Teaching and tears

I am a sap. I like to say I am emotional, but others might refer to me as a crybaby. My mom has some funny parenting stories about my sister and me. My sister is a solid rock when it comes to emotion and I can count on one hand the amount of times I have seen her cry. When we would get in trouble and we were spanked, she would grit her teeth, but she would never shed a tear. When my mom was angry at me, all she had to do was tell me she was disappointed and I was a ball of gooey mess whimpering at her feet. I cry at everything - really. I have seen the movie Steel Magnolias at least 20 times and I swear I cry like a baby every time the graveyard scene happens. I know Julia Roberts is going to die, I expect it and I know what is about to happen when Sally Fields is walking by the gravesite. Yet, there is something about pure emotion that gets to me every time. Talk about war, or someone's loss, the love of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, or fighting for one's honor - just get out the Kleenex box because I am a blubbering mess.

The tears come from emotion. I can't stand to see someone crying alone because I know they are hurting. There is raw emotion taking place and it just triggers my sympathetic tear ducts. Another way to trigger my emotions is to mention teaching. My job is important to me and yes, I am one of those teachers that owns the inspirational calendar that talks about the impact a teacher has. I have an apple on my desk and I love it that my Mom thought of me when she saw printed on the apple, "Teachers make a difference." Why the water works you ask? Because teaching is my JOB, teaching is my PURPOSE and as my Daddy always said, "there is no use doing something if you are only going to do it half ass!" My dad was never one to mix his words! :)

In order for a teacher to do their job well they MUST establish some type of student rapport. If the students trust you, then you can teach. If you can teach knowing they trust you, then they can learn. If they learn, you feel valued. If you feel valued, you work harder at becoming a better teacher....and the cycle continues.

Coming here to Korea, I have been a novice at pretty much everything. How does the subway system work? How can I get access to the school gym, how do I fill out a copy request form, and most importantly, how can I begin to get to know these 45 students that will be like my children over the next ten months? Not only am I sappy, but I am also impatient. When I want something to happen, I want it to occur YESTERDAY. Moving to Korea, I just wanted something to be familiar and I desperately wanted my students and I to have this outstanding connection right from the start. I wanted the student rapport to happen on day ONE.

Building rapport with students takes time. It takes time, energy, countless hours and attention to small details - details of a hormonal teenager.
So, over the past three months I have begun the task of diving into the world of a teenager. I have joked with them about their nicknames. I have celebrated successes in their writing and I have made them OWN their high test scores by strutting around the room like a peacock. I have congratulated them when they are running cross country. I have bandaged them when they cut their finger. I have asked them about their favorite instrument, their pet hedgehog and where they were born. I have given them animal crackers before or after a hard test. I have talked about their siblings and the new I Phone. We have swaped silly bands and I have consoled them when they are dealing with middle school drama. Slowly, but surely I have developed a connection with them.

Even though I have been teaching for six short years, I still get teary when it comes to students. Just the other day a student says to me, "Miss Skidmore, can I stay in your room for a bit?" I respond, "Sure, but why?" They say, "Because your room is warm and cozy and I like being here." Sniff, sniff. I let them in and smile to myself and then get out the Kleenex box. "Miss Skidmore, are you OK?" the student asked. "Yes," I replied, "just allergies."

I hope I NEVER outgrow my tear ducts!

Lost in translation

While living in Korea I have had a hard time with the language. I do not speak Korean other than the simple phrases like "Hi" or "thank you". When you are living in a big city and wanting to be independent, those two words don't get you very far. I have had some funny situations lately where either me or the person I was talking to left speechless or laughing hysterically.

Down on the farm -

One weekend some of my girlfriends and I decided to hit up the Drum Festival here in Seoul. It was a huge success complete with drum groups from Mexico, England and Korea showing off their thumping rhythm and loud costumes. We took the subway to the park, but it was late when the festival ended so we decided to take a taxi back to the school. This can be a bit troublesome if the taxi driver does not understand the accent of the WAY GOOKS (Korean for foreigners). When we all piled into the taxi we told him where we wanted to go. He looked at us and repeated the same thing we said. We respond with NEH (Yes, in Korean) and he starts laughing uncontrollably. This is not so unusual for me....I have been laughed at many times for my attempts speaking a foreign language. We look at each other and decide to try again. He repeats what we just said for the second time and starts driving. We assume he knows where he is going so we relax. Then he begins speaking in Korean and laughing out loud - cackling as a matter of fact. We start laughing as well and soon we are talking to him in English telling him we don't know why he is laughing. THEN, he starts clucking like a chicken! No lie, people! Believe me, this would be a hard story to fabricate! As he is making his clucking sound I say "CHICKEN" in English. He laughs again and then he starts to MEOW! At this point all of us girls are just howling with laughter because we think our taxi driver has gone mad! We then repeat in English the word "CAT" and we start meowing with more intensity. It went on like this a couple more times with him making a "MOO" sound and us supplying the appropriate label of a farm animal. He was so happy and just enjoying himself and I guess I got a little carried away. I decided to switch it up a bit and I made an animal noise and barked. I was in the back seat and I said, "WOOF!" All of the sudden complete silence. I looked at the taxi driver and said it again, "Woof." He looked back at me and looked straight ahead in complete silence. The girls in the taxi were loving this and were laughing so hard they almost wet themselves. I am intrigued as to why the animal loving taxi driver is not responding to my dog calls. I try again for the third time and I bark in the back seat. The taxi driver then turns and gives me a dirty look! We drive with him not saying anything until he dropped us off at our destination. We pile out of the car and he said goodbye with a sheep salutation, "Baaaaaaah" - we rolled out of the taxi with our sides in stitches! Best taxi ride to date!

