Through the Wardrobe

I think it's time to get back to blogging, mostly for my own sake if for no one else's occasional enjoyment. It's good to look back from time to time and reflect on what crossed my mind, tickled my fancy, or made an impact over the past year...

Take this Christmas break, for example. It's been rather laid back - we've done some visiting, some church-going, some baking and cooking, some marathon training, and a LOT of reading. When I arrived at my parents' house in Michigan, I remembered that I had left a few boxes of books in the basement - these were books I couldn't bear to part with (even if they would be collecting dust in the basement) when I went from classroom teacher to school administrator last summer. In this box of books was the Chronicles of Narnia boxed set, so I brought that up, started reading, and plan to bring the complete set home with me when I head back to Chicago in a few days. (I've never actually read the whole series, which, as a religion teacher for many years, I am ashamed to admit, as the themes are so rich for teaching the faith.)

But anyways...once upon a time in my early teaching days in Arizona, I used The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe as a read aloud for my fourth grade class. Now, I know as a teacher you're not supposed to have favorites, but this particular class was pretty darn special. Some of that was due to the fact that I had the most amazing group of parents with whom some, to this day, I still keep in touch. As we read through the novel, I got to thinking it would be pretty incredible to create Narnia for my students, so I suggested it to the parents, and they brought my idea to life. (And this was back before the days of Pinterest!) With an adjoining empty classroom, it wasn't too hard. They must have done most of the set-up during the morning, and when my class went to specials, they put the wardrobe in my classroom. When the kids got back, they went nuts! Cries of "It's Narnia!" rang through our room, and they, of course, wanted to try it out. (Who wouldn't?)

We opened the "wardrobe" (which was probably a refrigerator box, but I don't quite remember), and went next door. The parents had done an incredible job - snowflakes were hanging from the ceiling, miniature houses and cotton balls created a sense of a village, and there were toy figurines representing some of the characters, including Aslan. We even had a lamppost! (That I remember clearly as being made from a pole and two clear Chinese take-out boxes engineered together.) After some looking around, my students settled in for a read aloud - we probably read a chapter or two. And then it was time to leave.

By the time we got back from lunch, the wardrobe was gone, Narnia had been whisked away, and it seemed like it had all been a dream. One student astutely pointed out, "Maybe it only happens when it's a cold rainy day," which it surprisingly was that morning. (In Arizona, imagine that!) But my, what a morning we had. And every time I reread Narnia, I'll think of that class and those parents and the magic of opening our imaginations with the creative help from those parents.

In my ten years of teaching, I know I made a lot of mistakes as a teacher, probably more mistakes than things I did right, and I probably didn't raise as many test scores as I should have, but I'm pretty sure they learned at least a little. Above all, I hope my students remember that they had teachers who believed in them, challenged their creative and critical thinking, and loved them.

It's funny how little things hold such big places in our hearts even years and years later. It's memories like these that make me realize I found the vocation God planned for me...and that make me realize I should probably write these things down. ;)

What's the story behind the painting?

To anyone else besides my dad, mom, or sister, the painting that now hangs above my office door would probably carry little meaning. In fact, it's hard to tell at first glance (or, perhaps, even a second or third glance) what the painting is really about. While I do like the painting itself, I am much more content that it found its home in my office because it belonged to my great aunt who passed away this summer.

What's the reason it came into my possession and not someone else's? Well, it's not a long story...but it's not a short story either, so bear with me.

My great aunt, Marg (or, as she fondly dubbed herself, "Aunt Marg, the Great") lived for quite some time most recently in an assisted living facility in a small town in Michigan, and we would go to visit her whenever we were in town. It wasn't necessarily a quick car ride, but we usually made a day out of it, bringing her coffee and soup from Panera and then visiting other family friends out that way later in the evening.

Now, you had to be careful around Aunt Marg - if you mentioned offhand that you liked something she had, you might end up taking it home. So, when she made a big deal out of liking a painting that hung by the elevators on the fifth floor of her complex, I couldn't help but take note of it. And she certainly talked about the painting many times - I wish I could remember what it was that exactly stood out to her in it. 

