Lost & Found

While in "Tar-zhay" yesterday, I stood in a side aisle to listen to a voicemail from my mom while Westley went looking for a special cord for our TV. When I hung up, I looked around and didn't see where he was.

I started walking down the main aisle when one of the salesmen asked me, "Can I help you find something?"

"Thanks," I responded, "but I'm actually looking for my husband."

Without missing a beat, he responded, "F1." Sure enough, that's where I found Westley.

Gotta love it.

99 vs. 1

Why is it human nature to take 99 good things in stride and fret over 1 negative thing?

A colleague and I presented a session recently to rave reviews. Several people from all stages in our common career- nearly 20% of those in attendance- came up afterwards to thank us personally for what we shared. I later received emails of gratitude which contained comments such as "FANTASTIC," "so informative," and "Your students are lucky to have you." I felt great about how we did; my goal had been for each person to take away at least one idea, and the affirmation we received from our peers seemed to confirm we met our goal.

Until.

I happened to see one scathing evaluation form because it was sitting out in the open. Stating that our session was "helpful only for beginning teachers," it accused us of having poor public speaking skills, and it specifically named me as coming across as an "awkward high school student."

Ouch. Really. Big. Ouch.

It's true that I look much younger than my years, even in a lovely tailored suit. It's also true that I was a little nervous at the beginning and that my opening segment could have been slightly more polished.

This one person's opinion basically attacked my biggest insecurities: that our collection of ideas wasn't really relevant or exciting (even though they've proven highly effective in our professional practice) and that our audience wouldn't take me seriously because I look young and inexperienced (even though my resume says otherwise).

Both of these accusations strongly contradict all of the feedback we received from other colleagues (including praise from one woman who has been in the field for nearly 50 years!).

Why is it that I'm having such a difficult time keeping all of this in perspective? Is it because my pride is hurt because this one person doesn't think I did a good job? Is it because my feelings are hurt because apparently not everyone liked me and because I'm perceiving this one comment as a personal attack? Is it because I'm fearing that my insecurities really are true and not just ridiculous bits of paranoia in my psyche? Maybe all of these things?

Wow. Writing this has been cathartic. Thinking through all that I've written today (and re-living how I felt when I first saw the review) is helping to give me a new perspective. One person's opinion is really not such a huge deal in the big picture. Overall, the majority of people responded very well to our session. While painful, the comment I read will help keep my inner diva (who very occasionally steps out on the stage in my mind) in check. I already knew that there are aspects of our presentation I'd want to improve if we are invited to share our session a third time in the future.

I was going to write that I should also keep in mind that there are plenty of people who do believe in me- not just those who responded well to our session, but rather people who've seen me in action. However, it's really not as relevant what others think, although I do so appreciate affirmation because it helps me believe in myself. The main thing to keep in mind is that I know I'm doing what I'm meant to be doing. Teaching really IS a calling, and I plan to continue for as long as it appears to be God's will for my life.

Changes

I was offered a new job. Two days after accepting it, we found a house and put in an offer immediately. Now that nearly 3 weeks have passed, my brain has started to make sense of the major changes I've put into motion.

The decision to accept the new job was not an easy one. Overall, I was blessed in my previous position. I had applied for the new position to see if the grass was greener on the other side. I don't know the answer to that, but I decided to take a chance. In the Bible, Paul writes, "Make the most of every opportunity," and another favorite quote (I don't remember the source) is "Opportunities multiply as they are seized." After much prayer, the choice to accept the offer felt .... right.

I regret that I wasn't able to say goodbye in person to the people who touched my life and/or my heart while I served in my previous position. Several colleagues responded to the group message I wrote. I also sent a note to a kind volunteer to ask if I could pass along her contact information to whomever is hired. Grateful for the chance to thank and say goodbye to her, I also expected that the news of my departure would be shared within the community.

