Saturday, August 29, 2009

And all manner of things shall be well.

Ellllooooo lovely people. I sincerely hope that this post finds everyone having a genuinely joyful day. I have a lot of words and feelings in me, but have seriously started and restarted this entry six times already, so I'm just going to spin a few thoughts that I really want you all to know, underlying all the while that even know I'm an awkward blog greeter, there is never not a huge relief when one is known. A here we go, a here we go now.

Tomorrow will my third day ever of teaching, and I find myself in a very interesting pattern of activities and emotions, if you will. For contextual purposes, I will say that the first week of most Special Education teachers' school years are spent meeting and diagnosing kids, meeting with their general education teachers, and then trying to work out a schedule, based on what the kid needs to learn much, and so on and so forth. All of that to say that although I've been Ms. VZ for two whole days, my interactions with kids, and teaching in general is far less than I would have hoped, so I might be a rare case for a first year teacher, in that I am craving something to work hard for and get sweaty palms over- because I see my peers on their feet, teaching like their hair's on fire all day, and I am reading case studies and histories of kids. Really interesting kids, but you get the idea. I say this all the while knowing that come Monday, this will all change I really hope, because there is so much to do, and thus far, I can confidently say that I am blown away by the fact that I get paid to do this. There are many eternal things in this world, to be sure, but teaching in any medium, and the personal investment that comes from that, is a consistently humbling and overwhelmingly thankful feeling.

Having training end, Skotti come to Gallup, being home, and moving in for reals here, has been a collage, if you will, of being provided exactly what was needed, but what I had no idea was needed. Skotti, you were such a refreshing presence to have here, and having you know what the astroturf in my backyard feels like has subconsciously given me the assurance that Gallup does not have to be a forgotten place unless I make it that way. I'm learning little by little to celebrate, with every facial expression I have, the small victories, like the fact that the skies here are absolutely massive, or that I look and speak and act very differently from most of my community. And the fact that My housemates are good people, and inch by inch, real conversations are taking place amidst house scream-venting fests and Gilmore Girls nights; so in so many areas, I couldn't ask for anything more.

Upon receiving our diplomas, we departed to save the world before we turned 24. This concept has been spoken upon and emphasized over and over in all great literature and sermons, but I still don't know what it looks like to be patient. I gave myself about 2 hours to make Gallup feel like home and make teaching an easy endeavor, and it's just another example of the myriad of facets of my character that are being incredibly humbled and brought into the bright New Mexican light- as relocating seems to do, I suppose.

You all inspire and fill me with things only genuine friends can fill anyone with, and those words are no less sincere than they were when we were singing our undying love to Taylor Swift's Romeo in the all-time favorite ballad. Even amid the silences, all my prayers and thoughts are being shot toward you.

Peace like a river,
Lindsey