, we caught the shuttle from our hotel to the starting line. I had never participated in a race of this magnitude and I was amazed at the number of people present. Runners and walkers were everywhere. Some were stretching, pinning their race numbers on their shirts, laughing, and talking as excitement filled the air. Almost 600 people took their places at the starting line to run the half marathon, and when the gun went off, the mass of people jolted into motion. I have never seen anything like it; everything around me seemed to bounce as the dense crowd filed into the street and took off over the scenic Rumsey Bridge, crossing the Potomac River. The sight was beautiful, and although I was just one in the crowd, I couldn’t help but notice the sun glistening over the water. It was a beautiful day for a run with perfect weather and hardly a cloud in the West Virginia sky.

I knew this race was going to be hilly, and I had tried to seek out hills while training for this race, but nothing could have prepared me for the first hill we came upon. I climbed it slowly and steadily, all the while reminding myself that there would be no shame in having to walk a little. (After all, I had just had the flu…) When I reached the top, I did stop, and I turned around and looked back at the monster of a hill I had just climbed. I stood there as people passed, trying to get a glimpse of my aunt and her sister, who I knew were somewhere behind me. Finally, I turned back around and started to run again. Turns out, that first hill was just one of many that I would climb that day.

I tried to take in as much of the scenery as possible. There were beautiful historic houses and the people were sitting on their porches to cheer for the runners as we came through the Civil War town of Sharpsburg, Maryland. My favorite part of the run was Antietam Battlefield. It was here 23,000 Americans either lost their lives or were wounded in the bloodiest day of our history. As I looked out at the rolling fields and I felt the warm sun and gentle breeze on my face, I took several moments to remember the men who fought for our county then and those who continue to do so today.

After running through Antietam Battlefield, I focused less on the scenery and more on my running. I found a good pace and stuck with it for the next few miles. The route along the C&O canal was in the woods, but it was flat. Leaves covered the dirt trail and I could see the beautiful Potomac River right beside of me. I cranked up the music on my iPod, thought about my husband and daughter who were waiting at the finish, smiled, and kept on running. I have to say, the hills of Antietam were difficult, but the run along the C&O canal was refreshing and invigorating. Finally, I saw the 11 mile marker and I picked the pace up even more. I was excited at this point, especially when I looked at my watch and saw that, despite the hills, I might actually make the 2 and a half hour mark. I crossed back over the Rumsey Bridge into Shepardstown and kept going to the finish line. And of course, my family was waiting for me there. 2:32 was my official time. Not the time I had hoped for, but I finished strong nonetheless.

We waited for my aunt and her sister. Both ladies finished strong and we all accomplished something that day. The theme of Freedom’s Run was “Health and Heritage”…something I think we all connected with in our own unique way. This course was challenging and I even stumbled and fell between miles four and five. I scraped my knee, my shoulder, and tore my favorite running pants. But I got back up and I kept running; after all, that's what I was there to do. I learned alot from the experience of this race. Everytime I run a race I learn more and more about the physical limits of my body and how far to safely push those limits.

I’ll post some pictures of the run at a later date. I used a disposable camera and have not had the pictures developed yet. In the meantime, if you want to learn more about the rich history of our nation and the inspiration behind the historic places on the route, visit the website for Freedom’s Run. www.freedomsrun.org

And to my husband Robert, thank you for understanding my need to run. Thank you for driving me to West Virginia and for keeping our daughter occupied for hours while you waited for me at the finish line. Thanks for the celebratory dinner and cheesecake at Ruby Tuesday. Thank you for spending our fifth wedding anniversary as a “weekend centered around me”. Thank you for your support in every way. I love you and I couldn’t do it without you.

