A Response to Tragedy

I recognize that, most likely, no one will read this, but I feel the need to publicly express what's rolling around in my heart and mind this morning regarding the tragedy in Connecticut.

Although I know that schools are quite possibly the safest places to be, one of my greatest fears as a teacher is someone coming to school with a gun, intent on doing harm.  That fear was realized for too many people today.  My heart is broken.  There are no words to express how deeply saddened I am at the loss of young lives.

However, many are latching on to this horrific event as an excuse to promote their own gun control agendas.  That, in my mind, is absolutely inappropriate.  First of all, show some respect for those who are mourning.  Give them a chance to grieve before turning their sadness into a political opportunity.  (I regret the fact that they feel the need to politicize this instead of providing comfort and shoulders to cry on, but this is the reality of the world we live in.)  Second of all, this is not a gun control issue.  More stringent gun control would not have prevented this tragedy.  The shooter's mother owned her guns legally, but it did not stop this young man from using those guns to commit an atrocity.  If someone wants a gun to shoot inside an elementary school, or anywhere else for that matter, he/she will obtain a gun, legally or otherwise.  Laws only keep honest people honest.  Those intent on harming others do not, generally, show concern for how many laws they are breaking in the process. 

The issue here is not gun control or safety measures in schools (or lack thereof).  The issue here is not that simple.  The issue here is the hate and anger that was allowed to take root in a broken young man's heart.  A hate that only Jesus can heal.  The senseless loss of life included this young man who was in so much pain that shooting others, and then himself, seemed the only option left.  Oh, how this world needs Jesus.  It's not a simple answer.  It's not a politically correct answer.  But it's the only answer that makes sense.  Jesus is the only hope left to turn to.  Let us use this tragedy not as an excuse to promote our own selfish political agendas, but as an opportunity to share His hope and love with a broken world searching for answers.


P.S.  Just in case you feel the need to be mean: please no angry, argumentative, political, or otherwise disrespectful comments.  They are not welcome and will be deleted.

The Job Search

As some of you know, I decided back in February to not sign the offered contract for next year.  There are myriad reasons, both personal and professional, that all add up to the fact that it’s time to move on; Alaska is not a good fit for me anymore.  Because of that, I am now 10 school days (and 15 days total) away from joining the ranks of the unemployed.  Besides the obvious, there are 2 problems with this: I don’t know where to look, and I don’t deal well with rejection.

I have been told that the sky is the limit, and it really is.  I am not married, have no kids, no significant other, and no attachment with any particular geographic location.  I could literally go anywhere in the world.  For someone who has trouble making decisions, this is not a good thing.  I have narrowed it down to somewhere closer to my family.  That doesn’t really help, though, because there are several states that are closer to Idaho than where I am now: Washington, Oregon, Montana, Wyoming, Utah, Colorado, the Dakotas, California, etc.  I’m kind of overwhelmed.  The trouble is not with finding a job.  The trouble is with knowing where to look and how to focus the search. 

I don’t deal well with rejection.  At all.  This is because I tend to take things personally, and this is proving especially true in relation to teaching.  Teaching isn’t just a job or a career for me; it’s a calling.  Being a teacher is part of who I am.  Therefore, when I am told that I am not what they are looking for or I’m not good enough, they are not just rejecting me for the job.  It feels like they are personally rejecting me as a person.  It’s not true, and form letters should be impersonal enough to soften the blow, but they don't.  It’s enough to throw me into a funk. 

Spring is finally making a beautiful appearance in Alaska, but I am having a hard time enjoying because I am so burdened by my inability to find a job, the hassles of moving 2000 miles south, and the inevitable rejection that accompanies a job search.

Iditarod!

January, as a month, is okay.  Sure, we're coming down off a major holiday and all the sugary goodness that goes with it.  But that gives us a fitness goal to focus on.  And there's still enough leftover goodwill in the air that nobody wants to strangle anybody else for a good part of the month.  Then comes February.  The longest, coldest, darkest month ever.  Some might try to tell you that there are only 28 (or 29) days, so it is actually the shortest month.  Don't believe them.  It's all a lie.  February is full of long, dark, cold days followed by long, cold, dark nights, with nothing to break up the monotony.

But then comes the glorious month of March.  It's not the best month ever, but its coming means that February is over and that is something to be thankful for.  Now, for some of you, March might mean the beginning of spring.  Not so much in Alaska.  March is still very much a winter month.  (And so is April, but that's another matter entirely).  Dog sledding is a winter sport, and the fact that we still have enough winter to hold a dog sled race in March says something about our weather.  March is still (very) cold, but the days are longer than the nights, and the whole month seems shorter because there is something to get excited about.  That something is the Iditarod. 

