I don’t know about you, but “know-it-all’s” really bother me sometimes. You know, they’re the experts in pretty much every subject and always have a new piece of knowledge to share with you or anyone else in the room. My dad is sometimes this way, because he is very intelligent and knows a great deal about things in many different fields. We just chalked it up to his being an engineer, since it seems to be a common trait of other engineers our family knows. Since my dad does not have an arrogant bone in his body, he is rarely annoying when he shares his knowledge.
The time that I remember being most annoyed with people who seemed to know everything was on a road trip to Colorado. If any of you who were there are reading this post, don’t forget I love you, in spite of... well... My traveling buddies were all in various scientific fields--industrial engineering, chemistry, and biology, I believe. They were wonderful people, and all very intelligent. Know-it-all’s one and all, too. Our conversation topics ranged from raising sheep to theology, to the trucking industry, to societal trends in maturity, and to denominational distinctives. I like to talk--a lot--and about a wide range of topics, but this bunch really wore me out. Perhaps I was just feeling that inferiority that an English major may often feel when surrounded by science geniuses, but I know I looked at each one of them at some time during the night and shook my head, thinking, “Yeah, I bet you really are the best expert I could find on that topic in the American West.” Sarcastically, of course.
Ummm, here’s the reason I am bringing up this topic... I have to confess that I am a know-it-all. I’ve realized for a long time that I have this tendency, but I watch it more carefully in some settings than in others. It usually is a great quality to have as a teacher, especially when one works in a pretty collaborative setting like my school. First of all, if I don’t have a modicum of knowledge in every academic subject area I am not able to help my students as well as I should. Also, I want to spark the imagination of my under-resourced learners so that they see all the experiences that can be in store for them, academically and otherwise, and a wide range of knowledge helps there. My high schoolers work independently at their own pace, so there is great time for student-teacher interaction, which means when one of my freshmen asked me whether or not America currently had a king (not kidding), you had better believe she did not receive a simple “no.” I’m sure some of my kids get aggravated by that (Ask a simple question...), but many of them enjoy my little tangents and learn their material better because of them. I call it “enrichment.”
However, I’ve realized over the last two weeks that I’m not doing very well at turning my “enrichment tool” off after school. Two separate weekends convicted me and reminded me that in all my wisdom I can be very clueless. First, I joined my mother and my sister for Women of Faith in St. Paul (which was fabulous, by the way. I’m not sure if I’ll get around to blogging about it, but I was thoroughly entertained, blessed, and encouraged). Sometime during the second day, a small group of us were in the middle of conversation, and when I started to chip in my thoughts, my sister got my attention and said subtly, “Stop talking. You’ve talked enough.” I had thought I’d gotten to the point when I was good at knowing when to appropriately insert my ideas, but her comment made me consider that maybe I’m not quite there, or at least that I still have my moments of verbal steamroller. Later on that day she said something to the same effect that stung a little, and corrected me. I definitely got annoyed with her, but I also replayed the weekend quite a bit to see if I had been dominating a bit. I wasn’t sure, but I knew it was completely possible. My sister is usually right when she confronts me on that kind of thing.
The next weekend I was on a girls’ weekend in Rapid City with two of my best girlfriends in Eagle Butte, and we again had a fantastic time. However, there were at least two or three times (probably more) that I off-handedly mentioned some “factoid” or random thing that I had heard, and my friends and I had little mini-arguments over them that weren’t at all hostile but were unnecessary. I’m not sure my friends really picked up on those moments, but if they were bothered by them, I probably need to apologize. I hope they don’t make me go too far back in apologizing for these moments, because I know I get that way semi-often, and usually end up in stupid arguments.
My students in seventh grade asked me to go for a whole morning without smiling at them last Thursday. That was miserable. My research shows that a smile really does make Miss Osthus’ day go better. However, next time I’m with my friends, I’ll ask God to help me go for an evening without having a “Little Miss Know-it-all” moment. I think that will be much more helpful, and that I can find other ways to “enrich” the conversation!
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
In Exile... Waiting For Restoration!
Dear reader, tonight I have a strangely delicious concept to treat, one which you may or may not understand in all its comfort and beauty. The concept is that of exile, and it has been brought to my attention in various ways over the last month.
The most fundamental way in which exile has been constantly brought to my thoughts is through my devotions in the prophetic book of Ezekiel, from which I am trying to read a chapter every day. Ezekiel himself is an exile, having been taken from his native land in one of the emptyings of Jerusalem into Babylon. My notes say that he must have been taken, along with King Jehoiachin and 10,000 other Jews, a handful of years before the final siege of Jerusalem. God commissions him to foretell the fall of Jerusalem, future restoration, and other things further into the future.
One thing that strikes me is that those who had not yet been taken captive by Babylon and so remained in Jerusalem were quite ridiculously self-satisfied, and denied the future danger they must have seen coming. By saying, “Will it not soon be time to build houses? This city is a cooking pot, and we are the meat,” they implied that they who were left were obviously the “cream of the crop,” and that those who had been taken must have been in some way inferior. God directly contradicts them by saying that the real “meat” of their people were those that were murdered and thrown into the streets of Jerusalem for fighting against the evil in the land. He also calls the remnant that has been scattered to tell them that they will someday return to Him. Exile will not last forever.