Teaching Philosophy

2009-09-25T21:50:00.000-04:00

On the days which seem too tough to make it through, I will remember that God never gives us a problem we can’t overcome, and I will read this to remind me why I am a teacher in the first place…

Before you read another word, I think it is necessary to preface this post by saying it is a rough draft, so to speak, about what type of teacher I want to be. I’ve been asked to put it into writing… my teaching philosophy… an examination of my strategies and beliefs as an educator. It would be a lie for me to say that everything written here is the final product, the revised and edited version, the end of my thinking about the type of teacher I want to be. In fact, I think of my teaching philosophy as a bucket that never fills; a bank to which I can constantly add information, and use for reflection. I have learned from experiences in classrooms, both good and bad, and feel there is much more to learn. I believe that teaching will take great courage, that teaching will be a learning process for me and my students, and that I am about to encounter some of the biggest challenges I have ever faced in my lifetime.

My beliefs as an educator have been forming and developing over the last two years. I once had a professor tell me, “Be the student you want to teach.” I took it to heart and have tried to be the best student I could be, all the time realizing that my own success behind the desk will not be the only thing that is important when I step in front of the rows of desks to teach. Yet, the past two years as a student have been the time for me to grow, and push myself to the limits in an atmosphere that fostered critical thinking and engagement with the world around me. During this time, I have reexamined old beliefs with a new set of eyes, made adjustments in my thinking when necessary, and come through with a firmer set of beliefs and standards not just for the classroom, but for everyday living. As I have recently entered the high school English classroom, I have been asked to apply theory to practice, develop strategies for student success, and tackle the difficulties of classroom management.

I hope to empower my students to make real-life connections to the curriculum. I want them to see that writing is a way to develop a powerful voice that is often heard for generations to come. Literature is the eye for studying the human spirit and examining people from far off places. But sometimes, literature is the most effective when it becomes the eye which helps us see the person who is right next door. I believe that only through such connections will the content of the English classroom become applicable to the lives of students and form its own meaning within the individual.

So how do I help students make these connections? I believe the meaning to be gained from the content is unique for each student, but I can model my own reading, writing, and thinking strategies for students. I do not believe it is my job to tell students what to think, but I can model for them how to think. What I mean by this is that I can model problem-solving skills, present collaborative projects, and mediate peer-to-peer debate and discussions in the classroom. I can help them make these connections by constantly asking myself: What is it that my students need the most? How can I make the content interesting to them? What is it I want my students to learn? How will I assess their knowledge? Do my students really understand what is being asked of them? I believe that constant reflection of my own teaching strategies is necessary to ensure that I am meeting the needs of my diverse students. Reflection is essential for me to be able to figure out what works and what doesn’t, and how I can change to make it work.

I want my students to understand that the skills being taught in my classroom are beyond the word “English”. It is my job to teach students the four Language Arts: Reading, Writing, Thinking, and Speaking. I believe that these four skills are powerful tools that aid the individual in a lifelong process of learning and self discovery. No matter what path a person chooses for his life, these skills are necessary to navigate in the world, build relationships with others, and succeed on any scale or area in life.

I want to be a teacher because it is the greatest opportunity to impact the lives of many people in a positive way. This impact will not be by force or conformity, not by pushing my values and beliefs on others, but by using literature, language, and the written word as tools to empower students to become all they dream they can be. On the days which seem too tough to make it through, I will remember that God never gives us a problem we can’t overcome, and I will read this to remind me why I am a teacher in the first place…

Riverfest Reflections

2009-09-21T21:47:00.000-04:00

Matthew 5:16 “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”

Riverfest is over, and as I reflect on the hustle and bustle of the weekend, I am reminded of how much I am truly blessed. From start to finish, my experience at the festival was a positive one, filled with community spirit, friendly faces, and a sense of goodwill from everyone I met. Here’s a run-through of this weekend’s events…

Despite the rainclouds and frequent showers that loomed overhead, I set the booth up for the Humane Society on Friday night. When I arrived at my space, I was greeted by shop owners and other vendors in the area who were eager to see if I needed a hand unloading the truck. A special thank-you goes out to Jessi and Janice Hagood for helping me get our t-shirts and other items out of the boxes and ready for display. Thank goodness Eddie Price had a roll of tape I could use, because of all things I could have forgotten, tape was what I was missing! T-shirts were selling like hotcakes before I could get them out of the box, and once the street filled with people, raffle tickets were selling too! Much to my surprise, my husband and my daughter dropped by the tent to see me and all the activity taking place. (I didn’t expect them to come out until Saturday.) I was also glad to see my friend Jean Ann who came to help work the booth and keep me company for several hours. We raised just under $200 dollars Friday night for the animals, and although I was tired and hungry, I went home counting Friday night a success.