Blonde Ding Dong -

Since I have Korean on the mind and I am consciously trying to remember how to say things in Korean rather than letting my Spanish take over, I often times get confused and switch back and forth from English/Spanish and the occasional Korean. At church, I am talking to some girls in my small group. We are discussing what it is like being new to Korea and they were asking me where I live. I told them I live on campus at Seoul Foreign School and I said I live in Yonhi Dong. For those of you non-native Koreans "dong" means neighborhood. I had a good time with this when I first arrived because I live in D buidling on campus and it is commonly known as D dong. So, my friends at home have affectionately called me a Ding Dong! Not nice, but somewhat humorous.

Anyhow, we are talking at church and this guy comes up and joins our conversation. We start talking about where we live and he turns to me and asks my location. I tell him about my neighborhood and then without thinking I say, "Where is your dong?"

There was silence for about 10 full seconds and I contemplated running away to the nearest exit.....then all of us burst out laughing - including the guy whom I asked about his dong.

I think I will still show up to church next Sunday, but I plan on sitting in a different place, maybe I won't see him again EVER!

Moon cakes and Hong Kong

It has been a while since my last blog entry and my only excuse is that life happens. We get busy and we find other things to fill our time. For me, it has been vacation time followed by "catch up" time followed by more "catch up" time.

When I arrived at SFS I knew there was a one week holiday that would be quickly approaching in September. The holiday is called Chuseok and it is Korean for "great middle". It is a three day holiday that occured (this year) on a Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. It is held during autumn and is a celebration of the good harvest. Traditionally, Koreans visit their homeland, pay respect to the spirit of their ancestors and partake in traditional Korean food. I was excited to learn about this holiday, but a little bummed when I found out I would not be celebrating Chuseok in Korea. Instead my school decided to send me to a professional development conference in southern China. The conference was taking place over the weekend and then we had the rest of the week free; so my friend and I decided to take advantage of this travel opportunity and head to Hong Kong.

In China they have a very similar holiday called the Harvest moon and in short, it is similar to a Western Thanksgiving, but with MOON CAKES. When I think of Thanksgiving there is the sweet aroma of freshly carved turkey, my mouth is watering from the smell of apple pie and my ears tingle when I hear the mixer battering the potatoes to make the fluffy, heavenly goodness called MOM'S MASHED POTATOES. There are freshly baked rolls, honey-glazed ham, sweet potato casserole and there is even a seven layer salad, which in my mind is just silly to serve at Thanksgiving...who has time to waste on lettuce and peas and other things that are good for you? The one thing that does NOT exist at my Thanksgiving celebration is fruit cake. You know what I am talking about, that gift that weighs about 35 pounds and is only given as a Christmas gift to those "friends" that really are not your friends. It tastes dry and has food items in there that should never go together in any normal kitchen. Well, in China for the Harvest moon festival, my friend I found moon cakes. Don't let the outside appearance fool you....Yes, she looks more attractive than a fruit cake, but just take a gander at the ingredients that go into this puppy.

•Filling:
•1 pound red azuki beans
•water
•3/4 cup lard or oil
•1-3/4 cups sugar
•Water-Shortening Dough:
•2 cups flour
•5 tablespoons lard
•10 tablespoons water
•1/4 teaspoon salt
•Flaky Dough:
•1 cup flour
•5 tablespoons lard
•red food coloring for design

Do you notice that the word LARD is used THREE times in this receipe? And the only other substantial ingredient is BEANS. The picture above is a special moon cake and has an EGG YOLK directly in the center. Yummy!

