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…

Spring has knocked on our door. Today when I walked the dog there were fewer puddles to avoid. I noticed a little girl on a bike and a boy on a scooter. The chances of slipping on ice are less with each day of melting. Barbecue smells have begun to waft through the early evening air once again. My winter boots, gloves and scarves are ready for summer hibernation. I’ve even considered putting away my snow brush but I’ve lived in Edmonton too many years to tempt fate.

Each day brings us closer to a well deserved Spring Break. It won’t be long now…

Despite what is going on in my world, I am fortunate to be surrounded by the innocence and exuberance of children. A foul mood or a painful back are no competition for the impassioned hugs of children. Their words, their excitement and their love make every day precious.

Last week, two high school teachers visited our school. They acknowledged how difficult and demanding it is to teach in an elementary school. At our level, we teach so much more than curriculum. We teach turn-taking, habit-making, social skills, citizenship, self-management and hygiene. The lessons are often spontaneous and timely.

Despite the demands of our job, elementary school is where I love to be. A frustrating day quickly turns around when a little one exclaims with great enthusiasm, “Look! I found the letter M!” Children discover simple pleasures in every day moments.

“The soul is healed by being with children.” Fyodor Dostoevsky

Teachers are a breed of their own. I can spot them anywhere.

What is it about us? What we wear? How we present ourselves? How is it that we are so easily identifiable? My stepdaughter teases me when we are shopping: “That’s a teacher outfit!” I remind her again and again, that yes, I am a teacher.

On Thursday and Friday, thousands of teachers invaded downtown Edmonton. I wonder what the everyday downtowners think of these days when parking becomes scarce and they are overrun by teachers (teachers who are so excited to be in a restaurant for lunch in the middle of a work week no less)!

In a room full of teachers, the humour touches our shared experience. References to 5 minute lunches, adventures on supervision, words said in front of sixth graders that you immediately regret (“hold on to your balls” for instance). Yes, I’m guilty of that one in a grade six phys. ed. class: a mistake you only make once.

Being a teacher is not the easiest way to earn a living. It is physically and emotionally demanding. Yet, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Yes, I am a teacher and proud of it, too.

My role as an educator in an interesting one. No two days the same. I’ve noticed lately that many tears are shed in my office: by students, by parents and sometimes even by staff. The world we live in is certainly a challenging one. Many people are seeking comfort or solace in their lives. Many are out of sorts. Many have lost their way.

I wonder about the pressures in society these days. Are they reasonable? Where do they stem from? How can we find balance and shalom in our lives?

Some find solace in music, others in physical activity, still others in prayer. Whatever our outlet, it is essential that we strive to live our lives with balance and teach our students to do the same. Ultimately, I feel honoured that individuals feel safe enough to shed their tears in my office. Sharing emotion can be the first step to feeling better. As Renee Peterson Trudeau has said, “Often we have to break down to break through.” This too shall pass.