But that it mattered that much to her was enough for me. I decided I would figure out what this painting was called and how I could get a copy for her (because I surely couldn't steal it from the wall - not that anyone but Marg would have likely noticed). I must say that it's somewhat difficult to figure out a painting's title without the artist's name or some other concrete facts like when it was painted. I found myself typing into the Google search engine things like "woman in red dress dancing on the beach" and "umbrella" and "maid" until I found its title: "The Singing Butler." (See what Wikipedia has to say about it here.) The title really didn't make sense to me, but from that I was able to google it and find a decently priced poster version of it.

I'll never forget how the poster arrived - it came in a triangular tube, so it had some creases, which my dad couldn't help but point out to me. But I wasn't going to let that stop me or get me down - we flattened it out with some heavy books, and then we brought it to Aunt Marg on our next visit. She loved it, and her son and daughter-in-law ended up getting a nice frame for it, and it hung in her apartment until she passed away in June. I'm not sure if it was my dad or my great aunt who made note that I would get the artwork when she died, but this summer I was informed it was mine now.


So, when my dad came to Chicago to visit about a month or so ago, he brought it with him...and it sat on the floor of my office until today, when some of our wonderful maintenance staff hung it on the wall for me. I'm sure there will be plenty of people (students and adults, alike) who will be in and out of my office in the coming years and months who'll wonder why that painting means enough to me for it to hang above my door. And, if they ask, I can tell them about a wonderful woman who always looked at events and setbacks as "life's little adventures" and who definitely lived up to her name, "Aunt Marg, the Great."

Al Amanecer...At Sunrise

Al amanecer.

(At dawn.)

Sounds so beautiful in Spanish, doesn't it?

In any language, though, sunrise is a beautiful sight to behold. I have had my fair share of incredible sunrises on my way to work since the start of this school year - they are especially breathtaking when the clouds do their magic, causing purples and golds and scarlets to dance across the sky.

While I love my daily commute sunrises, what I love even more is getting to the lakefront just as the sun breaks over the horizon during my weekly long runs. Last week's in particular caught me by surprise, and it made me believe I was like Bert (the chimneysweep) and Mary Poppins jumping into one of their sidewalk art pieces...

Kind of takes your breath away, doesn't it?

Getting up a few minutes earlier than is reasonable for a weekend to see something like that is well worth it. But I guess I have always been an early riser - who can sleep in when such beauty and potential awaits for those ready to begin the day?

Speaking of beauty, I ended up going to the Chicago Botanical Gardens with my sister and brother-in-law last weekend, and many flowers were still in bloom. Here are some photos from the day...and from the trip directly after to Graeter's --> 

The weather was beautiful this weekend for yet another run, but the winds are blowing in now, and it looks like it will be a chilly adventure to meet up with my sister and some friends downtown in just a little bit. Our days can't always be picture-perfect, but our hearts can always be full of gratitude for the gifts we receive every day and the people we share our days and time with along this journey of life.

We are all connected

A forwarded email from my mom: "Mitch Albom is coming to Chicago."

Exciting news, yes, but I left it alone for awhile. There were already too many things on my plate this week...

And then Facebook invited me to an event with Mitch Albom in Chicago.

I decided I couldn't ignore it anymore. My heart told me I should sign up.

I didn't know who of my friends was a Mitch Albom fan, so I did something slightly uncharacteristic - I bought a single ticket to the event, and I took myself. (Maybe I'm getting a tad more adventurous in my old age.)

I'm glad I bought that ticket. What a night...

Not only is Mitch Album an incredibly gifted storyteller on paper; he is a very engaging speaker. The audience was laughing, crying, and everything in between. This event was part of his book tour for his latest release, The Next Person You Meet in Heaven (sequel to The Five People You Meet in Heaven), yet he only spent a fraction of his time (about an hour and a half) actually talking about the book. He spent most of his time just telling us his story, sharing the people and the interactions (however seemingly small) that brought him to how he was standing in front of us that evening.

And we are all where we are right now due to the people and interactions we experienced in our own lives. For myself, a few easily come to mind (as I am sure some easily come to mind for you)...

*My high school was run by the Salesian priests and brothers. During my time there, they helped me develop my spirituality and relationship with God. In college, I ended up working at a Salesian summer camp, and during ACE I worked at a Salesian school. Their charism helped shape the teacher and leader I have become.