Even though we were not impressed with the moon cakes, the rest of the trip deemed to be a great adventure. Hong Kong is a massive city and is actually located on an island. We were lucky enough to be flying to Hong Kong at the exact same time as a typhoon. Deperate to not let the rain and torrential downpour damper our moods we set out on the Kowloon side and began to make our contribution to the Hong Kong economy. We were pampered with foot massages, we had some traditional Chinese food and we ate in restaurants that seemed, for all other purposes, to be a wedding reception. We visited the dragon festival, we toured the city and checked out the nightlife and we got massages. One one particular rainy day we decided to get a full body massage. We made up our mind where we wanted to go and walked into a cute little building that was hidden on the third floor along the second wall in the fifth cubicle of the 203rd building on that street. Hong Kong is known for its efficiency and the amount of businesses they can fit is one area is impressive. We walk up the skinny stairs and notice a sign that says, "No sex, please." Well, at least they are polite. :)

We are ready for our pampering and are shown our room and we notice a small area that is no bigger than my kitchen in Korea. We exchange glances with each other wondering how we are both going to fit in there along with the women that will be working on us. We decide to give it a shot - it is an adventure after all. Once inside I ask Rebecca if she is going to leave on her skivies or just strip down - it really is different in all countries so I wanted to know what to do. She said she was going to stay in her bare essentials so I decided to do the same. I was changing into my robe and I noticed a tiny piece of cloth with elastic. I looked at it and said, "Look Rebecca, they gave us something to use so we can hold our hair back." I have the cloth thingy over my head with the elastic behind my ears. She turns around and starts laughing histerically. She holds up her version of tiny cloth-elastic thingy and I notice it looks an awful lot like a thong. The lightbulb finally goes off and I quickly rip the thong-headband off my head and away from my face just in time for the ladies to come in and give us our massage. I think they were giggling and I am pretty sure I saw one of them shake their head, but I can't be sure because I tucked my head down on the table and dreamed away all my cultural faux pas. Oh Hong Kong, good memories!

Raisins and Giggles - in memory of my brother Jake

It was Labor Day in Indiana and the entire family was at our house...My grandma and grandpa were in the living room talking about the apples that were growing in their front yard, my aunt and uncle were in the dining room talking to my dad about the latest car he was trying to restore, and I was in the kitchen with my mom because I was starving and the mashed potatoes smelled heavenly. My sister and my brother were out riding their bikes trying to get all their restless energy out before lunch - then the phone rang....

I was the closest one to the phone so I answered instinctively as any teenage girl would do. My sister was on the other end in hysterics. "Jake has been hit by a car.." was all she kept repeating. "What?" My mind was racing, "Tara, calm down," was my response and then I saw my mom drop what she was doing in the kitchen and run out of the house - it was as if there was this maternal instinct and my mom KNEW something was wrong.

Today is September 7th, 2010. Twenty - three years ago today my younger brother Jake was killed in a drunk driving accident. I was 14 years old, my younger sister was 11, Troy was 4 months old and Jake was only 9. He was riding his bike with my sister and two other neighbor kids and he was hit and killed instantly. The driver had a blood alchohol level of twice the legal limit. That day is forever etched into my memory and the memory of my family.

Usually on this day I am surrounded by my family and friends. We sometimes will speak of the incident that changed our lives, but even if we don't, we are there for each other. Today, as I am millions of miles away from my family, at a new school, in a new city, I find myself wanting to reflect and wanting to REMEMBER him.

Jake was a vibrant, blonde-haired, blue eyed boy who would smile by placing his tongue on his upper teeth. Jake loved to eat raisins - they were a part of almost every meal that he had. There was a special drawer at my grandma and granpa's house that was designated just for Jake's raisins - for as far back as I can remember - I never saw that drawer empty. Jake also did not have a laugh, Jake only giggled. It wasn't a girlish giggle, it was this sound that came from pure and unadultered happiness.

Jake was this ray of sunshine that only wanted to fish with my dad, cuddle with my mom and play softball or basketball with his older sisters.

Jake loved to go camping and when we were younger we owned a trailer that we would pack up and haul to the nearest campsite. For an entrie weekend we would hike on trails, make smores by the campfire and sleep under the stars in our sleeping bags. Jake loved it so much that there were times that he wanted to go camping, but it was a Tuesday and my mom would explain that we can't go camping in the middle of the week. One time, on a school night, my mom set up our little pup tent in the back yard and Jake, my sister and I packed some cookies, a flashlight and our pillows and relished our little adventure. We had all of the ambiance of camping, but we also knew that mom and dad were inside the house only four feet away. :)

Many times over the past 23 years I have asked God, "WHY?" WHY was his life cut short, WHY was I not able to have more time with him, WHY did it destroy my family as much as it did, WHY him, not me, WHY does it still hurt? Even after all this time, there is no answer. I can question, I can live in the land of "what if.." and I can be angry at God for this tragedy that happened to my family....OR, I can understand that I DON'T have all the answers NOR do I have to have all the answers. I know that God does not give us more than we can handle and even though there were times that I was convinced that I couldn't handle this loss, God knew better.

People grieve in different ways - Most of my family does not talk about Jake and the life that we had with him for those short years, but I am different...

I love to talk about my younger brother, I love to remember funny times or the nights spent camping in the back yard, I love to write about my brother and talk to my friends about the way he was curious or the way he adored my father and mother. My grief is best spent by remembering my brother through words, thoughts and writing - this will never change. So, the next time you are around me during the month of September, please ask about my brother...and then sit with me and grab a cup of coffee because I can talk about him for hours.