I just heard from another parent today, asking if the rumor that I am leaving is true ... and saying she hoped it wasn't. I felt guilty as I read her message and composed my response. I believe God has guided the steps of my life and that I'm doing what I'm meant to be doing, but I will miss that school and community ... even as my excitement grows over my new position. I want my former students to remember me but I want them to love and respect their new teacher so that the success of the program continues. I've said my goodbyes and I need to back out of the way so that whoever is coming in doesn't experience what I did.

As a new teacher, I had students telling me into January that they wished my predecessor were still there. I remember thinking DURING my first concert in December that I should just quit my job because things weren't going as well as I expected they should. Part of me is nervous that I'll experience those negative aspects of my first year again as I step into a new position. I know I will hit the ground running and that this year will be tough as I adjust to a new school, new community, new and different courses, etc. However, I've worked intensely with this age group before ... and I'm hoping it won't take me long to overcome the learning curve!

Updates on the experiment

My vacation has officially begun. [Almost] 2 months of no school. We drove up to stay with Westley's parents on the very last day of school last week because his brother's family was visiting. We finally met our new nephew (4 months old). After a fun-filled 48 hours, we headed back so that I could attend a full day meeting. I've taken on a major volunteer role in my region so I'm now on the "Board" of a professional organization. I'm excited for my new role (although I wish it were paid), and I think it will be a great experience.

Although I'm slightly apprehensive about the time commitment, I feel strongly that NOW is the time in my career to be involved in this way - while I'm starting out. It is an excellent opportunity for learning and growth (and getting my name out there), and it will add a bit more meat to my resume. The other side is that even though I already go through phases in the year when I feel so overwhelmed and overworked, I really do have more time than I think I do ... and I certainly have more time now than I expect I'll have as a mother in a few years.

I started a new post a few weeks ago and almost finished it ... but ran out of time. To re-cap the other stuff in my life: I applied for two other jobs. Had two interviews at one in my area and was promised an interview at #2 "once they received my application." For #1, I was told not once, but twice, that I'd hear back "very soon." Nearly 4 weeks have passed since the second interview yet HR told me last week that no request had been submitted by administration to fill the position. I'm writing it off, even though I felt it had been promising, because the lengthy delay is a red flag ... and I think that if they really wanted me, it would have been offered. For #2, the promised interview never came. There wasn't even an acknowledgement of receipt of my materials. I've since learned from a colleague who got the job that the position really is not something I'd want anyway (more administrative duties, less actual time teaching). I'm glad for her although I wish I hadn't wasted hours of my life on the application.

Applying for these two other positions was an experiment to see if the grass really is greener on the other side; I'm in the best possible position for the age level I teach. With a strong tradition of excellence, a very supportive administration, and a great community, my program and my job are truly a blessing. Someday the grass may be greener elsewhere but right now it seems as though I'm meant to stay where I am ... and I'm content with that.

Seeking God's plan for me

I was 14 when I decided to become a music teacher. While I was sitting in my chorus class in high school, my teacher was working with one of the other voice sections. While sitting there, I remember thinking, "I could do that." When I share the story with others, I joke how egotistical that must sound. When the thought "I could do that" popped into my head, it wasn't so much that I knew I would be able to develop the skills I'd need but rather more of a realization that I had the interest and desire to pursue choral music as a vocation.

Like many college music ed students, I decided that I wanted to teach at the high school level. Many students enter the program with that feeling because that's the most recent experience they've had. For some, it was the quality or strength of their high school program that influenced their choice of what to study in college. For others, they simply wanted the challenge of being able to work with students on more complex music. There is so much more [good] music written for voices which are more developed, and it is challenging and time-consuming to sift through the available music to find quality pieces for less advanced groups.

Of the five interviews I had after grad school, only two were high school positions. I was not offered either job. Instead, I ended up at my current school - junior high - and I've grown to love this age group more than I ever imagined I would. I feel very strongly that this was God's will for me to serve where I've been for the past few years. For the most part, I'm blessed with great students from a supportive community. I have it better than many of my counterparts in that regard. This year marks the end of the first "generation" of students I've had; my oldest students have had me all three years at this school. Over time, the struggles I had as a new teacher have dissipated; the students know me and know how we do things in my classroom. They don't challenge or debate every little decision I make. They know I care about them all and they [usually] rise to the occasion and to the high standards I have. They don't exactly eat out of my hand like tame birds; they want so much to be independent. Well ... they want to feel like they can make choices and that they can be independent if they want to be, but they also want that nurturing and caring foundation to which they can return after they've stretched out their wings a little.