The second thing that has placed exile in my mind has been reading Perfecting Ourselves to Death, a book that I was given when I was on internship with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship several years ago. I’ve never thought of myself as a perfectionist to an unhealthy degree, which is probably why I never got around to reading it, but I finally decided it was time to start burrowing into my book pile, and this one was toward the top, partly because I have some perfectionists in my life, and was considering passing it on later. Several chapters in this book struck a chord with me, not as a perfectionist but as a human, and one with a philosophical bent. Most interesting to me was a discussion of the spiritual causes of unhealthy perfectionism--that of knowing we were created for perfection.
Yum. [Don’t ask me why that’s the first word that comes to mind, except that anything that is comforting or delightful to me is instantly equated with food. : ) That’s why, while I don’t think every Christian has to fast from food regularly, I do.] Anyway, I read this passage right after doing my devotions one lovely weekend afternoon, and was it ever a beautiful combination of words to teach me and heal my soul. Hmmm, was I tired and miserable because I don’t belong in Eagle Butte? No, I was tired and miserable because I don’t belong in this world at all and I needed the assistance of my heavenly Father to get through one more week without being physically in His presence.
Right around the time I finished Perfecting Ourselves to Death, I started True Story, by James Choung, which I picked up at the lovely Bear Trap Ranch this summer. The themes of exile and restoration run through this entire book as well. Caleb, the main character in this book, has been a Christian for a long time, but starts strongly questioning his understanding of the gospel after going on a mission trip and then meeting a beautiful wannabe atheist in one of his classes. On his mission trip, he is involved in amazing ministry and knows he is following in Jesus’ footsteps by serving the poor, but he gets discouraged when he has no converts to report in church and his college pastor seems to be disappointed in him. The beautiful wannabe atheist is very bitter against the church and her family in particular, and she characterizes all Christians as materialistic hypocrites.
Both of these experiences drive Caleb to accept a new worldview, offered by one of his Christian professors. He moves from an understanding of a God who saves souls from Hell one by one and then waits for them in Heaven to seeing that He, as the Creator of the world who saw it fatally damaged by sin, now has a mission to restore all of creation to Himself. Caleb realizes that his job of sharing the “message of reconciliation” (II Cor. 5:19), is so much bigger and more exciting that handing out tracts showing people how to cross the chasm of separation from God. Instead, this commission encompasses every spiritual, political, moral, social, and even environmental evil and injustice. More than anything, he realizes God is much bigger than he ever knew, and that the whole world is longing to be made complete in Him. We all of us are in exile and in need of restoration.
The last thing that reminds me of my exile is my everyday experience in anticipation of Christ’s return. I wish I could say that I look to the heavens every morning and say, “Maybe today, Lord,” but I’m working on that. Even though I love my life and I am excited for different opportunities that may be waiting for me, and even though I would love to have a husband and children or even grandchildren of my own someday, if Jesus were to come back next week, well, would I or could I even consider being disappointed at what I would miss? Pretty sure not. I told my friend Amanda last night that whatever big life experiences I won’t have had by the time He comes back (if it is during my lifetime) will be nothing more than the ride I missed at the carnival or the art gallery I skipped in New Bern. To be in Heaven for eternity with my Savior must be adventure enough!
The most fundamental way in which exile has been constantly brought to my thoughts is through my devotions in the prophetic book of Ezekiel, from which I am trying to read a chapter every day. Ezekiel himself is an exile, having been taken from his native land in one of the emptyings of Jerusalem into Babylon. My notes say that he must have been taken, along with King Jehoiachin and 10,000 other Jews, a handful of years before the final siege of Jerusalem. God commissions him to foretell the fall of Jerusalem, future restoration, and other things further into the future.
One thing that strikes me is that those who had not yet been taken captive by Babylon and so remained in Jerusalem were quite ridiculously self-satisfied, and denied the future danger they must have seen coming. By saying, “Will it not soon be time to build houses? This city is a cooking pot, and we are the meat,” they implied that they who were left were obviously the “cream of the crop,” and that those who had been taken must have been in some way inferior. God directly contradicts them by saying that the real “meat” of their people were those that were murdered and thrown into the streets of Jerusalem for fighting against the evil in the land. He also calls the remnant that has been scattered to tell them that they will someday return to Him. Exile will not last forever.
The second thing that has placed exile in my mind has been reading Perfecting Ourselves to Death, a book that I was given when I was on internship with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship several years ago. I’ve never thought of myself as a perfectionist to an unhealthy degree, which is probably why I never got around to reading it, but I finally decided it was time to start burrowing into my book pile, and this one was toward the top, partly because I have some perfectionists in my life, and was considering passing it on later. Several chapters in this book struck a chord with me, not as a perfectionist but as a human, and one with a philosophical bent. Most interesting to me was a discussion of the spiritual causes of unhealthy perfectionism--that of knowing we were created for perfection.
