I know kids whose parents bring them breakfast in bed, every day. I know kids whose parents rescue them at the slightest sign of a hangnail. I know kids who are never told ‘no’ by their parents.

I don’t envy these kids. They’ve been given the message that their world will be roses. They’ve been led to believe that society revolves around them and that decisions will always be made in their favour.

And yet, when I think about the times in my life that I didn’t get my way, I realize it is precisely those times that made me who I am today. It’s hard to develop integrity, empathy, perseverance and patience when the answers are always yes.

In the course of my day, sometimes I have to say ‘no’ to kids or to parents. That’s when I remind myself that my job is not to make everyone happy. My job is to make the decisions best for the children in my care. Sometimes, the short term disappointment leads to benefits we can’t anticipate.

As Vivian Greene once said, “Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass… it’s about learning to dance in the rain.”

Why is it that we chose this profession? Surely it is not so we can disseminate information to children? To be carriers of curricular knowledge? Doubtful. We chose to be educators because of the influence we have in the lives of children. For many of us, there was an adult who had this same influence on us when we were young, drawing us into this profession of care.

I recently heard Bishop Motiuk speak about Pope Francis. As we left for the afternoon, he challenged us to, “Go be Pope Francis.” Go out and live the gospel. Go and add a smile and some warmth to someone’s day. Do what is right even when no one is looking.

Each day we teach our students. Some lessons can be found in the curriculum. Many more though are incidentals: timely life lessons taught day in and day out. Lessons about fairness and patience, cooperation and care, humility and hope. With Pope Francis as our guide, we reach out to those who need us most. In his words, “Help one another. This is what Jesus teaches us. This is what I do. And I do it with my heart.”

You know the kind of laughter – the giggles really – that come all the way from the toes, cause full body vibrations and seems to be uncontrollable? That contagious type that gets the whole room going? I had the pleasure of seeing an-almost-10-month-old in this state on Saturday. She full on giggled for almost an hour and had the rest of us going too.

Last week on supervision, two grade two students were walking with me. One was telling me about her older sister who had been injured the day before and required stitches. The other, for reason unknown to us, decided to make up a song about it to the tune of 5 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed. The three of us walked for 15 minutes, giggling as she created and sang verse after verse based on the story her friend was telling. Our own private show.

Andrew Carnegie once said, “There is little success where there is little laughter.” Whether we laugh at home or at work, laughter adds a lightness to what we do. When we can find pleasure in the company of those around us, each day is a little more fun and really, a little more productive. Laughter is the outward sign of happiness and the sharing of laughter an intimate act.

Wishing you a week with laughs…

I recently heard someone talking about baking oatmeal cookies. He listed all sorts of necessary ingredients: flour, oats, baking soda, eggs, butter.

Sugar was not on his list. Oatmeal cookies, he noted, don’t need sugar. Yet when we choose to add sugar, the cookies are a whole lot tastier. An oatmeal cookie without sugar is like our world without the arts.

Whether it be watching a movie, visiting a gallery, listening to music or going to live theatre, these events are the sugar in our-otherwise-oatmeal-cookie-lives. Just imagine the world without the likes of Elton John, Picasso, Van Gogh, Mozart or Steven Spielberg. The arts can provide a little sweetness… a little indulgence… a little fun… a little beauty. Bring on the sugar!

A few weeks ago, we had the opportunity to showcase our school to 120 guests: teachers and administrators from across the province. And though we are always busy in preparation for this event, the day serves as an excellent reminder of all that is good in our school. We give children the opportunity to speak, greet, showcase their learning and showoff our school.

And every year as the guests leave and the cleanup begins, I reflect on what it is that makes our school great. Without question, it is the people. We have a school full of adults who see the best in kids, who slip in anonymous donations to families in need, who sacrifice their own time for the good of the students. And our kids? We have kids who are innovative, creative and compassionate, kids who want to make a difference in the world, kids who see beyond themselves.

Every school has issues to deal with. Our school is no different. There will always be children who need us more than most: academically and emotionally. But when you have a strong team, nothing is insurmountable.