At the age level I teach, my position is much more about teaching than directing the ensemble. I teach and re-teach the basics: music literacy, music theory, performance standards, ear-training, healthy vocal technique ... and the list goes on and on. Each year, I have new students in every grade level who've never had any training before, and I re-teach the same information in as many ways as I can dream up. I create games or fun activities to teach the same concepts over and over and the kids who have me over multiple years haven't seemed to mind the constant review of material they've already learned. Even kids I've had for 3 years have struggled to retain some of the concepts we cover, so I see the validity in repeating so much of the content from year to year. It would be lovely, however, if the classes could be divided more by ability so that the kids who are really excelling could be challenged further. However, none of my requests to be involved with scheduling has ever been acknowledged. Because my classes don't have to pass a standardized test and because we have a third of the class time that the tested subjects have, I suppose my requests just aren't as important.

There are things that make me unhappy in my present situation, but overall, I'm content. I know I'm in a good place. However, that doesn't mean that I'm not looking for greener pastures. I still think I'd like to teach high school someday. I don't know if NOW is the time to move on, but I'm trusting that God will guide me to where He wants me to be. If He wants me to stay where I am, I know He'll show me. If He plans on moving me elsewhere, I'm sure He'll make that clear to me as well.

Two high school positions in my area have opened. I've applied for one and I plan on working on the application for the other today. Part of me feels extremely guilty and disloyal for even considering the thought of leaving my current school. When I talk to my kids about my plans for our choral program for the next school year, I feel like a part of me is being untruthful if I end up not being there. When my students have told me that their friends and/or younger siblings have signed up for my class for next year because they've raved all about me and the fun things we do, I feel guilty. When I took my choir to perform last week at an event after we were honored with an invitation, I thought, "How can I leave these kids?"

I shared my concerns with a friend/mentor to whom I confided my plans to apply for the two other positions. She acknowledged how I was feeling and lightly teased me for over-worrying.

"You don't have a decision to make yet. You don't have to know that you will accept a position before it's even offered to you. You don't have to consider all these things unless you do receive an offer. It sounds like you're seeking permission to try for these opportunities, and you should try because I know it's what you want to do. That way you won't feel guilty if the opportunity had passed you by and you had done nothing."

So ... I'm praying that God will make it clear. If I am presented with a choice, I pray that He will guide me to whichever choice is aligned with His will for my life. If I am not presented with a choice- if I don't receive an offer- then I will be able to feel at peace knowing that I tried and that I was simply meant to stay where I am.

Trends

The first wedding I attended of a peer was after my sophomore year of college. My [guy] friend was in the same year I was; he and his girlfriend just didn't want to wait any longer to get married. They said they knew they wanted to be together so they went ahead and got married.

After college graduation, there were a number of weddings ... BestFriend, my closest friend from high school, and two other couples from my alma mater. I learned about others getting married through Facebook (friends in college, barely acquaintances now), and Westley and I got married.

Now it's the sea of babies. More than half a dozen of my colleagues at school have given birth in the past two years. More baby pictures have popped up online ... pictures of former classmates and friends with whom I'm not in much contact other than Facebook. A friend from my childhood church, a mentor/friend I've known for a decade, and my closest friend from high school are all currently expecting.

While hanging out with a good teacher friend and her year old son at a school event a few weeks ago, I was asked more than once when I was going to have one of my own.