Saturday morning began early. I arrived at 7:30, quickly set up the booth, and left it in the hands of another faithful volunteer from the Humane Society. Then, my mom and I headed a few blocks down the road so I could pick up my race packet. I was surprised when I got there to see my dad with a race bib already pinned to the front of his shirt! Also there was my husband and daughter, ready to cheer me on. Volunteers for the Literacy Project were busy taking entry forms and runners were stretching and getting ready for the race. This was an awesome race for me for several reasons. Yes, we were racing for the Literacy Project, a great non-profit that has a huge impact on our community, but I was also running with my dad, and my mom was there to see me run for the first time as well.

I took off from the start line faster than I had planned, I guess because of nerves and excitement. My breathing was heavy and my legs were tight as I hit the first hill. But in my mind, I was prepared for this. At the beginning of a race, adrenaline is always pumping, and I knew there would be some tough hills in this race. So, in preparation for this race and the ½ marathon in West Virginia that I will be running in two weeks, I have incorporated more hills into my training over the summer. All those hill repeats and extra strength training paid off as I topped the first hill, caught my breath, and rounded the corner to the only flat stretch in the route. From there I continued at what I thought was a pretty good pace for the rest of the race. I pushed myself hard, but my breathing was good and my legs felt strong. My goal was to finish the race in 27 minutes, so I was surprised when I rounded the last corner and glanced at my watch to find it said 23 minutes! The last ½ mile was a slow incline and I used every bit of energy I had left to climb it as fast as I could. I finished the race in 25:05, making it my fastest 5K ever! Since this was such a hilly course, I truly shocked myself. I was the 5th woman and 16th person overall out of 48 to finish. Almost $1,000 was raised for the Literacy Project and I beat my own PR! In my mind, this race was a success and I walked away feeling like a winner!

After the race, I resumed my duties at the Humane Society’s booth. The streets quickly filled with people and smiling faces as the place came alive with activity. My mom was there to help me and I was proud of the way she enthusiastically took part in selling raffle tickets and helping educate the public about our organization and our mission. Soon my dad and step-mom arrived too, and I put them to work as well. Before the day was over, even my grandmother had sold some raffle tickets and t-shirts! My dad dressed up in a dog suit and danced in the streets, attracting quite a crowd of both kids and adults. My friend Jean Ann returned too because she loves animals as much as I do and knows the importance of what the Humane Society does in our community. Star News even stopped by the tent and interviewed us for a bit! I’ve never been camera shy, so I had no problem talking a minute when the reporter asked me to tell him about the Humane Society!

My husband and my daughter came out to see me and brought Sophie, our German Shepherd that we adopted. Sophie is just one of the 387 animals that found a loving home in 2007 because the volunteers at the Humane Society were able to help her. And, I have to say that I would not be able to be one of those volunteers if it were not for the love and support of my husband, who unselfishly sacrifices his own time, puts up with the phone ringing non-stop for me on some days, and watches our daughter so that I am able to work with the animals and appear at events like Riverfest. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you Robert!

At 7:30, me, my mom, my step-mom, and my dad, who was still dressed in the dog suit, went onstage with Mike Moore from WLOE radio to draw the tickets from the raffle. Thank you Mike, for giving us the opportunity to have a moment in the spotlight and let people know about the Humane Society. Congratualtions to all of our winners and thank you for your support. You DO make a difference!