The Iditarod is a 1000-mile sled dog race that runs from Anchorage to Nome each year.  It starts on the first Saturday in March, and ends a couple of weeks later.  There are 25 checkpoints along the way that mushers must check in to, and Elim is privileged to be one of those checkpoints.  We get to see all the teams coming through, and usually time our spring break to coincide with when the majority of the teams are passing. Spring break in itself is enough, but to have it coincide with 60 dog teams running through is pretty cool.

The first teams started coming through on Monday.  I kept an eye on the internet tracker all day, knowing that the first teams had left Koyuk.  From there, it's about 7 hours to Elim.  The kids knew what was coming, and were darn excited.  A gauge of our focus level came right at the beginning of the day.  We were reviewing coins and thinking about the features of each one.  I asked, "Does anyone remember from yesterday whose face is on the quarter?"  Right in front, one little girl piped up, "Jeff King!"  Jeff King is a musher who has won several Iditarods and came out of retirement to run this year.  I knew then and there that we weren't getting anything done that day. 

I let the kids go about five minutes early because the first team was close and they all made a bee-line for the fire hall/armory/checkpoint.  Dallas Seavey was in first place.  He didn't stay long, just long enough to grab his food bags, some straw, and let the vets check his dogs.

He's a young'un!  He loaded those bags onto his sled along with some straw.  Rumor has it, he stopped a couple miles out of the village to rest and snack his dogs instead of stopping in the village.  Something about throwing off the competition.  (It must have worked, because he ended up winning!) 

The vets check every dog at every checkpoint.

Back on the trail to Nome!

We waited around for another half an hour or so because we knew that the next musher wasn't far behind.  Aily Zirkle rolled into town and actually parked her team for a break.  She moved around bedding down her dogs and feeding them, while the vets did their thing.

The crowd started to thin out at this point.  The next musher wasn't expected for at least another hour.  The kids, however, were having a ball.  One of my students is an animal lover, particularly dogs, and I watched her stand motionless watching this team for a long time.

Some other students had another idea for a good vantage point:

Those are big straw bales they are laying on. 

And, of course, no post would be complete without a shot of Maquire the Moose, whom the cameraman was carrying around and letting the kids play with. 

A Christmas in Review

A quick jaunt through the memories of the most recent Christmas holiday, told through pictures.  (It's 2:00 a.m. and I'm sitting in an airport.  Pictures are the best my sleep-deprived mind can do at the moment.) 

Even after the classroom tree is undecorated and taken outside, the memory (and a little more) still remains.

It seems we've had this problem before.  Something about small, old mixers and 5 cups of flour just don't mix well.

Awww.  A clean table! Not for long! (Insert evil cackle here.)

We used every plate she owns and then some.

Note the matching pajama pants.  A Christmas tradition!

This is quite possibly our finest moment. :-)

Apparently, the trend this year was tormenting the dog by tying ribbons to her collar.

This has nothing to do with Christmas, but I found 22 year old pickles in the back corner of a cupboard in the kitchen while I was looking for mint extract.  (I swear my mom has every spice/flavoring/scent/baking whatever known to man, but no mint extract.  How is that even possible?!)

Winding down break by going to lunch with a good friend!

It's Field Trip Time Again!

Every year, I take my kids on a completely uneducational field trip.  We take a sled and a saw, and go cut down a Christmas tree for our classroom, just because we can.  It's grown into somewhat of a tradition for me, and students come back to my room every year to see the new tree and reminisce about their own trip. 

I run up against this thought every year, even though it never ends up mattering: This has absolutely nothing to do with anything we're learning.  There is no redeeming educational value to this excursion.  And I think that's okay.  I think we get so caught up in standards, achievement, and testing sometimes that we forget that we are not dealing with little adults.  These are not just really short 18-year-olds.  They're little kids, and they need the chance to be kids once in a while.  They need to roll around in snow banks, make snow angels, and wonder about the dogs tied up by the side of the road.  They need to expend some of that energy that gets built up during long winter days and weeks inside.  If that means taking them on a walk and hauling back a tree without once mentioning science or math or reading, or turning it into a writing assignment when we get back, then I am totally on board with that.  School should not be solely drudgery, but rather should include fond memories that hopefully involve some learning.  