"I'm still a newlywed!" I protested. "I have plenty of time!" Westley and I are in no hurry ... I'm content to play with my friends' babies and hand them back to their mamas when they suddenly decide they're hungry or wet. I figure we'll consider having kids in a few years. Right now, I don't want that amount of responsibility. Thinking about being a mother sometimes makes me feel warm and fuzzy ... but more often, the thoughts are accompanied by a twinge of anxiety. I don't feel ready yet ... and I want to enjoy my time with Westley before I have to share him with little people! :)

New (temporary) job?

My parents still occasionally receive mail for me at their home, my permanent address until Westley and I were married. Last week, they received an official and unusual envelope for me.

"Estrella, we think you've gotten a notice for jury duty," they informed me.

"I don't understand how that could be," I replied. "I thought that was based on voting records, and I'm registered where I currently live, not at your address."

When Westley and I visited them for Easter yesterday, I was curious to see what was in store for me. Sure enough, the envelope contained a request for information so that I could be considered as a juror. It was addressed to me at my maiden name. I've now been married for well over a year, and my voting and driver's license information was changed more than a year ago too. Today, I called the voting records office near where my parents live; their records reflect the changes I had made, and the woman with whom I spoke indicated that the jury system may have found my name from an older list.

Because the information request simply directed me to make any changes to my name or address, I suppose it doesn't matter that their information is incorrect. I dutifully filled out the information request online ... and I am supposed to be called anytime within a year starting this June. I wonder what would have happened if my parents had moved and the mail couldn't have reached me?

As long as the summons doesn't interfere with 1) the crunch time before any of my performances or 2) my summer vacation, I don't mind serving. If, however, it majorly disrupts my plans, I will not be a happy camper. Apparently, however, there may be a perk ... my dad thinks that jurors get paid $25 each day they're called for duty. This is less than I make in one hour as a piano accompanist, but ... I guess it's better than nothing. It will be interesting to see how this pans out.

Hot Pink Dress

I don't know much about fashion. I am drawn to simplicity and what I see as "classic," rather than trendy. I'm awfully picky when it comes to clothing and often don't find things when I'm looking for them because it has to be just so. It has to fit exactly the right way, it has to be the right price, and if I'm not 100% convinced that it is for me, it goes back on the rack.

At Target a few years ago, I found a hot pink short-sleeved shirt dress with a matching (same color, same material) belt. I fell in love. Thinking back, this must have been Summer 2008 or earlier. The dress was deigned by (first name?) Mizrahi, a famous designer who collaborated (maybe still does?) with Target on affordable yet fashionable designs for women. When I put on the dress, I knew it was meant for me.

Reading The Secret Lives of Dresses this weekend (which I highly recommend!) made me think about what stories my own clothing would tell. This hot pink dress has some stories!

I remember wearing it in July 2008 on GradSchool's European choir tour. On one beautiful and HOT day in Trieste, Italy, I wore this dress. I remember walking around the gorgeous city, soaking in the sunshine. I remember visiting this tiny music-themed museum which was hosting a large exhibit on opera singer Maria Callas. A sweet, elderly Italian lady gave Westley and me a tour. She spoke no English, and my Italian consisted of "Non parliamo italiano" and the lyrics of the Italian arias I had studied. Somehow, we managed to communicate with gestures and facial expressions as she showed us the various instruments from the past.

At one point on that day, Westley and I decided to sit by the water ... and there's a picture of me taken that day that BestFriend says makes me "look like a movie star." My hair is twisted up into a bun held by a clip (because it was sweltering), and I'm wearing big sunglasses. My body is angled toward the water as I'm sitting on the stone steps which descend to the water, but my smiling face is turned toward the camera. Another goofier picture taken that day has me pretending to kiss a statue (and, of course, I no longer remember who the statue depicted).

I remember wearing the dress to one of the performances of my school musical in April 2009.

I remember wearing the dress to an event at the resort in Jamaica when my in-laws took us along with them on vacation in January 2010, right after Westley and I got married. They had a free trip after redeeming a certain number of points, and they simply redeemed more points to bring us along. My mother-in-law and I danced the night I wore the dress. Loud music was playing, and several of my favorite line dances were played (Cupid Shuffle, Cha-cha-slide, etc). Both she and I flew down to the dance floor and started dancing away. By the end of the dance party, I was sweating but exhilarated.