After a long weekend, I retreated to the comfort and quiet of my living room, with my husband by my side, and my dogs curled up at my feet, rejoicing over our success. $1,518 was raised for the Rockingham County Humane Society which will be used for the care of neglected and homeless animals in our community. Thanks to the ladies of Two-Rivers Quilt Guild, Arthur’s Jewelry in Reidsville, Sears of Reidsville, Angie Jones (for the t-shirts), and all of our volunteers who made the raffle and Riverfest a success. Most of all, thanks to my parents and my family who support me in everything I do. I praise God for placing each of you in my life!

Inspiring Teachers

2009-09-15T21:30:00.000-04:00

“The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires.”
~William Arthur Ward

We all have people in our lives that have inspired us to become who we are today. I believe that true inspiration continues throughout our lives, giving us something to reflect on; keeping us in check to make sure we continue on the path for where we want to be tomorrow.

Lately I’ve been thinking of those teachers who have inspired me, what was different about them, and what type of teacher I want to be. Here is a list of teachers whose words and actions have traveled with me beyond the beyond the classroom.

• Mrs. Pamela Drews
Kindergarten teacher
Lakeside Elementary
She created an atmosphere of learning and creativity in her classroom that was fun and memorable.

• Mrs. Candy Smith
6th grade Language Arts
Holmes Middle School
We created a time capsule which consisted of anything we could stuff in a manila envelope. From 6th grade until graduation, Mrs. Smith kept the time capsules in her attic. When we graduated we opened them to find all of our “treasures” and a letter from our teacher. Her letter was filled with words of wisdom that I still have and still pull out and read to this day. That letter has helped me find my direction when my way was lost more than once.

• Mrs. Angie Smart
Morehead High School
I wasn’t actually in a “class” with Mrs. Smart, but this lady took the time to notice a scared and confused teenager who roamed the halls. She took the time to sit and listen to the things I had to say without ridicule or criticism. When I was about to give up and drop out of high school, she stepped in and gave me encouragement. I am convinced that her reassuring words and confidence in me are one of the reasons I did walk across the stage and receive my diploma.

• Mr. Phil Conte
English I and American Literature
Rockingham Community College
Mr. Conte gave me my first and only “C” on a paper my freshman year of college. I learned a lot from that paper. I thought I could write before, because I always did well in writing. But, Mr. Conte showed me that writing is not easy or trivial. One must work hard at writing and he made me realize the hard work was worth the end result.

• Mrs. Donna Shumate
American Literature
Rockingham Community College
It was in her class, while giving a presentation on Huckleberry Finn, that I realized I wanted to teach literature! She inspired me to think of literature as “the study of the human condition” and I finally began to make real-life connections to the material I was reading.

• Dr. Jeanie Reynolds
The Teaching of Writing
UNCG
Dr. Reynolds pushed me to think of myself as a writer. She also inspired me to do something about it. She redefined the journal for me and introduced me to what is my greatest tool as a writer: the Daybook. I now realize that in order to teach writing effectively, I must constantly reflect on my own writing process.

• Dr. Jewel Cooper
Diverse Learners
UNCG
Dr. Cooper challenged me to examine my views on difficult and often uncomfortable subjects, all so that I could grow as a person and a future educator. She also told me, “No more tears until graduation day.” I admire her grace, her poise, and the attention her presence commands in the classroom.

• Dr. Amy Vetter
Methods and Instruction
UNCG
Dr. Vetter’s love for teaching is apparent in each lesson. The activities and methods of instruction she models always leave me with a sense that “I can do this too.”

