I am striving to be intentional about my wandering. I was a city girl who grew up with itchy feet that wanted to travel the world, and then I married a country boy with an empty passport. Unbeknownst to me, the best adventures were yet to come!
Every now and then I stumble across a blog that has nothing to do with food, and everything to do with another passion of mine: teaching. The previous post was the first I ever heard of this guy, "Louis Schmier". But now, I check his blog frequently to find the nuggets of wisdom he has to pass along from his years of teaching. Here's just such a nugget - a challenge for teaching:
Don’t be afraid to be amazed by each student and don’t be afraid to be amazing.
... you first have to learn how to play hopscotch, learn other children games, learn how to watch a snail crawl, read "Yertle the Turtle", and watch "Bullwinkle". If you want to be a teacher, you have to blow "she loves me, she loves me nots" with a dandilion or pull the indiviudal petals of a daisy, wiggle your toes in the mud and let it ooze through them, stomp in rain puddles, and be humbled by the majesty of a mountain. If you want to be a teacher, you have to fall in love each day. If you want to be a teacher, you have to paddle a canoe, take a hike, or just get out. If you want to be a teacher, you have to fly a kite or throw a frisbee, make sandcastles, love people, and listen intently to the rustle of the leaves or the murmur of the brook or the whisper of the breeze. If you want to be a teacher, you have to dream dreams, play games, talk to the flowers, catch fire flies, admire a weed, walk barefoot in the rain, hold a worm, and see what is yet to be. If you want to be a teacher, you have to think silly thoughts, have a watergun fight, have a pillow fight, swirl a tootsie pop in your mouth, burn sparklers at night, and see in a tree more than a mass of atoms or so many board feet of lumber or something that's in the way. If you want to be a teacher, you have to skip as you walk, laugh at yourself, smile at others, hang loose, always have an eraser handy, concoct an original recipe, and inspire. If you want to be a teacher, you have to fix a bird's broken wing, tweek the neck of a deflating baloon, to zany things, play with a yo-yo, and lose yourself in the quiet scenery to find yourself. If you want to be a teacher, you have to feed the pigeons or squirrels, sing in the shower or tub, smell the flowers, watch a spider spin it's web, play with finger paints, and do a belly flob in a pool. If you want to be a teacher, you have to bring joy into everything, watch in awe a sunset or sunrise, ride on a swing, slide down a slide, bump on a seesaw, and respect even a cockroach as a miracle of life. If you want to be a teacher, you have to ride a bicycle or roller skate or ice skate, and live today. If you want to be a teacher, make all those marvelous feelings and images an intimate part of you and bring them into the classroom with you and share them. If you want to be a teacher, as you have to put aside your formal theories and intellectual constructs and axioms and statistics and charts when you reach out to touch that miracle called the individual human being.