“The book of Genesis tells us that when God saw all that he had made, he pronounced it very good (Gen. 1:31). The implication is that God’s creation was perfect until it was marred by Adam and Eve’s disobedience. If this account is really true, then it would not be surprising that we have a memory of, and longing for, that original perfection built into our psyche. The Bible also tells us that we are made for something more than we experience daily in our imperfect, fallen state, and that some day the original harmony and perfection of creation will be restored. So, not only do we have memories of a perfect past, we have the expectation and hope of fulfillment and perfection in the future. J.R.R. Tolkien wrote a letter to his son in which he reflected this longing: ‘Certainly there was an Eden on this very unhappy earth. We all long for it, and we are constantly glimpsing it: our whole nature at its best and least corrupted, its gentlest and most humane, it is still soaked with the sense of ‘exile’’” (Winter 122).
Yum. [Don’t ask me why that’s the first word that comes to mind, except that anything that is comforting or delightful to me is instantly equated with food. : ) That’s why, while I don’t think every Christian has to fast from food regularly, I do.] Anyway, I read this passage right after doing my devotions one lovely weekend afternoon, and was it ever a beautiful combination of words to teach me and heal my soul. Hmmm, was I tired and miserable because I don’t belong in Eagle Butte? No, I was tired and miserable because I don’t belong in this world at all and I needed the assistance of my heavenly Father to get through one more week without being physically in His presence.
Right around the time I finished Perfecting Ourselves to Death, I started True Story, by James Choung, which I picked up at the lovely Bear Trap Ranch this summer. The themes of exile and restoration run through this entire book as well. Caleb, the main character in this book, has been a Christian for a long time, but starts strongly questioning his understanding of the gospel after going on a mission trip and then meeting a beautiful wannabe atheist in one of his classes. On his mission trip, he is involved in amazing ministry and knows he is following in Jesus’ footsteps by serving the poor, but he gets discouraged when he has no converts to report in church and his college pastor seems to be disappointed in him. The beautiful wannabe atheist is very bitter against the church and her family in particular, and she characterizes all Christians as materialistic hypocrites.
Both of these experiences drive Caleb to accept a new worldview, offered by one of his Christian professors. He moves from an understanding of a God who saves souls from Hell one by one and then waits for them in Heaven to seeing that He, as the Creator of the world who saw it fatally damaged by sin, now has a mission to restore all of creation to Himself. Caleb realizes that his job of sharing the “message of reconciliation” (II Cor. 5:19), is so much bigger and more exciting that handing out tracts showing people how to cross the chasm of separation from God. Instead, this commission encompasses every spiritual, political, moral, social, and even environmental evil and injustice. More than anything, he realizes God is much bigger than he ever knew, and that the whole world is longing to be made complete in Him. We all of us are in exile and in need of restoration.
The last thing that reminds me of my exile is my everyday experience in anticipation of Christ’s return. I wish I could say that I look to the heavens every morning and say, “Maybe today, Lord,” but I’m working on that. Even though I love my life and I am excited for different opportunities that may be waiting for me, and even though I would love to have a husband and children or even grandchildren of my own someday, if Jesus were to come back next week, well, would I or could I even consider being disappointed at what I would miss? Pretty sure not. I told my friend Amanda last night that whatever big life experiences I won’t have had by the time He comes back (if it is during my lifetime) will be nothing more than the ride I missed at the carnival or the art gallery I skipped in New Bern. To be in Heaven for eternity with my Savior must be adventure enough!
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Starting out my year right... by blogging!
I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to advertise my posts a bit more. If more people read them regularly, I would at least have more accountability to keep writing. What to write about tonight? Tomorrow is my first day back on contract, and the end of my life as a private person for the year. Being a teacher really is a public job, especially in a small town. It is a job in which the majority of the town might know who you are, but very few of them really know you. Of course, my situation is worse because of the tiny number of blonds in Eagle Butte. What can I do but laugh about that? Yesterday I was in Pierre, and this guy I may have very vaguely recognized came up to me in the Lakota bookstore and said, “Hey, you’re from Eagle Butte.” Turns out I worked with his daughter last year, but he just recognized me from seeing me in town. I’m hard to miss.
What have I learned about the reservation in the two years I have lived here? It’s not nearly as different from the rest of the Midwest as some people tried to lead me to believe. Every reservation is different, which should be a surprise to no one, so I really just know about this one. I’ve mentioned a few differences in a few of my posts, but I haven’t gone too in depth. I don’t guess I will this time, either, but I’ll see where I get.
There are a few things that have had the potential to shock me or infuriate me. Let me just say I hate showing shock above everything, because it’s rude, naive, judgmental, and more, but if anything were going to shock me around here, these things would. 1) There is semi-serious talk of physically driving someone disliked off the reservation, usually in tribal council meetings. This actually happens somewhat regularly. Who does that?! 2) During a parent forum last year several grandparents in the community, some of whom who were very well known and respected, accused the school board and the teachers of bullying their students and not caring whether they succeed. One of these ladies compared the education we were offering to the abusive experiences she had in a boarding school over sixty years ago. All that I learned was that the fundamental value that modern Lakotas have is getting their own way, no matter what the issue. 3) If there is any place where it is acceptable that a baby’s first word is a cuss word, it might be here. So I have been very sheltered when it comes to swearing, but I’d say it’s pretty ridiculous here. If you’ve ever read Sherman Alexie and wondered if he exaggerated about the language used on the reservation, he’s pretty accurate by Eagle Butte standards, anyway. 4) This one breaks my heart. I do not know a single Christian family who has raised their kids here near town whose children reached adulthood without getting pregnant, going to JDC, running away from home, or getting addicted to drugs. How is that possible? It’s not a guarantee that I won’t raise my kids here, but good grief it’s a good thing to realize. With God all things are possible, and all things work according to His plan, but wow.