I hope I can one day influence the lives of my students as these teachers have influenced me. I know that because I sat behind the desk in their classroom, or in some cases, their office where I cried, I am a better person, student, and teacher. So, who has inspired you? Tell me about it…

Riverfest Opportunities

2009-09-14T20:53:00.000-04:00

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has."
~Margaret Mead

"Everyone can be great because anyone can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't even have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve... You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love..."
~Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

This is going to be a busy week! I will be busy making last minute preparations for Riverfest, which will be September 18th and 19th on Washington Street in Eden, NC. There will be something for everyone: artisans, crafts, vendors, non-profits, a kid-zone, and much, much more! It’s going to be a weekend of fun for the entire family.
Come out and see me Friday evening from 5:00 to 10:00 p.m. or anytime on Saturday. I’ll be under the tent for the Rockingham County Humane Society. We will be raising awareness about RCHS, which is the only no-kill animal shelter in Rockingham County. Established in 1975, we are a 501c (3) organization which means we are non-profit and non-government funded. All support comes from the volunteers and members of the community who generously contribute their time, money, and talents to help us save animals. Our mission is to help as many animals as possible find safe, nurturing, and loving homes. We also encourage people to spay and neuter their pets and offer low-cost monthly clinics. Find us on Petfinder at www.petfinder.com/shelters/NC524.html

We are excited about the upcoming festivities at Riverfest! We will be selling raffle tickets for our annual raffle, t-shirts, doggie bandanas, hand-painted magnets, and guardian angel pins. One of our volunteers will be dressed in a huge dog costume to greet the kids and give away coloring books and pencils. Many people bring their dogs to Riverfest, so make sure Fido is on a leash and bring him by our tent for some cool refreshment at our “Pet Water Station.” All proceeds from Riverfest will go directly towards the care of abandoned and neglected animals in our community and the operation of the RCHS.

At 8:30 on Saturday morning, Riverfest will kick off the day with a 5K to benefit the Rockingham County Literacy Project. The RCLP is dedicated to teaching adults how to read, improve their reading skills, and help people learn to speak English. Elizabeth Neterer described the importance of these skills when she said, "Reading is a means whereby we may learn not only to understand ourselves and the world around us but whereby we may find our place in the world." We live in an area where many people had to drop out of school at an early age in order to work in a nearby mill and support their families, so there are a surprising number of adults in our area who are illiterate. Many others are only functionally literate, meaning they can read just enough to get by in the world, but are unable to enjoy reading the way it should be enjoyed. We also live in an area where the Hispanic and immigrant population is increasing at a fast rate, and people need to be able to speak and read English in order to find jobs and improve their quality of life. The RCLP offers one-on-one training in basic skills for reading, writing, speaking English, and math. Students of all ages are matched with a tutor who will help the student reach his or her needs and literacy goals. If you are interested in running in the 5K or becoming a tutor for RCLP, check out their website at www.rcliteracyproject.org

I am so excited to be a part of this year’s Riverfest. I look forward to seeing many faces at the tent for the Humane Society. If you are interested in ways you can help or volunteer, come by and check us out. By participating in the 5K race I will be able to use running to impact the lives of people right here in my hometown! The Rockingham County Humane Society and the Rockingham County Literacy Project are just two of the non-profit organizations that will be present this weekend. As I said, there will be something for everyone, so come out and get some cotton candy, get involved, and most importantly…make a difference!

Teaching of Writing Philosophy

2009-09-13T22:36:00.000-04:00

"It has occurred to me lately that writing and running have quite a bit in common. Both take dedication and practice, and both abilities disappear if they are not used."
~Cynthia D. Urbanski
Using the Workshop Approach in the High School English Classroom