Insanity and Community

INSANITY - Webster defines insanity as 1)a deranged state of mind usually occurring as a specific disorder, 2)such unsoundness of mind or lack of understanding that prevents one from having the mental capacity required by law to enter into a particular relationship, status or transaction, 3)something utterly foolish or unreasonable. I have to say that I really like number three - simple and to the point - Insanity is foolish and unreasonable behavior!

I have been getting up at 5:30am six days a week to WILLINGLY participate in an exercise program that is called INSANITY. It is a 60 day commitment or ten weeks including Saturday mornings. The gorgeous, buff man that leads the INSANITY videos is Sean T and his six pack makes that stupid loudmouth from Jersey Shore look like a SCHMUCK! Sean T believes in this thing called MAX INTERVAL TRAINING - lots of cardio and strength training for LONG periods of time with 20 second breaks in between workouts - I think MAX INTERVAL TRAINING is a professional way of saying - this workout will HURT LIKE HELL! :) The previous workout videos in my library include the Billy Blanks 15 minute "novice beginner version" of kickboxing, and the YOGA stress relieving video where the instructor is sitting on a beach and peaceful wind chimes are playing in the background! Let me just say that this INSANITY video is a bit different than those! :)

Even though at 5:30am I am cursing and sleep walking wondering WHY I do this to myself, I have to admit that I am becoming insane enough to enjoy this insanity. Believe it or not, I am not alone in my unreasonable journey! There are anywhere from 10 - 15 other staff members that meet me in the gym to sweat and grunt and moan and groan. It really is true that there is camaraderie in suffering. We are pushing ourselves, we are exercising in a pool of our own sweat, but we are doing it together! We barely speak during the workout because we are all struggling to breathe, but we go around and give every single person a TIRED, but meaningful high five when we are finished with the workout. There is accountability with each other (or maybe it is just guilt) when we send an email to our group apologizing for missing a session. We see each other on campus and give the hard core ROCK ON symbol and then say, "See you tomorrow at INSANITY!" We have a community. It might be a community that is a little off their rocker, but it is OUR community. :)

We all have our reasons for doing these INSANITY videos. Most of us are doing it to lose weight and get those amazing abs, but there are other reasons as well. I want to develop a habit of getting up early in the morning. I want to be more disciplined and if I can get up at 5:30am to go and inflict personal pain on myself, then SURELY I can be disciplined enough to memorize that bible verse that I keep putting off or making excuses for. It is said that it takes 21 days to form a habit, well, by the end of my INSANITY tour not only will I look good, I will have formed these habits three times over! :)

You don't have to join INSANITY to have community, but you do have to have SOME FORM of community to be SANE!

It's all about the journey

Hills - they are everywhere....you just can't get away from them here at Seoul Foreign School. Well, you know what they say, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!" That is exactly what I decided to do this past Saturday afternoon.

I am very blessed to have a gorgeous mountain right behind our school. We hiked up this mountain one morning during orientation at an UNGODLY hour and like I do every morning I am up at that hour, I walk in my sleep. So, as we were hiking together I wasn't really paying attention. Some would even argue that I am directionally challenged anyway so it wouldn't matter if I HAD paid attention and after this weekend, I just might have to concur.

It started off great. The woods and the beginning path is very close to the school, so I at least knew where to start. Along the trail there were a couple of times that I stood scratching my head wondering which direction I should be going, but after some trail and error I realized that I ended up arriving at the same spot on top of the mountain no matter which path I chose. I took some pictures of the skyline and obtained proof that I had hiked that mountain for a second time.