Well, in spite of these things and others (see previous post), I unaccountably love this place! I’m getting pretty antsy to have my kids back on Thursday, and I’m super excited for the fair Labor Day weekend. God has given me a love for this place that lifts me up just about any day and makes me thank Him for how amazing my life is! Pray, pray, pray, but know I am safe in God’s arms and at the center of His will! Praise Him!
What have I learned about the reservation in the two years I have lived here? It’s not nearly as different from the rest of the Midwest as some people tried to lead me to believe. Every reservation is different, which should be a surprise to no one, so I really just know about this one. I’ve mentioned a few differences in a few of my posts, but I haven’t gone too in depth. I don’t guess I will this time, either, but I’ll see where I get.
There are a few things that have had the potential to shock me or infuriate me. Let me just say I hate showing shock above everything, because it’s rude, naive, judgmental, and more, but if anything were going to shock me around here, these things would. 1) There is semi-serious talk of physically driving someone disliked off the reservation, usually in tribal council meetings. This actually happens somewhat regularly. Who does that?! 2) During a parent forum last year several grandparents in the community, some of whom who were very well known and respected, accused the school board and the teachers of bullying their students and not caring whether they succeed. One of these ladies compared the education we were offering to the abusive experiences she had in a boarding school over sixty years ago. All that I learned was that the fundamental value that modern Lakotas have is getting their own way, no matter what the issue. 3) If there is any place where it is acceptable that a baby’s first word is a cuss word, it might be here. So I have been very sheltered when it comes to swearing, but I’d say it’s pretty ridiculous here. If you’ve ever read Sherman Alexie and wondered if he exaggerated about the language used on the reservation, he’s pretty accurate by Eagle Butte standards, anyway. 4) This one breaks my heart. I do not know a single Christian family who has raised their kids here near town whose children reached adulthood without getting pregnant, going to JDC, running away from home, or getting addicted to drugs. How is that possible? It’s not a guarantee that I won’t raise my kids here, but good grief it’s a good thing to realize. With God all things are possible, and all things work according to His plan, but wow.
Well, in spite of these things and others (see previous post), I unaccountably love this place! I’m getting pretty antsy to have my kids back on Thursday, and I’m super excited for the fair Labor Day weekend. God has given me a love for this place that lifts me up just about any day and makes me thank Him for how amazing my life is! Pray, pray, pray, but know I am safe in God’s arms and at the center of His will! Praise Him!
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Quick year-in-review
Well, first things first. This is how I can best sum up my second year as a teacher:
During my second year of teaching, my True Love gave to me
12 Slothful Seniors,
11 Great Co-workers,
10 Misplaced Novels,
9 Kids in Youth Group,
8 Last Day Essays,
7 Plagiarized Papers,
6 Good Girlfriends,
5 Nights with Frozen Plumbing!
4 Bad Blizzards,
3 Grouchy Grandmas,
2 Car Crashes,
And the Strength and Joy I needed for Life!
So, now you know why I haven’t blogged much! The seven or so credits that I was required to take didn’t fit anywhere there, or the five out of five seventh graders with Individualized Education Plans, but just this list tells you a lot. I also hit the 270,000 mark with my battered old Monte Carlo. It really has been a good year, but one of the toughest years of my life. I have no idea what I’m in for this year!
During my second year of teaching, my True Love gave to me
12 Slothful Seniors,
11 Great Co-workers,
10 Misplaced Novels,
9 Kids in Youth Group,
8 Last Day Essays,
7 Plagiarized Papers,
6 Good Girlfriends,
5 Nights with Frozen Plumbing!
4 Bad Blizzards,
3 Grouchy Grandmas,
2 Car Crashes,
And the Strength and Joy I needed for Life!
So, now you know why I haven’t blogged much! The seven or so credits that I was required to take didn’t fit anywhere there, or the five out of five seventh graders with Individualized Education Plans, but just this list tells you a lot. I also hit the 270,000 mark with my battered old Monte Carlo. It really has been a good year, but one of the toughest years of my life. I have no idea what I’m in for this year!
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Rejected
It’s almost midnight, and I desperately need sleep, but I need to write this down first. My heart is hurting a bit tonight, though I’ve already been assured by all my co-workers that it shouldn’t be. I just saw the results from our student survey of the E.A.G.L.E. Center, and they’re kind of crappy. Out of the approximately 75 kids we have, about 9 of them consistently answered negatively, saying they had no one at school with whom they could talk openly, that the staff don’t care about them or assist them when they need help, and that the principal doesn’t care. I could give a host of reasons for this group (including the fact that about fifteen of the students who answered admitted that they miss one to two days of school every week, meaning they might not even know our names, and the fact that some of our kids are poor enough readers or lazy enough that they might have just picked “D” and stayed on it, as the survey answers are consistent regarding positive and negative answers). However, I have been told to always look at myself first, which really isn’t bad advice in most cases. OK then!
