Back from the Dead!

"Melissa, ever since you started student teaching, it's like you died. You like, don't exist."
So began a phone conversation about a month ago. And so it was. You try student teaching and working and having a calling and trying to have a life in all at the same time and you start to only exist at meal time and bed. At least, that's the way it worked for me.
Nevertheless, after a long absence, I am back blogging with a few highlights of what's been going on for the past few months.

CHINESE
I taught a unit on ancient China which was fun...sort of. The kind where it sounds fun when you start and you think it was pretty fun when you end, but in the middle wonder if you need to be institutionalized. We made Chinese lanterns, learned about the government system, learned how to write using Chinese symbols, watched Mulan, and--most importantly of all--each kid made an abacus and learned how to do math using it. It was a sensation--probably because I told the kids (bleary-eyed and cranky) I had been up past 11:00 pm getting 90 of them ready for the whole 6th grade to make and had desperately used my roommates and a friend as unpaid slave labor to get them all done. But hey--if you have any calculations you need done, give me a call. I have an abacus.

And why let the fun stop at school? We had a Chinese party complete with potstickers, fried rice, chopsticks games, Chinese names, and my personal favorite--mis-fortune cookies. That's right. We learned how to make fortune cookies (which are more delicious than restaurant ones, for your information) and everyone got to take a stab at creating the best misfortune. A few favorites:
*Surprise! You're pregnant!
*You lack personality and your looks won't save you. Just give up now.
*It'll be a party in the USA every day when Miley Ray Cyrus moves in next door.
Think you can be misfortunate? Try it. You'll love it.

HALLOWEEN
Perhaps I'm still bitter that I never got my hot pink highlights when I was growing up. Who knows. But the moment I saw my sister's blue wig this fall, I knew I had to do something with it for Halloween. Punk rocker? Why not? I mean, it at least makes things a little more exciting when you go to 50 cent corn dog night at Sonic. Not to mention the stake dance...

GRADUATION
Don't expect any pictures of caps or gowns since I won't walk until April, but yes, folks...it's official. That means a few things. First, I survived student teaching. I didn't say bad words or scream at the sixth graders (despite one who threw chairs, yelled, and even got suspended). Yes, it is true...I have graduated from BYU and entered the "real world." (Which, I have discovered is code for "Holy Toledo! People are paying me real money to do the same thing I've been doing for months!) I got my first job at Freedom Elementary teaching 5th grade. Undoubtedly, more adventures concerning that to follow....

Solo--Yes, that means alone

Here's how student teaching works. It's kind of like quitting smoking. Little by little you have to move out of your comfort zone and do what feels--some days--a little bit impossible.

You start out pretty comfortable--you sit around observing some expert teacher most of the day and do the important things when needed...things like...give the spelling pre-test or do the read-aloud or walk them to P.E. (Shocking they even let people like me do such important tasks!)

Before long, you're teaching lessons--an after lunch attempt at teaching rounding to the nearest ten or hundred. And then they begin to wean you from you security. No more let someone else just teach all the hard things or take over when they're out of control. No sir. Day by day you find yourself doing more and more until, before you know it, it's the big "solo" word.

All that means is that they pay the teacher to not walk in the classroom between the hours of 9 and 3:15 for two or three weeks. More or less. There are a lot of perks. I mean, no one's watching when you suddenly realize you didn't really print off those worksheets for writing. You just thought you did, so then you tell the kids they're all going to have to do it on a blank piece of paper instead as a "quiz." Ha! And if you need to go have a little one-on-one chat with a kid, it's just you and the kid.

I just finished my first week of "soloing." (What do you call that? "Flying solo?" "Teaching alone?" "Madness?") After surviving the week, I learned two things. 1) What I love 2) What I hate.

1) I LOVE the kids! They are so cute and so funny and every day is just one more reason to be glad I picked my profession. Who else will tell you you're their favorite teacher ever because you do your hair every day? (If that's not a good measure of success, I don't know what is!) I love people who help out. I love collaboration. I love sharing with other teachers. And the fact that kids will be good for two weeks for a single gumball!

2) Ahhh! Grading papers. Planning for every single detail. Trying to plan for the fifty seven unexpected things. How did I know two kids would cut themselves open making a contraction?
Or that I wouldn't be able to remember who was absent the day of the firedrill? Or that you have to remember when moms are coming in to volunteer....

Funny things from this past week.

Little boy's letter the the Search and Rescue:
"Dear Search and Rescue,
I think you do a great job. I would have stomach problems if I did your job. I think you know what I mean."

Little girl's letter to a fairy tale character:
"Dear Sleeping Beauty,
Do you want to come to my house for a party? I'm going to make cupcakes and each one is going to have a four diamond carrot in it."

Little boy during pizza party:
"Bully for pizza? Yeah...I'd do that."
"You better tell your mom to look out if you're having pizza. I'm coming over!!!"