I wore the dress to one of the performances of the musical I was in last summer. I loved wearing my pretty clothing to the theatre before changing into my costume for the show.

The dress is now slightly faded after many washings and much love ... but I look forward to wearing it again when the weather is warm enough.

Luxury

Last week was a long week at work. Long hours every day. Exhaustion and frustration. This next week will be equally challenging, if not more so ... as some of the days will be even longer.

On Thursday, Westley told me he had a surprise planned ... a date for us on Saturday. We're mostly homebodies ... we don't eat out often (because he's a fabulous cook!), and we don't go out to fancy shows or events. We're saving to buy a house .... and we're also just naturally frugal, I suppose.

On Friday morning, I looked in the paper and saw that there was going to be a choral concert in the community, featuring a style of music we both enjoy. I expected that this was the surprise ... and while I would be happy to go, I was disappointed that I had inadvertently ruined the surprise.

Somewhere around hour 10 of the 13 hours I was at work on Friday, I called Westley to check in with him, hear about his day, etc. He asked if I was still excited for my surprise. I said yes, but that I also had a guess as to what it was. He nudged me until I shared my suspicion, and then he gleefully told me that my guess was not the date he'd planned. It was still a surprise. :)

On Saturday morning, I hemmed and hawed (how do you spell this?) about wanting to treat myself to a pedicure, a luxury I hadn't had since my sister was married in September. Why should I pay $30+ to do something I could easily do (and had been doing since September) for myself? Westley insisted I go ... so I relented. It was blissful ... sitting in an electronic massage chair, reading a wonderful book, and being pampered. I even stopped by a coffee shop on the way home to redeem a gift card (Christmas gift from a student) for a beloved chai latte.

A little later that afternoon, Westley announced it was time for our date. He'd hinted that it was "somewhat of a performance" that we were attending, and on the ride there, he confirmed my new suspicion that he was taking me to a movie. He asked if I'd guessed which movie but I honestly admitted that I had no idea what was playing. When I saw the list of titles on the marquis, I knew instantly! He bought us tickets for Jane Eyre because he knows it's my favorite novel. (The movie was hauntingly lovely, although the very end of the book- my favorite part- was not included.) After the movie, we spent a quiet and peaceful evening at home.

Today feels luxurious because the sun is shining (even though April's chill is lingering), the tree outside the window has these beautiful, deep pink buds which are thinking about opening, and because I made time to thoroughly scrub down our bathroom. I'm not the most organized of people, so I feel especially content when I've sorted through my stuff to get rid of items I no longer need and/or after I've cleaned. Normally, cleaning or take care of other chores are the type of activity I tend to put off while procrastinating. Westley loathes ironing, so I agreed to take on that chore when we got married ... and there was a green shirt of his which stayed at the bottom of the ironing pile for months (September through January? February?) because it took me that long to actually get through the [short] pile of items to be ironed. So ... when I've made an effort and the instant rewarding feeling comes flooding through me (Hurray! I've completed something and our place is slightly more organized!), I always wonder why it has taken me so long ... if I derive so much enjoyment from getting something done. (I was going to write something about "instant gratification" from completing a chore, but it's really not so instantaneous if it takes me such a long time to get it done!)

Luxury is getting a pretty pedicure in order to be ready for the lovely Spring weather. (Who cares if it's not yet warm enough? My toes are cute and I'll wear those open-toed kitten heels even if it is still in the 40s outside!)

Luxury is going on a date with my husband (and it's a bonus that the movie was based on my favorite book)!

Luxury is looking over the freshly scrubbed sink, toilet, sink, and mirror and thinking with a smile, "Good. That's finally done and BEAUTIFUL, and I'm hoping it will stay clean over the next 5 days until my in-laws come to visit!"

Luxury is finishing a wonderful novel, mourning its end, and enjoying the lingering grasp it has on your imagination.