The way down is always a breeze so I turned up my tunes in my Ipod a little louder and just started trekking. I didn't even worry about which way to descend the mountain, because like before, I figured that it didn't matter which path I took, I would still pretty much arrive at the same place. Soo, I am just humming and hiking, treading and trampling, stepping and striding, when all of the sudden I come to the end of the path. All would have been fine, except I am smack dab in the middle of the city, or at least I THINK I am! I look to my right for some sort of familiarity and I see a Welcome Center. Large menacing building that says SEOUL on the outside. Because I wanted to save face and not admit that I am lost, I walk past the "not-so-welcome" set of walls thinking I will start to recognize some landmarks soon. I mean honestly, how far off campus can I be? As I head down another hill I see businesses and houses clamoring for space on the crowded street. I pass an elderly man outside of his store and I nod respectively hoping he can't smell my fear or my misguided sense of direction. I walk as if I know where I am going, my head is high and I say to myself, I am NOT lost. Walking further I still do not recognize anything. I am now getting into the MIDDLE of the city. I see a busy intersection ahead and a plethora of tall buildings. I decide to mingle with the city folk and I ask a kind man, "Yonsei University?" and I point with one hand to the right. He says something completely unintelligible to me and nods his head. Well, I MUST be heading in the right direction, I mean his nod was at least friendly. Walking further down the hill I am now in the HEART of Seoul. I see taxis whizzing by and there are a ton of people out and about....walking...in the city....The only difference between them and me, I was LOST! I am starting to panic just a tad as I am rehearsing my Korean phrases that I have tried to commit to memory. Mind you, I have nothing on me except a backpack filled with water, my Ipod and the keys to my apartment. No WON (Korean money) to get a taxi home and no bus card (which I have found is helpful to have on you AT ALL TIMES)! So, I continue my pace looking for any friendly Korean face that is begging to answer me in English. I pass two college age girls and ask them, "Yon-hi Dong, Yonsei University?" She replies in English, "I am not sure where that is but there is a University over there" and points about two blocks away. I thank them profusely and continue on my way. I begin to hum again and even chuckle at myself for ever thinking I was lost - I wasn't lost, I was just getting more exercise! I come up to the University and my brow furrows as I realize that I don't recognize any of those buildings either. I have walked and ran around Yonsei University a few times so I am becoming more and more familiar with the campus. I inch closer and look at a sign that says, EWHA WOMEN'S UNIVERSITY. What? That can't be right! Panic sets in again and I feel the sweat dripping down my back. I take a couple of deep breaths and count to ten as my relaxation tapes would suggest and then I REALLY START TO FREAK OUT! I am LOST, full on LOST and I have NO IDEA where I am! My mind is starting to play tricks on me and I think it is getting darker out, soon to be pitch black, and I may even be lost walking around in the city at NIGHT! I spot a police officer near a stoplight and I don't even care that he is directing traffic at a busy intersection, this is an emergency and I need HELP. I walk up to him on the verge of tears and I hike up my "big girl" britches and I say, "Yonsei University?" Blank look, no response. I say it again slower and louder, "YON...SEI....UNI...VER...SI....TY?" He then replies as if he is annoyed, "Yonsei is near Severance Hospital, and...." I raise my hands up exuberantly and I say, "Severance Hospital? I KNOW THAT PLACE!" I have a big smile on my face as he explains the location is a couple of blocks down to my right. I almost kiss the man and then realize all those culture taboos and decide instead to bow and say, "Kam-sa-nida (thank you in Korean)" I skip away down the streets once again, head held high, smile on my face and grateful that I was FOUND.

Over the weekend I started to think about this experience in relationship to life. It really is ALL about the journey. I am sure there are many others out there that have gotten LOST geographically and maybe even LOST soul-fully. Getting LOST is a part of life. It is a crappy part of life, but it still exists. I am a firm believer in life lessons for every situation. I love to write/blog about the happenings of my middle school students because I believe that even though those TWEEN years are tumultuous, turbulent, muddled, topsy-turvy, mixed-up and messed up, there are life lessons to be learned. So, again, it IS all about the journey. Whether that journey is your next job, dealing with a sick child, learning to master chopsticks (my most recent journey) or even finding your wandering soul, remember it is a process, you WILL get lost. Along the journey, don't be afraid to talk to others, share your experiences, your pain, your joy. You might not understand what others are saying, but keep trying. When you feel you are really lost, remember to breathe deep and count to ten....if that doesn't work, FREAK OUT and CRY (has always been helpful for me)! We might get lost on our way to our destination, but PRESS ON my friend for the journey might be long, but the rewards of being FOUND and coming home leave you with your hands in the air shouting at police officers and wanting to plant kisses on total strangers!

Thighs of steel

I have been living as a contented soul in Seoul for the past ten days. I am getting adjusted to my new culture, my new school, my new co-workers and the new HILLS - very soon my pants are going to start to fit a little tighter in the upper leg region because I am developing thighs of steel!

I moved into my new surroundings with a surprisingly seamless transition. The flight was long, but the customs process was painless and efficient. As I entered Incheon airport, my colleagues from Seoul Foreign School stood ready to greet and assist me. I unloaded my luggage and met native English speakers and was transported to my new school in a shiny, black HUMMER! SO FAR SO GOOD!

I arrived on campus and was introduced to my FREE apartment and quickly learned that my new digs were more than enough for one single girl. Snooping through my pad, I opened my refrigerator to see milk, cheese, bread and a small package with Korean symbols that resembled yogurt. It is the summer months so the weather is a bit hot and sticky. My first night in Seoul, South Korea was spent unpacking, showering and falling asleep to the sweet sounds of air conditioning!

This school is LEGIT - the Human Resources takes care of each new teacher by providing our bonus money on the second day of school. For the first week we are provided breakfast, lunch and dinner and even given the option to participate in group wide trips to Home Plus (Target equivalent) and COSTCO! Our weekend entertainment consisted of a tour of the subway and a trip to a Korean dance festival in which we could pay $5 to dress in traditional Korean costumes (see photo above)!