I learned a few things this week about silence and how it is most effective for me. These thoughts are in the order they came to me throughout the week:

1. Silence is difficult to come by! Plan it into the day or it will not happen.
2. My biggest obstacle: my own mindset. “I don’t have time for this!”
3. Close your eyes and set a timer; do not look at the clock.
4. My typical thoughts during silence: my to-do list, my writing and memories that seemingly crept out of nowhere.
5. For most effective mindful silence, concentrate on breathing.
6. Five minutes really isn’t long enough. This week I think I’ll make it seven…

Who knew I’d begin to crave this time? Wow.

How often do you find yourself in silence? Ever? Do you remember periods of silence as a kid? Silence in my life today is hard to come by. Truly, it must be time carved out of my day and rarely do I think to do this.

Recently though, I was with a group of educators and we spoke about silence in the classroom. One educator explained how one of her own elementary teachers planned five minutes of silence into the daily schedule: just before recess. As a young girl she said she relished this time.

What we do with silence when it is given to us or forced upon us becomes our own. I don’t know the thoughts of others during silence; they don’t know mine. For some it might be prayer, for others goal setting, for others a running to-do list. But I wonder how our thoughts and mood (or the thoughts and mood of our students) might change during silence if we began to experience it on a regular basis.

If I had a classroom of my own these days, I would carve 5 minutes of silence into every day. I would dialogue about it with the students first. Perhaps even present it as an experiment. Would those 5 minutes change us? How? Would we become more calm? Better able to deal with anxiety? Would it become time for prayer? Would it become a habit we look forward to in our day? Or would it simply be a waste of time?

Our society is so filled with stimulation: games, television, advertising, devices, advertising on our devices. Can we shut out the noise, stop the distractions, and simply be? I am going to try 5 minutes of daily silence myself this week. I’ll keep you posted…

One day last week I felt like Alexander in Judith Viorst’s book Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. It started first thing in the morning and continued through to evening. Nothing major happened. Nothing tragic. Just one little annoyance and frustration after another. As did Alexander, by the end of the day, I felt like moving to Australia.

Later in the week we had to deliver news to several staff members that we won’t have positions for them next year. It is certainly the least favourite part of my job: telling good people, people who do good work, that we don’t have jobs for them. I am optimistic that they will get something for next year, but the reality is, they now begin the waiting game.

So in contrast then, my day as Alexander was insignificant. There are bigger worries and bigger frustrations than the ones I encountered. No need to move to Australia. I’m good right where I am.

Last week, while working with a small group of students, a little boy had a tantrum because he did not get his way. It was shortly after I had said, “We will be reading this again, so if we don’t get our first choice of characters, there is no reason to get upset.” Evidently, my words didn’t register. The tears and the tantrum began as soon as another boy chose the role he wanted. His tantrum sparked the other student to offer him the role as ‘the wolf’ but I held my ground.

Every day, we are faced with situations where we do not get our way: disappointments, frustrations and curveballs. Tantrums and tears rarely improve the situation.

Recently I came across a quote by Annette Funicello: “Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be wonderful.” In fact, disappointments, frustrations and curveballs sometimes lead to new discoveries or the uncovering of hidden talents. And often, it is in the face of adversity, that the kindness and compassion of others is revealed.

Life is wonderful. There are reminders all around us: the tiny feet of a newborn babe, the warm sunshine, the memories of a recent holiday, the genuine kindness of family and friends. Annette Funicello was right: there is no need for perfection.

P.S. The little boy did get to play the role of the wolf… the second read through.

Each day, I try to venture out of my office and into the classrooms within my school. And when I do, I am impressed and excited by what I see.

Our kindergarten room has a new building corner complete with blueprints, clipboards, maps, blocks and books. In fact, the kindergarten class is planning a field trip to downtown Edmonton to take pictures of the tall, tall buildings. Last week I walked into a grade six classroom just in time to witness a group presenting their business plan and marketing strategies to the class. They answered questions from their peers with ease. Sometimes I see a grade one student lapping the halls with a weighted lizard in his arms. If you didn’t know, you’d wonder what he was up to. I happen to know that these quick laps have increased his ability to focus and stay on task dramatically.

Education has certainly changed since I was a student. To be honest, it has changed significantly in the last ten years since I have been a full time classroom teacher. These changes have been necessary to cope with the changing societal demands and the changing students within our classrooms. It can be hard to keep up sometimes: but it’s certainly worth it! So are the trips out of my office…