In looking at myself, I confess that I deeply love all my students, even the ones who try to drive me crazy, and would bend over backward to help them. All of my co-workers think the same way, and I know that all of them from the Principal on down desire to see our students succeed. I don’t see how anyone who watches Dr. Birkeland make a presentation, sees a teacher crawling on her knees from student to student to help them with math, or observes the warm interaction our exceptional education teacher has with our students could imagine anything else. That’s us, according to Miss Osthus’ perceptions.
So, should I go with one of my earlier theories about unreliability, assume my perceptions are dead wrong and that we are not really demonstrating care for students, or assume my kids are crazy? I just can’t quite shrug it all off. I know that being a people-pleaser can be very harmful in certain cases, and that a teacher or a parent can do a great disservice to her kids by just wanting them to like her, but a student’s perception of adults in his or her life matters--a lot. Knowing an adult at school cares about you and wants you to succeed doesn’t fix everything (or anything), but it can give a kid reason to hope and keep going. That being said, I would have to be very concerned if I were convinced that nearly one seventh of all my students could ever say that neither I nor any of my co-workers cared about them and their success, no matter how bad the day had been.
Anyway, as I’ve been ranting tonight and asking God what in the world the deal is, He’s reminded me of two things: the nature of teenagers and the nature of man. First I realized, as I hunted in my cupboards for a snack, how many teenagers, no matter what kind of parents they have, honestly think at certain moments that they can’t talk with their parents about anything. Their parents might love them more than anything else in the world, but an individual perception can overlook that. If a kid has a chip on his shoulder or has deep wounds from the past, ignoring love sounds like a fine defense strategy.
The other realization was somewhat more staggering to me, though it was obvious: most people take forever to realize that they can speak openly with God, and that He cares about them and assists them when they need help! “God, if Jesus Himself could be rejected by the apple of His eye, mankind, then maybe You can hold and protect my heart when my precious students reject the love and help that I offer them. I pray they all stop rejecting the human hearts that reach out to them, but God, may the gifts You are holding out to them be absolutely irresistible!”
Pray for me, brothers and sisters.
In looking at myself, I confess that I deeply love all my students, even the ones who try to drive me crazy, and would bend over backward to help them. All of my co-workers think the same way, and I know that all of them from the Principal on down desire to see our students succeed. I don’t see how anyone who watches Dr. Birkeland make a presentation, sees a teacher crawling on her knees from student to student to help them with math, or observes the warm interaction our exceptional education teacher has with our students could imagine anything else. That’s us, according to Miss Osthus’ perceptions.
So, should I go with one of my earlier theories about unreliability, assume my perceptions are dead wrong and that we are not really demonstrating care for students, or assume my kids are crazy? I just can’t quite shrug it all off. I know that being a people-pleaser can be very harmful in certain cases, and that a teacher or a parent can do a great disservice to her kids by just wanting them to like her, but a student’s perception of adults in his or her life matters--a lot. Knowing an adult at school cares about you and wants you to succeed doesn’t fix everything (or anything), but it can give a kid reason to hope and keep going. That being said, I would have to be very concerned if I were convinced that nearly one seventh of all my students could ever say that neither I nor any of my co-workers cared about them and their success, no matter how bad the day had been.
Anyway, as I’ve been ranting tonight and asking God what in the world the deal is, He’s reminded me of two things: the nature of teenagers and the nature of man. First I realized, as I hunted in my cupboards for a snack, how many teenagers, no matter what kind of parents they have, honestly think at certain moments that they can’t talk with their parents about anything. Their parents might love them more than anything else in the world, but an individual perception can overlook that. If a kid has a chip on his shoulder or has deep wounds from the past, ignoring love sounds like a fine defense strategy.
The other realization was somewhat more staggering to me, though it was obvious: most people take forever to realize that they can speak openly with God, and that He cares about them and assists them when they need help! “God, if Jesus Himself could be rejected by the apple of His eye, mankind, then maybe You can hold and protect my heart when my precious students reject the love and help that I offer them. I pray they all stop rejecting the human hearts that reach out to them, but God, may the gifts You are holding out to them be absolutely irresistible!”
Pray for me, brothers and sisters.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Sacred Romance
I have been promising to tell you why my time last weekend in Pierre was so awesome, so I guess I’d better before I forget! I have to admit, that morning as I slowly got ready the sky was the limit. At the very least I was hoping to see some attractive men in Pierre. I may be a little more man-crazy than the average woman, but does it sound weird to you that being in Eagle Butte too long makes me go through a little withdrawal? I guess you can’t really understand unless you’ve lived in a semi-isolated place. It’s not like there are no good-looking men here... but there really aren’t many. Anyway, because of the increased likelihood of seeing attractive men in Pierre, I spent a little more time getting ready than usual, since I wanted to look cute. I sometimes forget that the most awesome guys don’t really care what I look like, and that the best One is both in Eagle Butte and Pierre. Oh, well.