There is something to be said for a school that has an AVERAGE teacher stay equal to almost five years. It is impressive when a school boasts about the sabattical option for teachers or the 50% tuition reimbursement. It is shocking to be granted a brand new MAC book PRO laptop and given the option to buy a IPhone where the school will take care of all the red tape. There is a great sigh of relief when you are employed by a school that designs their programs/curriculum and health care with ALL teachers in mind! I have a tax free salary, I have health benefits, I have a savings account, I have a retirement, I have FREE housing, I have a food allowance, utilities allowance, professional development funds, and fifteen personal days. I am surrounded by a community of hard working, faith building, professionals! I have arrived.

I have arrived in more than one sense of the word. I have physically arrived in Seoul, South Korea. My body is aching from the LARGE hills that I have to climb in order to reach the city. I am exhausted with meetings and anxious for the school year to begin. I have arrived in a culture that is foreign to this foreigner, yet, I sit at my desk content. My thighs ache, but my soul is at ease - I have arrived! I have finally arrived!

Generational gladness

Generations: the process of coming into being and bringing another into being, the span of time between the birth of parents and their offspring, a line of descendents.
I have been fortunate enough to have both sets of grandparents alive when I was 30 years old. I lost my grandpa (my dad's father) about five years ago, and then we lost my grandma (my dad's mother) last summer. I was able to spend a lot of time with my Dad's parents since they always lived in Indiana. I miss them greatly and have so many fond memories of them. My mom's parents are still alive and living in Texas. They have always lived in Texas while I grew up so I was not able to have as much time with them. My granny (mom's mother) and I have something very special in common. I was born on my granny's 40th birthday. My mom was very young when she had me which meant that my granny became a GRANDMOTHER much sooner than she maybe would have wanted. She told me a story about the day of my birth and said that the doctor came to see her after I was born and said, "Are you having a good birthday?" She said, "Not really, I became 40 and a grandmother all in the same day!" :)
Since I have not been able to spend much time with my Texas relatives, I decided to spend my birthday with my Granny this summer. It was a big event as my mom, my step-dad, my oldest niece and I crammed into a car to drive to Abilene, Texas. It was a 13 hour car ride and we made the most of it with the portable DVD player, books, funny car games and switching drivers to make it easier.
We spent time with my brother and his wife at a Rangers baseball game topped with 4th of July fireworks and we enjoyed some Texas BBQing with my cousin and her family.
The actual day of my birthday my Granny made me some homemade biscuits (my only request from her for my birthday), I beat my Grandad at a game of dominoes and we had a grand time telling old family stories.
It was so interesting watching my family and the different generations. One night we were all gathered around the living room telling tales. Lexy (my oldest niece who is 15 going on 21) is sitting beside me on the couch with her phone blowing up every 2 seconds from a new text. Her fingers are flying at the speed of light as she texts back and then lifts her head up to try to engage in the conversation. I roll my eyes and listen to the stories of my Grandad being obnoxious and I check my much less expensive phone to see if anyone has sent me a text, NOPE. I look over at my mom who is laughing and crying at the same time from the stories she is hearing about her Daddy. She makes a comment about how stubborn he was and how she is glad she never inherited that bullish attitude. We all laugh together because we know HER and we know BETTER! My granny is sitting next to my grandad just listening to him talk - she has probably heard this story 100 times yet she listens with the intensity like it is the first time. Grandad, who loves to be the center of attention, will look over at Granny every once in a while just to see if she is paying attention. He loves to talk, but he really is concerned with whether or not SHE is his audience.
There is a difference in the generations. The current generation is bombarded with the newest and the greatest technology. Anything to keep you pushing buttons and looking at a screen is the NEW form of communication. My generation is still addicted to technology, but there is that value in relationships and meeting others for coffee, face to face interaction. My mom's generation TRIES to use the technology, but most of their time and energy is spent on reading manuals and asking the kids how to use things. Her generation thrives on relationships and story telling. She remembers playing in the yard for hours and NOT getting bored. She remembers the value of a dollar and what strong morals can do to a family. My granny's generation is the one that I think we can learn the most from. Her generation knows technology exists, but doesn't have time, energy or patience to invest in a machine. Granny tells stories of hard work and true love at the age of 16. She shows me pictures of her and my grandad where the love they share is so evident it practically jumps off the page. I laugh as I see almost every picture has PDA (public displays of affection)! He is constantly holding her hand, or has his hand around her waist or draped over her shoulder. He was crazy about her back then and it is still evident as they are about to celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary. Granny sits patiently next to her husband of 60 years. She smiles when he talks, she talks when she needs to and she lives her life devoted to God and to taking care of her husband and her family. I look around the room at the offpring of her and Grandad's hard work and love. I am PROUD to be part of THIS generation, but I am more proud to be a part of the Dozier/Skidmore family!