I believe that…
 Teaching writing should be a transactional process between the student and teacher.
 I am not only a teacher of writing, but a coach of writing whose goal is to enable my students to find their authentic voice, develop their own process for writing, and discover creative ways to communicate ideas to their intended audience.
 I have as much to learn from my students as they have to learn from me.
 Learning is individual, different for everyone, flexible, and various assessment strategies should be used to measure success.
 I should assess my own teaching strategies based on the needs of my students.
 It is important to emphasize student strengths and respond positively to success and improvement.
 Learning proceeds best when learners find the learning personally meaningful in the here and now, when they have the sense that “I can do this” (Learning Theory and the Teaching of Grammar, Constance Weaver, p. 4)
 It is my responsibility to demonstrate to my students the strategies that work for me in writing so that they are able to see that as a writer, I share the same struggles that they face. In doing so, it is my intention to motivate my students and help them see the value of writing.
 It is my responsibility to maintain a classroom that my students feel safe and comfortable in. They should feel comfortable sharing thoughts, ideas, and suggestions. They should feel respected and valued as individuals and as a community of growing writers.
 It is my responsibility to provide my students with authentic learning experiences by engaging them in writing that has personal meaning and attachment, providing them the opportunity to learn from their own real life experiences which are valuable and unique in individual ways.
 Dictionaries and thesauruses are useful tools. They were not intended for hiding money or pressing flowers. They should not gather dust on the shelf. The pages of each should be worn and possibly frayed. Both should be within arm’s reach when revising or editing work.
 There are distinct differences in writing, revising, and editing. Writing the initial draft of a piece may include freewriting, which is an opportunity to get thoughts from head to paper, no matter how messy the outcome. Revising is a way to revisit those ideas, flush them out and begin to polish a piece. Revising may be a multi-step process. Editing is carefully reviewing the grammar, punctuation, and spelling, in a piece that is ready to be presented as the final product.
 Language expresses the power of the individual imagination and that nurturing a person’s reading and writing abilities enables the development of that power. (Literacy and the Politics of Education, C.H. Knoblauch, p.78) Writing frequently and consistently is the only way to develop that power to its full potential. I also believe that reaching this power is an emergent and continual process that takes place over the course of a lifetime.
 Students should have a “safe space” to write, free from the eyes of others, including the teacher. The Day Book is my personal space where my thoughts can find paper and I can cut, paste, and rearrange ideas so they can begin to make sense. It is my space that is a spring board for work and later projects. In my classroom, the Day Book will be that “safe space.”
 Evaluation of student writing should include thoughtful response to the work. It should encourage and empower students to write more.
 Students should be given multiple opportunities to polish a piece of writing so that they can see the value of the writing process and grow as writers.
 It is necessary to provide students with many opportunities for conferencing about their writing with me and with other students.
 When assessing student writing, grammatical issues are not the first and primary concern. Grammar should be taught as the student needs instruction and this instruction should be tailored to fit the student’s needs.
 It is necessary for writers of all levels to maintain a process portfolio that includes multiple drafts of pieces and experiments with multiple genres of writing.
 Reflective letters should be written after an assignment is completed and turned in with the final product. This will allow the student to explain his process and give me insight into the piece. This type of reflection is necessary for both student and teacher so that a student can explain his reasoning behind choices he makes as a writer, and so that the teacher can respond as a reader in ways that will encourage the student and enable him to write more.
 Finally, I do not believe that student writing should be restricted by form. When a student’s form of writing is restricted, his authentic voice is stifled and growth for the writer will not come naturally.

I am from...

2009-09-13T21:44:00.000-04:00

I am from homemade biscuits, orange salad, honeysuckles, and the pantry lined with jars of fresh green beans.

I am from the porch where Grandma sits to crack her pecans while a warm summer breeze makes a melody in the wind chimes.

I am from the rose bush, the Bradford Pear trees, and the rows of silver queen corn in Grandma’s garden.

I am from football games on Thanksgiving Day with aunts, uncles, and cousins in the back yard, from Alice and Teresa Ann, from Grandpa Jack and his five dollar bills that always put a smile on my face as a child, from Cordie Mae and Ollie Mae, too.

I am from the shouters at Pittsburgh Pirates games, and the togetherness of a tight-knit family. From track stars and wrestlers and football players. From clarinet and saxophone and guitar players. I am from poets.

From the den where I cracked Uncle Jamie in the head with a telephone and a poker, back when I was just “a little thang”. From “Something’s out there!” and “It’s Mary on the phone!”

I am from those who believe that family is the tightest bond and no matter where you go or what you do, or how old you get, you never outgrow that circle.

I am from good ole mountain people of Ashe County, NC, grandma’s chicken-n-dumplin’s, and her world- famous zucchini bread, covered with homemade, love-filled icing on the top.