I started out my day in Pierre in a lovely way doing something I’ve been longing to do: I finally got to visit the coffee shop, Pier 347, which is just as cool as I expected it to be. I got some cinnamon-sugar bagel bites and chai, and settled in to do some reading and grading. That was a fabulous way to spend a few hours, and it made me want a coffee shop in Eagle Butte so much!
After that I spent a space of time wandering up and down the little downtown strip, though by then only a few places were open, since it was around 4:30 PM or so. I went in to the Hobby shop, and after a brief walk-through, probably spent about half an hour talking to the guys surrounding the register. A few of them were kinda cute, but I think most of them were married. I didn’t really care, though--we just had a fun conversation about South Dakota, child-rearing, the women who frequent the leather shop across the street from them, and other things. The next store that was open was the Hollywood Shop, which has quite expensive (well, over $100) dresses. I visited with another guy there, who was probably in his seventies. I don't usually look too closely at dresses that expensive, so I needed conversation. We had a very fun chat--his wife grew up in Timber Lake, which is one of the smaller towns near to me. I asked around as I went to figure out where I should have supper, and got a tentative recommendation for the Chinese restaurant downtown, since I said I was in the mood for Chinese.
After that I washed my car and whipped through Walmart to pick up some other things, though my “whipping” got slower and slower as I figured out what I needed and wanted. About this time I smiled up at Jesus and asked Him if He wanted to go out to supper with me (facetiously, of course. I didn’t really have the option to leave Him behind!) I was still hankering for Chinese food, so I pulled up to the downtown Chinese restaurant at around 8:00 PM. I was totally overcome when I walked in the door, settled down into a booth, and immediately realized the restaurant was playing Christian music! God must have known I’d get distracted from our “date” otherwise! I know I would have. I can always distract myself, but it’s much easier to focus on your Jesus if you are surrounded by praise music. Plus, I loved pretty much every single song they played. The restaurant was almost empty, and by the time I finished my supper, I had been the only customer for about half an hour. Pretty sure I was singing along on at least a few of the songs. I just couldn’t help it! Who ever knew a Chinese restaurant to play a Christian radio station? I was in awe, as I always am when Jesus “shows up” in a way I don’t expect.
Despite the fact that the food itself was less than stellar, supper put me into a very romantic mood. Because of this, and because I was feeling very full of less-than-stellar Chinese, I decided I needed a walk, so I headed to the Capitol grounds at about 10:00 PM. There is a circular walk at the bottom of the hill that is very well lit, and I figured that would be the perfect place to wrap up my night before heading home. I would say it was. It was lovely, in fact. I read names on the monuments, found Dewey County on the list of county names, and tried mostly unsuccessfully to take some nighttime pictures. I kept singing to Jesus, because I wanted to hang onto the the wonder I had felt when I heard His gentle reminders. After that, I slid back into my car and started the relatively brief drive home, wishing that I had my computer to write on. When I retell this story it seems very inconsequential, but it was a big deal to me. God restored my soul.
I started out my day in Pierre in a lovely way doing something I’ve been longing to do: I finally got to visit the coffee shop, Pier 347, which is just as cool as I expected it to be. I got some cinnamon-sugar bagel bites and chai, and settled in to do some reading and grading. That was a fabulous way to spend a few hours, and it made me want a coffee shop in Eagle Butte so much!
After that I spent a space of time wandering up and down the little downtown strip, though by then only a few places were open, since it was around 4:30 PM or so. I went in to the Hobby shop, and after a brief walk-through, probably spent about half an hour talking to the guys surrounding the register. A few of them were kinda cute, but I think most of them were married. I didn’t really care, though--we just had a fun conversation about South Dakota, child-rearing, the women who frequent the leather shop across the street from them, and other things. The next store that was open was the Hollywood Shop, which has quite expensive (well, over $100) dresses. I visited with another guy there, who was probably in his seventies. I don't usually look too closely at dresses that expensive, so I needed conversation. We had a very fun chat--his wife grew up in Timber Lake, which is one of the smaller towns near to me. I asked around as I went to figure out where I should have supper, and got a tentative recommendation for the Chinese restaurant downtown, since I said I was in the mood for Chinese.
After that I washed my car and whipped through Walmart to pick up some other things, though my “whipping” got slower and slower as I figured out what I needed and wanted. About this time I smiled up at Jesus and asked Him if He wanted to go out to supper with me (facetiously, of course. I didn’t really have the option to leave Him behind!) I was still hankering for Chinese food, so I pulled up to the downtown Chinese restaurant at around 8:00 PM. I was totally overcome when I walked in the door, settled down into a booth, and immediately realized the restaurant was playing Christian music! God must have known I’d get distracted from our “date” otherwise! I know I would have. I can always distract myself, but it’s much easier to focus on your Jesus if you are surrounded by praise music. Plus, I loved pretty much every single song they played. The restaurant was almost empty, and by the time I finished my supper, I had been the only customer for about half an hour. Pretty sure I was singing along on at least a few of the songs. I just couldn’t help it! Who ever knew a Chinese restaurant to play a Christian radio station? I was in awe, as I always am when Jesus “shows up” in a way I don’t expect.