There's no place like home

Dorothy got it right as she was clicking those ruby red slippers chanting about her home sweet home in Kansas. There really is no place like it and I have to say that living overseas has helped this thought to become a reality.
I don't really have a HOME anymore. I am a vagrant traveler and I love the adventures I have been on over the past three years. I have a place of residence, but I really don't have a home. I have resided in Bolivia and am now an expat living in Seoul, South Korea. Even though I do not have four walls and a roof to call my own, every summer I have a strong yearning to be back in Indiana and spend time with my family and friends. The house where my parents now live is not the same house where I grew up, yet it is the summer memory maker, therefore it represents HOME to me.
I get to spend anywhere from four to six weeks at home every summer. For the past three years there are a few dates that I consistently circle on my calendar, the date when school starts, the date when school ENDS and the date in which I fly back HOME for the summer. When I arrive home (no matter how early or how late my flight arrives) my mom is always there to greet me. Pulling into the drive (usually at an ungodly hour) I notice the light on in the spare bedroom - the light illuminates from the room and I can see the oversized pillows and the cozy comforter from the street. I let out a big sigh and said, "It is so good to be home".
There is a comfort when you are in a place that you know is not your own, but you feel the freedom to raid the refrigerator or lay on the couch and curl up with a blanket. I have friends that have these inviting houses - I know I do not live there, but I have a soothing spirit cover me like a blanket and I know it is a safe haven, a peaceful resort, my hide away.
After a school year, most teachers know that our batteries are running pretty low by the time June rolls around. My family also is aware of this concept and whenever I arrive in Indiana, it is as if my family can see the blinking red light on my human batteries showing that the charge is almost empty. After a couple of home cooked meals, some time out walking in the sunshine and some family games, the battery light starts to read a little stronger. With some coffee and conversations with old friends, my human meter starts to flash RECHARGING. By the end of the summer after many family photos, softball games, pool parties and good ol' fashioned BBQ's - my battery is fully charged!
HOME is much more than a place where we lay our head at night or wake up to the smell of coffee brewing. HOME is a place where family and friends are together, HOME is a place where you feel comfortable just being yourself, HOME is a place where love and laughter abound.
Man, it is good to be HOME!

The adventure continues

Well, I guess it is official!

No more editing my resume and typing new cover letters. No more letters of recommendation. No more checking TIE online for job openings. No asking friends if they have friends who might have friends that are in education.

It is official.

I am off the market.

I found a great Christian school that I was interested in way back in November (that is pretty early to begin thinking about jobs for the next school year). I loved the mission and philosophy of the school, I loved the direction they were heading professionally and I loved the change of scenery/culture that would take place for me if I accepted a job at that school. I contacted the HR department and sent everything I could think of to try to make me look different than the 300 candidates that would come across their desk. Then the HR deparment contacted me and asked for a personal mission statement and my personal statement of faith. It took me some time to figure out what my personal mission for my life really is. What do I want for my life professionally and what have I seen in my life spiritually? It was therapuatic to have to sit and reflect on the things that are important to me.

#1 - I want to impact others - I became an educator for the sole purpose of impacting the world. Why wouldn't I want to be in a profession that can be such a catalyst for young kids and know that I have a unique role to play? - What an honor - tons of responsibility too, but I am always up for a challenge.
#2 - I want to be in an environment that is postive and supportive. I want to work for a school that has pillars of morality and is not afraid to teach morality to kids, teachers, parents and administrators.
#3 - I want to know that I am doing what God wants me to do. I was created with a purpose. I have met too many people in life that are stumbling around not really sure what they are doing or why they are even here - I don't want to be a wanderer anymore. I am convinced that I have the God-given talents to use in the classroom and on any sports field - I want to use those gifts and talents and I want to use them well!

So, on a fateful day while I was vacationing in Brazil - I had my third interview with the school. They expressed that they were interested in me and they didn't want to wait until I got back to Bolivia make their decision. They felt that I was a good fit for the school, just as I had felt peace about possibly coming to the school. They offered me the job while I was in a noisy internet cafe around 12:30am Brazil time (about 8:30am in Korea). Looking around me, the young teenagers were noisy and playing their video games. People were speaking in Portugese as they were talking to their friends on Skype. Yet, with all the distractions, with all the noise, I felt a peace and calmness as they offered me the job in Seoul, Korea.
I will be teaching 7th grade English and Social Studies. I will be living in an apartment that is paid for by the school. I will have retirement, health, dental and vision. I will be coaching volleyball and be involved in a discipleship program. I will be living and working among the Korean people.

So, for me the adventure continues. I have had an amazing time teaching overseas and traveling though South America. My eyes have seen things I would never have imagined and my body and soul are changed because of my time in Bolivia. But again, it is not over for me. I am Korea bound.
So if you need a place to stay while passing through South Korea, give me a call - I can be your tour guide - for cheap!

http://www.sfs.or.kr/

Online godess

My goal at the beginning of 2009 was to finish the first part of my Certificate of Advanced Graduate Studies - that really is a fancy title for saying that I have taken some leadership classes that will help me later when I want to pursue a job as an Athletic Director. I was nervous because this was my first attempt at online classes. I was nervous for various reasons - At the beginning of 2009 I was traveling with some friends through Argentina. To begin my classes I was going to have to find an Internet cafe and communicate via Skype and rely on spotty Internet access. I was also nervous because I really truly hate school. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't hate LEARNING, I hate school. I hate the act of sitting down at a computer and reading through my classmates comments and then trying to find something that I can contribute - something witty, something worthwhile, something that does not convince them that I have no interest at all in what they are saying.

