If I were a dog I would be running in a circle, chewing my own tail, and then looking around the room for a chew toy. This is just the way today is going. Scoring a tranquilizer or going on a kennel run should be high on my priority list. What does that make me? A golden retriever? A miniature poodle? A Jack Russell terrier? You’d think I was beyond the idea of writing my blog in bullet form or numbering, but today I am not. Today, I am a hyper dog.

1. Working in a school will ensure that you hear the same phrases over and over again. I’d list them all but if you work in a school you could probably come up with the same ones I have experienced. It’s a universal problem and I could spend a week in a school in Australia and recognize the language as being similar to what we hear in North America (see that, Canada? WE’RE TOGETHER IN THIS!). 

What I keep learning is that it all comes down to beliefs. Teachers don’t want to enforce certain rules because they don’t believe in them. We end up projecting our values and norms onto students in our schools. I see it in our government right now when determining how we’re going to handle the proposal of health care. I’m not sure everyone in this country believes that we all deserve health care. Until that belief is there, we’re going to stop the work that is happening to get. (I do NOT want to start an entire discussion with the interwebs about health care in the United States. Dear sweet Jesus knows I don’t. Even dear sweet Buddha knows it. So does Confucius. Especially Confucius.)

2. One of my sons has a teacher who is giving extra credit for bringing in tissues and colored markers and canned food. I have so much of an issue with that right now and it’s not because we’re in a recession. Of course, we’re “in a recession” because I still have a job. If I were jobless then I’d say we’re “in a depression”. Anyway, I had to re-evaluate whether I did this as a teacher or not and I can’t remember. I probably did. What’s the statute of limitations on apologizing to my former students? SORRY, KIDS AND YOUR PARENTS. THAT WAS CARELESS OF ME.

3. Speaking of former students, one of them invited me to her pinning ceremony because she is getting her degree in nursing. Unfortunately, I can’t attend. Jamie is one of the students I had in 6th, 7th, and 8th grade (that was back when I looped with my kids and it was pretty amazing to see them grow in that amount of time) and she knows all about my friendship with Allen. 

4. Shorty needs to just go ahead and call 911. He’s on fire on the dance floor. This is a constant concern of mine when I hear that song.

5. I have a LOFT giveaway going on in the review section of my blog which can be found here. Go and vote on your favorite outfit I created with the help of a stylist and you could win a $200 gift card from LOFT. That’s TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS. What dog gives away that kind of gift, huh?

This post is one of those that I probably won’t ever go back and read through again. Unless there’s lots of comments that make me ask, “What the hell did I write about that made them say that in the comments?”

Hyper dog, people. I can’t help it. I feel safe here so I know you’ll be okay with all this. CIRCLE OF TRUST.

In doing this purse drive I’m trying to keep up with all that’s happened. When I shared it with a friend of mine who has seen the purses flood into the school he said, “You know, this is bigger than you now.” That became apparent very quickly because in my mind this really was a small thing. A very small gesture that began with a seed: if I bring in a few of my old purses these girls can have them. It’s an oak tree now and includes purses from all over. California, Indiana, New York, Kansas, New Orleans, Connecticut, Michigan, England, and Ireland. Each time my mom picks up the packages at the post office she helps me open them and we read the cards that people enclose and the notes that are inside some of the purses and we are overjoyed each and every time. We smile and hold up the purses, “Look at this one!” and “How cute!” and “Someone is going to LOVE this one!” It is a ritual that hasn’t gotten old. We just like to hold them in our hands knowing that some girl is going to happen upon a purse that she just has to have and then take it home with her.

There have been purses dropped off at my school, too, by locals. People I don’t know who read about the story in the newspaper and decided to join. A woman, whose two children I taught years ago, who called the school to talk to me and catch me up on how her son and daughter are doing and who shared with me that her mother had graduated from my high school many decades ago. A local church Sunday school group who has taken the project on themselves and gather them together to donate. It’s beyond me now. It’s bigger than I could have imagined but grassroots-type efforts always seem to do that, don’t they?

Last week while my committee girls were selling purses at lunchtime there was a student who came to stand close to me. It’s not unusual for her to do that. She’s often by herself and is very shy and quiet so we chat about how her weekends were or what kind of homework she’s had lately. I never miss a chance to speak with her. She has that look, that needy gaze that tells me she only needs a moment of my time and then she usually trots off someplace else. But she lingered one day and I asked her what she thought of the purse drive. She said it was a good idea and she wishes she could have one. Do you know that feeling of playing Santa Claus when it’s not Christmas? I leaned over and whispered to her, “Why don’t you pick out your very favorite purse and tell me which one you like best? You can have it. We can make this happen.” Again. It was small. It was Santa-y, but still, small. If she herself were a Christmas tree she would have lit up right there on the spot complete with flashing lights and tinsel and sparkles.

Today, in the mail, there were 10 boxes of purses from different people. If there were even one more opportunity to make a girl feel what I read on her face in that moment then I hope I get to see it.