Despite the fact that the food itself was less than stellar, supper put me into a very romantic mood. Because of this, and because I was feeling very full of less-than-stellar Chinese, I decided I needed a walk, so I headed to the Capitol grounds at about 10:00 PM. There is a circular walk at the bottom of the hill that is very well lit, and I figured that would be the perfect place to wrap up my night before heading home. I would say it was. It was lovely, in fact. I read names on the monuments, found Dewey County on the list of county names, and tried mostly unsuccessfully to take some nighttime pictures. I kept singing to Jesus, because I wanted to hang onto the the wonder I had felt when I heard His gentle reminders. After that, I slid back into my car and started the relatively brief drive home, wishing that I had my computer to write on. When I retell this story it seems very inconsequential, but it was a big deal to me. God restored my soul.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Evangelism... tangled in my heartstrings
As a member of the FLY 2011 Committee, there are several convention areas that I am responsible for. The first three areas weren’t necessarily chosen because of my interests or aptitude, though some fit better than others. Then there is Evangelism... Uff da. This is the one area that I really, really want to fit me.
If there is one thing I am learning about evangelism right now, it is that evangelism is a visceral, often painful process that might often seem to be absolutely fruitless. However, that hasn’t always been my experience.
Though it was a bit of a culture shock transferring from a conservative Bible School to a liberal university for college, I’d say my faith thrived there. As editor of the conservative student publication, each month I wrote an article from a Christian perspective that both atheists and Christians found highly thought-provoking, and as a student leader, I often had random members of the campus community approach me to get the “definitive” Christian perspective. Mixed in with that oh-so-human pride and that oh-so-divine humility was just plain elation that I had finally “gotten it,” had finally learned how to live out my faith in my daily life and reach close friends and acquaintances alike!
That was until God took me to my current location. When I knew God was calling me to be a teacher I expected it to be a ministry, especially when I got a job offer to come to the Cheyenne River reservation in South Dakota. Because of my unique position at an alternative school, I actually have tons of opportunities to share my faith. When kids ask me what I do on the weekends, I tell them. When they ask me why in the world I’m smiling while my broken-down car is in the shop, I tell them.
Regardless, I am learning that evangelism in some situations is much more painful than in my earlier experiences. Evangelism means “the act of sharing good news.” However, the good news can only come after the bad: that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23) The meaning of law and gospel doctrine is that one message is empty without the other, but together, the two make a beautiful change inside someone’s life. Here’s the twist in my life on the reservation: my kids all know the bad news already. They all know that people are messed up and that they have no hope on their own. As the evangelist, I am the one being continually reminded of the bad news, and being continually overcome by the beauty of the good news. Now if only my kids would believe that second part, too!
Before you get pictures in your head of me (or any other Christian) being the conquering Christian warrior, I have one more thing to tell you: besides being gut-wrenchingly painful, I’ve also discovered that the rewards of evangelism are very rarely of this world. In all my seed-planting, I can’t tell you one story about someone coming personally to me and asking for help in giving his or her life to Christ. That’s OK, though. Jesus reminds us in Matthew 6:5 that those who pursue earthly goals receive their full rewards on earth. Think of the blessings we have waiting for us in Heaven, those treasures which we know will be utterly worthless to us there, compared to seeing His face!
If there is one thing I am learning about evangelism right now, it is that evangelism is a visceral, often painful process that might often seem to be absolutely fruitless. However, that hasn’t always been my experience.
Though it was a bit of a culture shock transferring from a conservative Bible School to a liberal university for college, I’d say my faith thrived there. As editor of the conservative student publication, each month I wrote an article from a Christian perspective that both atheists and Christians found highly thought-provoking, and as a student leader, I often had random members of the campus community approach me to get the “definitive” Christian perspective. Mixed in with that oh-so-human pride and that oh-so-divine humility was just plain elation that I had finally “gotten it,” had finally learned how to live out my faith in my daily life and reach close friends and acquaintances alike!
That was until God took me to my current location. When I knew God was calling me to be a teacher I expected it to be a ministry, especially when I got a job offer to come to the Cheyenne River reservation in South Dakota. Because of my unique position at an alternative school, I actually have tons of opportunities to share my faith. When kids ask me what I do on the weekends, I tell them. When they ask me why in the world I’m smiling while my broken-down car is in the shop, I tell them.
Regardless, I am learning that evangelism in some situations is much more painful than in my earlier experiences. Evangelism means “the act of sharing good news.” However, the good news can only come after the bad: that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23) The meaning of law and gospel doctrine is that one message is empty without the other, but together, the two make a beautiful change inside someone’s life. Here’s the twist in my life on the reservation: my kids all know the bad news already. They all know that people are messed up and that they have no hope on their own. As the evangelist, I am the one being continually reminded of the bad news, and being continually overcome by the beauty of the good news. Now if only my kids would believe that second part, too!
Before you get pictures in your head of me (or any other Christian) being the conquering Christian warrior, I have one more thing to tell you: besides being gut-wrenchingly painful, I’ve also discovered that the rewards of evangelism are very rarely of this world. In all my seed-planting, I can’t tell you one story about someone coming personally to me and asking for help in giving his or her life to Christ. That’s OK, though. Jesus reminds us in Matthew 6:5 that those who pursue earthly goals receive their full rewards on earth. Think of the blessings we have waiting for us in Heaven, those treasures which we know will be utterly worthless to us there, compared to seeing His face!