From the tree house and backyard where Jamie and I used a shoebox, a stick, some yarn, and bread crumbs, impatiently waiting to catch a Blue Jay.

From the kitchen with the door that all the grandkids think leads to another secret world, known only as “The Basement…”

I am from the living room where the walls are lined with pictures of faces, each life represented in a frame; a place untarnished by time. A house where family gathers around Grandma’s table and laughter fills the air.

From there to here...

2009-09-13T01:06:00.000-04:00

"I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble."
~Helen Keller

From the time I was a little girl who used to line stuffed animals up in chairs and play school, I knew I wanted to be a teacher. I have always loved to read and I have kept some form of a journal since I was 10 years old, filling the pages with poems, narratives, and quotes, song lyrics, and scraps of paper with words that meant something to me. I grew up on stage performing in dance competitions and dramas, so the arts have always been a part of my life. I traveled doing construction work for five years after high school and learned many things including the values of hard work, independence, family, and a small town. I returned to my roots not because I failed out in the world, but because I could finally see what was here all along. My experiences have led me full circle and I have found a purpose and direction for my life. I look forward to teaching high school in Rockingham County, hopefully at the same high school that I attended. I want to make an impact where it matters to me the most: around my home and in the lives of teenagers. I am eager to help young people develop reading, writing, thinking, and speaking skills that will help them function as adults and be beneficial throughout their lives, no matter where their lives may lead them. I plan to work both inside and outside of the classroom with my students, fellow teachers, and parents to expand the programs and opportunities that are available to students in my community.

English is such a wonderful opportunity to allow students to explore and analyze the world around them through literature, theatre, and writing! While teaching English, I will encourage my students to become active in their community. I feel that service work is very important and it helps individuals grow into productive citizens who are able to contribute to the active and changing world around them. In the past, I have worked with the Rockingham County Literacy Project, YMCA's Empty Stocking Fund, and I volunteered with the Salvation Army for the summer of 2007.

I discovered my most passionate volunteer cause in 2007 when I adopted my dog Sophie from the Rockingham County Humane Society. Sophie became my most faithful running partner and I began volunteering there once I saw the impact this organization has on the lives of so many animals. I also saw the desperate need for money, volunteers, and supplies. I wanted to do more to help animals like Sophie. On May 30, 2009, the first Paws-n-Claws 5k Race and Fun Walk was held to benefit the Humane Society. I organized and directed this event which raised over $6,000 for abandoned and neglected animals in my community. It was a wonderful experience to combine my love of running and animals to do something good for the community.

(This is a photo of runners who heldped raise money for the animals.)

Over 150 people attended the event, including volunteers from local high schools. It was a great experience for me because I had the opportunity to work with city officials, business owners, and people in my county while planning the event. I met with high school principles to find ways to get students involved and enjoyed working with teenagers who volunteered their time and efforts. I also met with a group of 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade girls participating in a program called "Girls on the Run." The program was founded by a North Carolina woman who felt like running had helped her deal with many of the problems that teenage girls face. It is a 12 week course that combines character education, community service, and life lessons with training to run a 5k.

(These are some of the young ladies from "Girls on the Run")

These girls and the other student volunteers I have met have provided me with much inspiration because I see the eagerness they have to learn and contribute so they can make a difference in their community. So you see, my career as a teacher has already begun, even though I am still earning my degree. When working with these young people, I know that I am working with children who might one day be in my classroom as students, and I know without a doubt that I have chosen the right career path. I know that even my experiences outside of the classroom are helping me prepare for the day that I am a teacher.

I run for life, too.