I wish you could see it, too.

5:00 I’m up. I’m pissed that I’m up. I can’t believe that once again, I am up.

6:00 I realize that I have to dress nicely today because I’m taking some students to a special luncheon with the Ambassador to Swaziland.

6:10 Google Maps: Where exactly is Swaziland?

7:00 Ready to go to work. Cannot find favorite earrings. What kind of earrings would the Ambassador to Swaziland appreciate?

7:45 Show up at a middle school where I used to work to give a speech to 8th graders. Fall in love with the group of 8th graders. Visit with former colleagues. LOVE former colleagues.

9:00 Head over to my school where I am putting together a new office. It’s kind of exciting and fun.

11:00-11:25 Search frantically for the kids going on the field trip with me to meet the Ambassador. Cram them into my very dirty car.

12:00 Run into my friend, Scott. Convince the students that no, he is not my boyfriend. Lecture all the girls on being able to have male friends. 

12:10 Watch the girls pick at the chicken salad we’re having for lunch. Tell them about putting their napkin into their laps. Get admonished because, “We KNOW. We learned this in home economics.” Tell them, “Good! Now it’s time to PRACTICE those good manners!”

12:15 Lean over to the three girls who are pushing chicken salad around on their plate and say, “We’ll stop for burgers and fries on the way back to school.” 

12:16 Win them over FOR LIFE because I am the coolest. No. Really. The Coolest.

2:00 Stop for burgers and fries with the girls. Listen to teenagers discuss freely their lives. Cherish this moment. 

5:00 Leave work for home. Continue smiling about a pretty awesome day. 

I’m not even worrying about my favorite earrings or Swaziland anymore.

I suppose I could wax poetic about the events of the last few days but honestly? I just don’t have the energy. And yet, here it is the month of NaBloPoMo where I vowed to write every single day of this month. I realize I dropped a bomb on readers the other day when I mentioned that I’d be leaving my school to go to another one in the district. So, just a few details and then off with you to read this very small story in my local newspaper:

1. I’m staying as Asst. Principal at my current high school.

2. Everyone appears to be confused. That’s ok. Your hair smells good today so just go with it.

3. My students came out to protest my leaving the high school. There was a lot of honking going on in the street yesterday morning. They organized themselves, got some posters and t-shirts, and stood outside the school yesterday. ON THEIR DAY OFF. They didn’t have to get up. These are high school students who love their sleep, people! Remember how much you loved your sleep as a teenager? 

That’s it for now. Oh, except we’re also getting some newspaper coverage for our Small Purse Project. And that everyone is making assumptions about everything lately. 

Assume away. While you do that, I’ll be working with my students. This job never ends.

I must admit: this is one of those times when I am in awe of what I have been able to do with a blog. At first, I read blogs in the hopes that I could learn something about the author and read with interest about their own anecdotes and stories. It took no time at all for me to exclaim, “Hey! I could do that!” and then this nagging voice in the back of my head would tell me that I hated writing and that I even hated teaching writing so why would I start an online journal of things that happen in my life? 

That stupid, nagging voice has been shut up for about 5 years now.

I must also admit: I had no idea that people from Springfield were actually reading me unless they were my friends who pitied me and felt compelled to write a comment now and then. I’M LOOKING AT YOU, BECKY. (I’m kidding. Becky doesn’t pity me.) (At least I hope she doesn’t.) (Because I love her to pieces. That’s why I hope she doesn’t. She’s ten shades of awesome yellow sunshine in my life.) (You know what happens when you mention just one of your friends? You have to mention them all.) (I’m going to get this over with, ok? Janie, Tammy, Kay, Lisa… hmm. Guess I don’t have that many friends.) So when I began reading comments recently I was surprised that so many people who live in my town are now reading my blog. I’d like to apologize if I’ve ever cut you off in traffic, ran to the checkout counter before you just to get served first, or if you sit behind me in a movie theatre because I’m so tall and annoying to have to see around. I also pop my gum and irritate most people within a 5 foot radius.

Other than that, I’m a pretty good neighbor. 

I’d like to think I’m a pretty good mom, too, because Mallory has sent out a request to her friends to help her mother’s Purse Drive out. Talk about being verklempt! I read her email and nearly fell over. Sometimes, we don’t even know how much we’re affecting our own children with our projects and activities. She came home from work last week (she’s a designer at an office space firm) and showed me this:

It occurred to me that she was designing purses and wanting to use scraps of leftover materials. She also wrote on the bottom “Home ec. class?” which makes me think she had a great idea for students to sew them (which is just an idea – I swear I’m not trying to make more work for the home economics teachers). This project is taking on a life of its own and I have friends in New York and Chicago and Houston who are collecting more purses for my school to donate. Hopefully, our boutique (the girls and I decided that “store” sounded less fun than “boutique”) will be open in two weeks.

Mostly, it inspired me to keep on thinking about this and dreaming big for my students. 

I admit: that’s a fantastic feeling.