This year's trip actually started better than previous years, mainly due to the weather.  It was mostly cloudy, but no gale force winds.  A little breeze was picking up, but we decided to walk towards Tank Farm - the "gas station" for the village.  The road up there is lined with trees and willows, which provided a bit of a wind break. 

The kindergarten class had come with us, so we were actually looking for two trees.  We found a decent-looking tree for our room, and I managed to saw it down without hitting anyone in the head as it fell.  The trunk was pretty small, so it wasn't as bad as I had anticipated.  It was a little tall, maybe about 6 feet, but it wasn't super-bushy, so it wasn't too heavy.  The kids helped me carry it down to the road and got it situated on the plastic sled we had brought for that very purpose.  We found a tree for the kindergarten, and Wanda and I eventually got it hacked down.

The trip back was a little slower.  We were pulling two trees, the kindergarten tree kept falling off the sled, and the little ones were getting tired.  At one point, though, I was walking down the road, holding hands with a kid on each side, pulling the sled behind us.  Walking in a winter wonderland, completely content.  I honestly wondered if life could get any better than that. 

These kids are such troopers!

The real adventure started when we got back to the classroom.  We got the tree in the stand and started to screw in the screws that are supposed to hold the tree in place.  Remember how I mentioned that the trunk wasn't too too big around?  Well, the only problem with that is the trunk of the tree wasn't quite big enough around.  Even with the screws all the way in, the tree was wobbly and threatening to fall over.  I leaned it towards the TV stand, praying it would hold, while we went next door for hot chocolate and Rice Krispy treats with the kindergarteners. 

Just looking at it makes me chuckle, even now!

Then came the challenge of stabilizing the darn tree enough to put some sort of decorations on it.  Stringing lights was a challenge, as I needed about four hands to hold the tree and the lights.  After getting the lights on it, I leaned the tree against the whiteboard and gave the kids little ornaments, with instructions to put theirs on a branch that had no other decorations.  That kept them occupied for about 5 minutes. :-)

After school, I was working with some older students in my room to complete an assignment for the course that I'm taking right now.  Without warning, the tree tipped all the way over, crashing into some tubs of books and spilling water everywhere.  Between the 5 of us in there, we got the tree set back up and scrunched into a corner to keep it from tipping again.  Wanda came in not long after that, and as I shared our latest incident, she said she had some wood blocks that we might be able to jam into the stand to stabilize the trunk.  I got the older students involved in an activity, and then Wanda held the tree steady while I took the screws out enough to jam blocks into the stand.

Thanks to her, the tree is now standing straight and proud, a paragon of beauty, filling the room with the delicious piney scent that is synonymous with the holiday season.

It looks a little scraggly, but it works for us.  I must say, though, you can tell we're all short because most of the decorations are down at the bottom. :-)

Autumn in Alaska

John, another teacher, took Richelle (my new roommate) and I out for a ride on his four-wheeler yesterday.  I had declined a trip out to the hot springs last weekend and begged out of a picnic on Friday citing asthma concerns, so I figured taking a break from my mile-long homework list couldn't be all bad.  I'm so glad I did!  The sore muscles from hanging on to the back of the four-wheeler, and asthma and allergy problems from goodness knows what are definitely worth the beauty of autumn in Alaska!

The farthest shade of blue is the Norton Sound.

So much color!

Autumn snuck up on me!  I hadn't expected to see the foliage changing colors yet!

This is where we stopped for a blueberry snack break.  That's what happens when the driver stops and announces, "I want to eat blueberries."

End of the line.  The trail ends here.  We were about 15 miles out of the village at this point.

This is quite possibly my most favoritest view ever.  As you crest the top of a hill, this is the view that suddenly comes into view.  It takes my breath away every time.

A vicious branch reached out and bit my arm.  I'm uninjured, but my coat definitely isn't waterproof anymore!

A picture is worth a thousand words.  So, I'll summarize this summer with a few illustrations of the highlights.

Oops.

This is the story of an egg.

An egg left in a bowl of vinegar until the shell dissolved.  Information courtesy of Jeopardy.

That's what the inside of an egg looks like.

Vicki and I rode to Lucky Peak and back.  Twice.  Once in June and once in July.

We hiked into Boulder Lake in July.

The trail ended and we had a choice - hike up the rock face. . .

. . . or cross this river.  Guess which one we chose.

There's a gangsta in our midst.

We hung the hobo on the sign.  Bonus point if you can spot the grammar mistake.

Decorating cars is somewhat of an art in the Brewer family.

Mary now has an as yet unnamed little lamb.