My online classes would last about 8 weeks a session. I would need to communicate with my classmates and professor every week and then complete 2 - 3 assignments every week. All of this was happening at the same time that I was teaching full time, coaching volleyball, attending my kickboxing and Pilate's class, grading papers and volunteering at my favorite orphanage! No problem, right?!?!

Well, I had started my classes in Buenos Aires, Argentina, I continued to take my classes online while living in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. I went home for the summer and so completed one of my leadership classes in Lafayette, Indiana and then my final class had an assignment due just as I was landing in Rio de Janiero, Brazil. I went to another Internet cafe with spotty internet access and chuckled to myself as I submitted my final paper. Nothing like online classes while traveling to 4 different countries and 2 continents! Cheers to online learning!

New Year Resolutions

One of my resolutions every year is to write more. I love to write, putting words on paper or typing them on the computer is therapy for me. My goal when I graduated college was to finally get some of my writing published. I have been told by others that I have a gift for prose. So, why is it a resolution for me EVERY YEAR?

Because life happens.

Work is overloaded, bosses are overdemanding, parents are overbearing, I feel overwhelmed and I am becoming over the hill!

Life gets in the way, that is true of anyone. There are too many lesson plans to create and not enough time. There are too many papers to grade and not enough ink in my pen. There are too many students with problems and I am only one teacher. It is too difficult to continue to exercise and not risk becoming mundane. It is too challenging to go to church every Sunday when it is my only day to sleep in. But - these are all excuses. And one of my other New Years Resolutions is to stop making excuses.

So, my reoccuring New Years Resolution for 2010 is to write more - on my new blog!

I would love for you to read it and check out what is going on with me. I am a Midwestern girl who is living in Bolivia. I love teaching internationally and I love to travel. My life has been filled with some crazy stories and I have documented many, but not all. I would love to read your comments and have us enter into conversations about life, but no offense...this blog isn't necessarily for you. It is for me. It is so I can FINALLY acheive one of my numerous New Years Resolution. It is my therapy, it is my cyber - voice, it is my healing for my soul.

Who is SweetThunder 413?

One of my fondest memories from childhood involves watching mom pack my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches into a brown paper bag. After the lunch was taken care of I would grimace as she lathered me up with sunscreen and placed a silly hat on my head to wear during the day. We would hop into the blue van and I was giddy with anticipation as I was transported to DAY CAMP! It was a glorious thing every summer when my mom would announce that me and my brother and sister had been signed up for YMCA day camp.

There was freedom in those hot summer days where I discovered how to prepare bait for fishing in the Wildcat River. I remember how my arm would shake furiously as I would try to hit the bulls eye with my bow and arrow. I imagined myself sailing the high seas as I was the commander of my little canoe where I would bark orders with my oars at hand. It was during day camp that I realized that I was allergic to horses. After my very first encounter with horseback riding I was sent to the clinic because my eyes swelled shut and my body was covered with welts. It was at day camp where I was able to foster independence as I had to make friends on my own , I developed my social skills by overcoming my shyness and talking to cute boys and I was able to gain my very first Indian Name!

During day camp we were assigned to tribes and all the tribes had camp counselors. We would play games with each other, learn new skills, eat lunch with our new BFF´s and then we would gather by the campfire to inherit our Indian name. It was a big deal, almost like a rite of passage and it only happened on the very first day of camp. I felt my knees knocking as the camp counselor called the kids one by one to the front of the fiery pit. One of the blonde hair boys was called BEACH BLONDIE. Not very creative, but it fit him since he actually lived on the beaches of California and only visited Indiana during the summer (seems a bit backwards to me now, but at the time I was not one to judge). Another girl inherited the Indian name FRECKLED DULCE. Her entire body was covered in freckles, and she was from Mexico so Spanish was her native tongue and she knew that the word DULCE meant "sweet". Next it was my turn. I could hear my heart about to pound out of my chest. What was my name going to be? How was this going to shape my identity? The counselor called me toward the front, I wobbled to the center stage and he said, "From now you you will be called Sweet Thunder! Misty, the reason why I chose this name for you is that it is evident that you have a big heart for others. You are sweet, but at the same time, you are one of the loudest campers I have - sometimes when you talk it is as loud as thunder!" Everyone in the group cheered for my new name. I walked back to the outside circle elated and realized that name given to me on that day would follow me for the rest of my life.

I love my Indian name - I embrace my Indian name - Sweet Thunder is here to stay!