Luxury is writing the third blog entry within a short time span after neglecting the blog for nearly a year ... and realizing that returning to writing is like visiting with an old friend. Time may have passed, but you can pick up where you left off and it feels like it's been no time at all.

Minor irritation

One of the things which annoys me is when a child does not turn in an assignment and then claims to his/her parent that they have. I dutifully check all of the potential places a child could have submitted an assignment (even though there is one designated place for each class). Then I respond to the parent stating that I have checked and re-checked (because the first time I check is when I've graded the rest of the class's assignment), and, alas, the assignment was not turned in. I usually have them ask their child to check his/her binder ... because usually that's where the assignment was all along. The parent, of course, does NOT apologize for making me do all the extra work of searching again when they should have asked their child to double-check in the first place.

What really irritates me, however, is when the parent simply assumes that if the child can't find the assignment that I must be lying when I say the child hasn't turned it in. (You know how "the customer is always right?" Sometimes it feels like the sales philosophy is taking over education ... "the student is always right," regardless of my years of experience, my professionalism, my education. I'm not saying I don't make mistakes or I'm never wrong ... but why are some people so quick to believe their [irresponsible] child over me?)

The icing on the cake is when the parents simply assume it's no trouble for me to then go out of my way to make extra photocopies of an assignment due weeks (sometimes months earlier) so that the child can make up the work. Yes, I want the child to be successful. No, I don't want his/her grade to be severely affected by his/her irresponsibility. However, REALLY? Of course there's no gratitude. It's just an expectation that I will do all the extra work to make one child happy. And you know how many of these issues come up within a few days of the grading deadline? More than I'd care to share.

Nearly a year

A year in review ... can't really sum up the past year in one post. I started blogging (elsewhere) in March 2001, and I'm feeling guilty that I basically stopped for one year before I reached a decade!

Anyway, enough whining about stopping ... and here's to a fresh beginning (after revisiting the past for a little) ...

Past year: Reached tenure, did the one-income deal for 8 months as newlyweds until Westley scored an amazing job, played piano often (church choir tour, local camp, district concert), performed in a show for the first time since college (ironically, in the last musical that I had performed in college too), etc. Loving married life. Marrying Westley = best decision I've ever made (unless you want to count going to GradSchool where I met Westley ...) :)

One of the most exciting things for me in this past year is that I'm making a name for myself. In my life, looking back, God always placed amazing opportunities in my path - opportunities that would further strengthen/develop my skills to help me become the person I am today. Myriad opportunities. So many opportunities that I simply decided to "try" for even though I had no real hope that such opportunities would come to fruition for me. Somehow, the majority of the opportunities did work out ... and have become part of my tapestry of experiences woven together.

Then there was a dry spell - also known as - the time period in which I began my first job, survived, and, well, began to excel. This year, people have started to notice. This is exciting! I was asked to co-present at a [semi-local] conference (out of the blue ... I hadn't applied ... I had only 2 years of experience ... How and why did they think of me?). Then my co-presenter and I decided to submit our materials for a [broader regional] conference ... and we've been accepted! We'll be revamping our materials for late this summer ... exciting! I was asked to take on a [semi-local] service opportunity in an administrative role. I had a wonderful time, I learned a great deal ... and there's talk of me taking on a more challenging position next year!

There have been many times where I've felt disheartened (an increase in people who question how I do my job - being vague on purpose here), overworked (with no raise since I was hired), and under-appreciated. (Our society doesn't value teachers as they once did, and the media is fueling the let's-get-those-overpaid-whiny-teachers frenzy which seems to be spreading around the country.) When I get in one of those sad little poor-me mindsets, I have difficulty compartmentalizing; I love what I do. I am what I do because I pour my heart, my energy, my being into what I do. It's not a job; it's my life.

Then I have to remind myself to reflect on the beauty in my life: the smiles and greetings I share with my students, the sweet little surprise gifts (I have a collage of hand-drawn illustrations which cover the large wall space above my desk in my room), and the wonderful moments when the music becomes magic and we're all within the embrace of the song.