*At my parish growing up, an ACE teacher joined our choir because we sang the same "Our Father" as the Notre Dame Folk Choir. Through her (and ACE teachers at my high school), my sister and I learned about the ACE program, and we ended up applying and completing the program after college. The friends I met through the program are some of the greatest people I know, and they have taught me many things over the past 10 years. I don't know where I would be right now if I didn't do the ACE teaching program.

*In college, my sister and I took a class with a girl who was part of a morning running group. When she learned that we ran occasionally with our family, she invited us to join. The runners in that group were the ones who encouraged us to keep at the distance running and to run our first marathon, Disney. Since then I have run 6 other marathons (and my sister has run 7 other ones). How fortunate to have crossed paths with that college classmate during freshman year.

There are plenty of other examples - it's truly incredible, and I don't believe there is one string of cause and effect in one's life. (It's way too complicated for that!) But Mitch Albom's lesson to us was that we are all connected. Sometimes we affect another person's life, and we may not even realize it (or it happens way down the road/we never meet the person). It's a beautiful, beautiful thing.

I love Mitch Albom for a number of reasons, but I think my number one reason is because he teaches such profound (yet, at the same time, simple) lessons through his books and articles about human relationships, loving others, and living a meaningful life.

Do yourself a favor and pick up one of his books if you haven't read one before. And, if you have read some/all of them, go back and re-read. I guarantee there's another layer of lessons to be uncovered. His books are those which you simultaneously want to devour and read slowly so as to absorb every word.

Happy reading!

Bonus: a few photos --> 

Little Reminders...and Little Lessons

It was getting to be that point of the school year that I was starting to question a few things - whether I am right for my new position, if I'm being most efficient and effective with my time at school, whether I'm making a difference...

The list goes on, as it often does.

And then came a few reminders that I'm right where I need to be (granted, there is always room for improvement):

- a note from ACE Advocates with a mustard seed reminder about having faith to move mountains:

- a card (and gift card) from my principal about working together:

- a beautiful bracelet with the word "inspire" and an accompanying thank you note from a friend in the Remick Leadership program thanking me for encouraging her (and for passing on some textbooks):

The people who sent/gave these things probably didn't realize just how much they meant to me, especially at this moment in my life. But I am so grateful for these little reminders...and the reminder to be that reminder (if you can follow that one - haha) for others too.

We are in the business of Catholic education - our students (and faculty) are gifts to us each and every day, as they give us a chance to interact with Jesus. They teach us lessons in forgiveness, love, compassion, hope, faith, and courage. It helps to press the pause button and reflect on these little lessons along the way.

I owe so much to the Salesians...

The Salesian sisters are some of the most amazing women I have ever met. Through their summer camps, work in schools, prayers, and more they have touched so many lives.

 A few weeks ago I was flipping through their monthly magazine publication and came across a page asking people to “adopt a sister,” and, though it wasn’t asking for a lot, I knew I wanted to help and give back in a small way. Today, I received news (a letter, certificate, bio, and Blessed Mother picture) that I had adopted Sr. Liz - what a blessing and honor to support and pray for her (and to have her pray for me too).

I found a use for this frame I've had forever!

If you feel so inclined to donate too ;)

God bless the Salesian sisters and their ministry - they truly are the hands and feet of God. Mary, Help of Christians, pray for us!

Slow and steady

"How do you like your new job?"

This is one of the first questions on my family and friends' minds that they inevitably asked me this week as the school year started up and we welcomed children through our school doors.

So far so good, I think. 

But, in all honesty, I don't really know yet. The truth is, it's only been a week with the students, two weeks with the teachers. The large parts of my job - student discipline and teacher observations - haven't really started yet. Most of my time thus far has been spent in meetings, working things out with the principal, fielding questions from parents and teachers, and doing many a lunch and recess duty. (So far I have loved lunch duty because I'm getting to learn the students' names.) In terms of getting in a groove or knowing my schedule, I simply don't.

But I am learning - learning names, learning routines, learning what's been done before (and figuring out what might need some tweaking/change), learning policies... 

And then I remind myself that I was at my previous school for seven years - I didn't get to know all of the families and students overnight there either. (It's just hard to remember that in the moment.) It's going to take time and effort... And that's something I'm willing to give because I recognize what an incredible community I am now a part of and how much I can learn from my principal and colleagues and, hopefully, how much I can contribute in return.

No one said change was going to be easy. But I have faith it's going to be more than just all right.