2009-09-09T19:23:00.000-04:00

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Phillippians 4:13

If you ask her why she is still running,
She'll tell you it makes her complete.
I run for hope, I run to feel
I run for the truth, for all that is real
I run for your mother, your sister, your wife
I run for you and me my friend
I run for life.
--Melissa Etheridge
“I Run For Life”

At least once a week, someone asks me, “Why do you RUN? Of all things, WHY running?” So, I think it’s time I answer that question and put it in writing…

Most people I know think running is one form of exercise that is, well, “for the birds”, or for anyone other than themselves. And that’s all right; I just hope that everyone has something in their lives that motivates them. Everyone needs something that moves them, both physically and emotionally. Running does just that for me. I run because God has blessed me with the ability to do so. I remember very well the car wreck that caused me to lose the use of my legs seven years ago. I remember the hard year of surgeries, physical therapy, weight gain, depression, and loneliness. I thank God He saw fit to pull me out of the chaos my life was in during that time. So every time I lace up my running shoes, kick a soccer ball in the yard with my daughter, slow dance in my living room with my husband, push the pedal to drive myself to school, or ride a bicycle down a country road with my dad, I thank God that He gave me a second chance. Running helps me see my body as more than a number on a scale or a size on a tag. Running reminds me to treat my body well, because it’s the only one I have and the only one I’ll get.

Running is unique in that it is the one thing I do for myself, yet I can use it for the greater good, to make a small impact in the lives of many, and hopefully, inspire those around me. So how do I accomplish this? The answer is simple: I sign up for races that benefit charities. I plan races to benefit charities. I encourage others around me to MOVE. (You might not like to run, but you can walk!)

When I sign up for a race that supports cancer research, animals, education, adult literacy, or any other charity, I take it seriously and I push myself to train hard. When race day comes and I step up to the starting line, all those around me become a blur and the only competition lies within me. Winning a race is never my goal. I am not the fastest and I can’t go the farthest, but I CAN GO! I am just thankful and happy I can! And in those moments of the race I test my personal strength both physically and mentally. And if I ever feel I can’t make it, I remember how far I’ve come in life and that God still has plans for me.

As I cross the finish line, I have a special feeling that you can only get when you work really hard for something. Not just anything, but something you believe in. Not just yourself, but for others. Something to "pay it forward." There is strength in the individual, but there is more strength in the power of many. I get a sense of accomplishment and pride when think that “little old me” can come together with so many others to raise funds for organizations that focus on reaching out to those in the community. And there, at every finish line, are the smiling faces of my husband and my daughter, cheering me on, showing their support and love, and reminding me how much I am blessed.

So what gets you moving? Whether your cause is a cure for cancer, animal rights, education, political freedom, the whales and the dolphins, or whatever it might be…Find it. Hold on to it. Let it move you. And see where it takes you…

I am from...

2009-09-07T20:09:00.000-04:00

I am from fun-shaped pancakes, Nike before it was Nike Air, punchbowl cake and coffee, tin foil, and hose pipes.

I am from the white house with green shutters, the playhouse where I made mud pies with red berries and invited Daddy in for tea, and the living room where we broke the Atari joystick playing Pac Man.

I am from the angel trumpets in my grandmother's garden and the bushes of peonies that lined Daddy's sidewalk.

I am from the ghost stories of Coleman Street and a long line of dancers, from Grandma Elsie and her son Timmy, from honesty, hard work, and hugs given daily.

I am from stubbornness and those who speak their minds, from the holiday gatherings where I laughed with cousins as a child and cried with the same ones when Nannie died.

From "you're my favorite horse if you don't ever win a race" and "Don't take no wooden nickels." I'm from the "Sunny Side of the Street."

I am from the Methodists who sing all 4 verses of the hymn on Sunday morning and the Baptists who believe the Creation Story is no myth and that God is in control.

I am from Eden, the Wright brother's, the authentic First in Flight. From Nannie's orange Slice drink in a bottle on a hot summer day and Daddy's salmon cakes poppin' in their own grease on the stove.

From the soldier who served in Desert Storm when I was in the 5th grade, that feisty woman with the poofy white hair, and the woman who raised me like I was her own daughter.

I am from those who rest permanently on a hill off Sneed Road, the pictures I have to remember them by, from a father who tells me I am his hero, when really he is mine.