Wednesday, January 05, 2011
Summary of NCTE trip!
I know this is lame, but here is my blog post for November, which doubled as my trip report to the tribe. I will report on December next. Maybe this weekend... And pictures will be up here soon!
From November 18th to November 20th, I had the privilege of attending the Annual Convention of the National Council of Teachers of English in Orlando, Florida at Walt Disney World’s Coronado Springs Resort. The theme of the convention was “Teachers and Students Together: Living Literate Lives.”
My travel day began at noon on November 17th, when I left the E.A.G.L.E. Center to drive to the Rapid City Regional Airport. Since my plane had been delayed I was put onto an earlier flight, and from then on my trip to Orlando, with stops in Denver and Dallas, was uneventful. I arrived in Orlando close to my 9:45 AM ETA, and had just enough time to check-in at the All-Star Sports Resort and receive my luggage before the shuttle departed for the first featured session at Coronado Springs. Disney provides shuttle service from the airport to all of their resorts, which was very convenient!
The program schedule was extremely full, with one general session per day and a long list of elective options throughout each day. Some sessions that I especially appreciated included “Using Books to Ban Racial Stereotypes,” “Taking Risks With ‘At Risk’ Learners,” and “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Censorship But Were Too Chilled To Ask.” There were approximately fifty options for most elective slots, which made my decisions quite a challenge, but every session I attended applied directly to my personal and professional interests. I took note of several new strategies and activities that I hope to use in the future, and may have uncovered some new ways to challenge and motivate my students.
The remainder of the time I had at the convention was mainly spent in the Exhibit Hall, where I gathered information about programs, curriculum, and assessments. I kept my eyes open for enrichment activities and for some practical help with our EC yearbook, finding a great “reader’s theatre” collection and two affordable student publishing programs. Some other things of interest were a Bible literacy curriculum and a few fun children's book merchants. I also spent some time at the book merchants, finding an anthology to use in seventh and eighth grade and other great literature on sale.
As for the final purpose of professional conferences, while I did not take advantage of any extra recreational opportunities provided at Walt Disney World, I got what I wanted most: a nap in a hammock under swaying palm trees and a few opportunities to swim. I also had tasty, though very expensive, food, and had one particularly nice dinner out of my per diem allowance at Kouzzina by Cat Cora, a Mediterranean restaurant. The Convention was refreshing and reinvigorating in many ways, and I look forward to incorporating some of my new ideas and new materials into my instruction.
The biggest thing I learned is that next time I'm taking a buddy, so if you're an English teacher who wants to go to NCTE in a few years, let me know!
Love you all! Sorry I have gotten so far behind! Christina
From November 18th to November 20th, I had the privilege of attending the Annual Convention of the National Council of Teachers of English in Orlando, Florida at Walt Disney World’s Coronado Springs Resort. The theme of the convention was “Teachers and Students Together: Living Literate Lives.”
My travel day began at noon on November 17th, when I left the E.A.G.L.E. Center to drive to the Rapid City Regional Airport. Since my plane had been delayed I was put onto an earlier flight, and from then on my trip to Orlando, with stops in Denver and Dallas, was uneventful. I arrived in Orlando close to my 9:45 AM ETA, and had just enough time to check-in at the All-Star Sports Resort and receive my luggage before the shuttle departed for the first featured session at Coronado Springs. Disney provides shuttle service from the airport to all of their resorts, which was very convenient!
The program schedule was extremely full, with one general session per day and a long list of elective options throughout each day. Some sessions that I especially appreciated included “Using Books to Ban Racial Stereotypes,” “Taking Risks With ‘At Risk’ Learners,” and “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Censorship But Were Too Chilled To Ask.” There were approximately fifty options for most elective slots, which made my decisions quite a challenge, but every session I attended applied directly to my personal and professional interests. I took note of several new strategies and activities that I hope to use in the future, and may have uncovered some new ways to challenge and motivate my students.
The remainder of the time I had at the convention was mainly spent in the Exhibit Hall, where I gathered information about programs, curriculum, and assessments. I kept my eyes open for enrichment activities and for some practical help with our EC yearbook, finding a great “reader’s theatre” collection and two affordable student publishing programs. Some other things of interest were a Bible literacy curriculum and a few fun children's book merchants. I also spent some time at the book merchants, finding an anthology to use in seventh and eighth grade and other great literature on sale.
As for the final purpose of professional conferences, while I did not take advantage of any extra recreational opportunities provided at Walt Disney World, I got what I wanted most: a nap in a hammock under swaying palm trees and a few opportunities to swim. I also had tasty, though very expensive, food, and had one particularly nice dinner out of my per diem allowance at Kouzzina by Cat Cora, a Mediterranean restaurant. The Convention was refreshing and reinvigorating in many ways, and I look forward to incorporating some of my new ideas and new materials into my instruction.
The biggest thing I learned is that next time I'm taking a buddy, so if you're an English teacher who wants to go to NCTE in a few years, let me know!
Love you all! Sorry I have gotten so far behind! Christina
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