Eeeek

I really should be sleeping by now, and it's not just because I have to be at school early tomorrow morning. At 8am I will be donating blood for the first time, and I'm utterly frightened. My veins haven't really been friends with needles, ever, and when I lost a bit of blood during minor foot surgery in high school, I passed out, so we'll see where tomorrow takes me.

I might be shaking in my shoes, but I am also amazed and thankful for the students and staff giving blood at this blood drive, and I'm grateful for the people who organized it so that I didn't have to do a lick of work (props to Leigh Anne and some fantastic seniors).

Maybe you can be praying for all of those people giving blood tomorrow.

Lose Sight of the Trivial

Today was not about subscribing to a particular political party. Today was not about engaging in petty disagreements.

Instead, it is always about this:

"Help us...remember that we are Americans, united not by race or religion or blood, but to our commitment to freedom and justice for all." (from Rick Warren's invocation)

and this:

"...our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please." (from the inaugural address)

I cried unashamedly in T's office this morning when I saw our 44th President stride in. I had never thought this day would happen so soon in my lifetime, but it did. It is.

Encouraging Healthy Eating

Bringing food for your students does not mean that you have to buy pizza, load on the Doritos, or arm yourself with two-liter Cokes.

I brought in bunches of red grapes for my 10th graders one morning last year, and I was pleasantly surprised by their reaction: "Oooooh. Grapes! Thank you, miss!" Not a single one complained that I hadn't brought in candy or doughnuts or chips (or any of the other crap they usually eat), and each filed in line to grab some to take back to their seats.

I wish that we could encourage healthier eating in our students. It starts with the way we eat. So often curious kids will peek in my office to ask me what I'm eating ("Hummus? What's that?"), but they see me drinking a Starbucks chai latte or eating chocolate just as often. It makes me cringe to think that I (and other adults) model the things we probably wouldn't want our kids to do.

What if we brought our students hummus and flatbread instead of chips? What if we took our students out to dinner to try the bold flavors of vegetarian Indian instead of encouraging them to eat a 10-piece McNugget meal? We complain that our youth are rapidly becoming overweight. If this is the case, then we should be doing something about it instead of idly flapping our gums.

A Little Futbol, Miss?

I can predict it down to the second. As soon as I set foot into the cafeteria for high school lunch duty, my eyes meet those of a ninth grade boy's.

"Miss?"

I look at him steadily. I sigh. Finally, I give in.

"Yes, Alejandro?"

I just know the next question that awaits me; I see it in his eyes.

"Miss, can you take us outside?"

As the exchange ensues, a group of ninth grade boys gather around him like a flock of vultures, eagerly awaiting my response, ready to pick it apart at the drop of a hat.

I weigh the choices in my mind. Do I really want to get hot and sweaty outside, watching these kids kick around a soccer ball? Do I really want to run the risk of getting hit in the head while watching them?

Do I really have a choice? Not really. I look at my watch, and then I look at the group-- Alejandro, Ramiro, Miguel, Adolio...they're all pleading with their eyes.

I sigh again. And finally, I relent, although really, I had acquiesed silently when Alejandro first approached me.

"Okay. Meet me out on the deck-- ALL of you-- in two minutes. And don't bring any food out to the field with you!"

Joy is instantaneous as the boys disperse to look for the others. In the classroom, it's harder to rein in such energy with such immediacy. The boys (and a couple of girls) tag along with me to the front field, books, shoes, and ball in tow. It only takes a few moments for them to assemble themselves on the field. Slender Alejandra keeps up with her male counterparts easily.

"Mira, mira!"

It's hard to see in the blinding afternoon sunshine. Freddy is a blur on the field as he kicks the ball to one of the boys. For a while, all I hear are the sounds of an intense soccer game-- the thudding of cleats against the ball, the cuts through the short grass, and the concentrated shouts from the players on the field.

I feel their freedom. They have completely forgotten about the worries of the day-- their detentions, their unfinished homework, their run-ins with a teacher from first period. Finally, I let myself go. What is there to worry about when there is soccer to be played?

Then, the bell rings for the next period to begin. My students reluctantly play their final point and then slowly gather themselves, tucking in uniform shirts, trudging across the field to the rows of portables awaiting them.

One lingers behind slightly. As he gathers his bag, he turns to look at me and say nonchalantly:

"Thanks, Miss."

It amazes me to think about the detail that God puts into His plan for me, and I don't know why I worry so much sometimes.

Home

I stayed for the storm, and when I heard that school was going to be closed for the week, I decided to go home.

To Mississippi.

I haven't been home since Thanksgiving. I don't mind not having power or water, since I've done without for a bit, but I wanted to take advantage of the time to see my parents. And it's been good.

It's lovely to get to hear my mom play the piano and eat home-cooked food together and to laugh over SNL skits with my dad.

I feel a slight twinge of guilt for leaving Houston behind, but I've missed home so much!

Stayin' Put

I'm not budging from my house this time, not after the 23-hour driving experience (without water, without food, and without air conditioning) I had three years ago with Hurricane Rita.

Take that, Ike.