Letter from a little girl to me:
"Dear Miss Waite,
You're the best.....I have a secret hidden talent. I sing and make up songs." (Yes, I definitely see how that relates to me being the best...)

Little girl on the playground:
Me: Maybe next year I'll teach fourth grade. Then I could be your teacher.
Girl: Uh...yeah. But....um....I don't think you'd be very...experienced.

I may be crazy, trying to teach full-time right now and work and attempt sleep, exercise, and a social life, but at least it makes me laugh. And sometimes laughter's the best medicine.

Third Grade Wisdom

Don't you just love third graders? Life is so simple back then. The big news of the day is a bee in the classroom or losing a tooth or getting to go miniature golfing. I'm student teaching right now and, while it has had it's moments, at least it keeps me laughing. Here are some of my favorites:
---
Little boy who is very obviously white:
"Hey, did you know I'm half Indian? And half Mexican!....Uh....and half Cherokee."
(Good, kid. That's a lot of halves!)
---
Little boy:
"Yeah, I saw this guy and his shirt was black and so was his skin! He matched."
Little girl:
"You better not make fun of him or they'll put you in jail!"
Little boy:
"I'm not making fun of him. I just said it was cool..."
---
Me:
"What's your favorite team?"
Little boy wearing an old Navy jersey:
"This one!"
---
Me:
"What would you like to know about the rainforest?"
Little Kid:
"Are there mousetraps?"
---
Little boy:
"I HATE picture day! They make you....smile...."
---
Little girl, flipping her hair:
"I hate how girls put water in their hair just because boys think it's hot."
---
Boy with a map of the state he made up:
"My state has a school, a church, and a temple. We're pretty religious..."
---
Two kids fighting:
"Teacher?"
"You can't call her that! She's not the teacher!"
"Yeah, but she's the right-hand man!"
(Hey, at least I'm something!)
---
Me:
"Name two of the earth's ecosystems."
Kid:
"The Zoo and Africa."
---
Little Girl:
"Hey, you should be called Mrs. Beautiful!"
----
So, if nothing else, I am one beautiful right-hand man. As long as I don't make fun of any black people, take care of the zoo and Africa, watch out for mousetraps in the rainforest and cheer for Old Navy the next time they play, I should be good to go.

EAT YOU WORDS!

Okay, so I know, I've never been known to be wrong...ever.
Until a few weeks ago. Hmmm...Don't you love when that happens?

It is interesting how much we see the world through our own perspective and judgements and biases. We take a few things that we see, put together what we think, throw in a whole lot of assumptions, and bam! Pretty soon we're telling people the way things are. As if we know the reason why someone didn't talk to us or why certain people stopped dating or why life is the way it is.

And the more we tell ourselves, the more it becomes our reality. We convince ourselves that we "know" because of our list of fifty seven reasons we have compiled.

Let's just say, I've been known to do it more than once.
Maybe it's my need to make sense of the universe or trying to answer the WHYs in my life that just don't have any explanation begins to satiate my desire to understand.

The most refreshing thing about September was the chance to be wrong, and then wrong, and then wrong again about the things I thought I "knew." To find out that some people are a lot kinder and nobler and genuinely better than I gave them credit for. To forgive. To find out the real truth. To discover that some of the reasons I was hurt by people were not quite as personal as I had assumed. And even to find out that sometimes I am just flat out wrong.

For a person who hates to be wrong, I'd say it's never felt so good.

Comas, Missions, and Falling in Love

Remember that part in While You Were Sleeping where Peter comes out of the coma and is being wheeled to the elevator while eating his first post-accident ice cream? He takes a look around and says, "Everything looks better, feels better...even this chocolate peanut butter tastes better!" ("Good, it's fudge mint.")

People have always told me (even long before I decided to go on a mission) just how traumatizing it is to come home. And yet, for some reason, from the time I got home until now all I can think of is how much I feel like Peter, really seeing life for the first time.

And so it is, that I have fallen madly in love--in love with life. In love with all the things that I missed before. With the things I never had time for, or more acurately stated, the things I never made time for.

Matthew 10:39 says, "He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it." I spent my whole life fairly sure I knew what that meant. It made sense. I'd heard lots of stories about it. And yet, for the first time, I think I really get it.

I don't think it's possible to "lose" your life any more than a mission. I have never given myself so fully to anything before. I remember one particularly difficult day in Chile, rushing through a park on a Sunday evening and seeing two people sitting on a park bench, just enjoying the setting sun. The only thing I wanted in that moment was to take ten minutes--ten!--to relax, to enjoy the weather, to do nothing more than sit on a park bench. I contemplated it for a few seconds and, knowing my time was not my own, plowed ahead. And yet, that moment stayed with me. I thought over and over again, "Why didn't I ever take time to enjoy the small things when I had the chance?!" I couldn't even think of the last time before my mission that I'd gone out just to watch the sun set.

And so, this spring and summer I have found my life. Found a million new things to love and to be grateful for. I started a list one day and came up with almost a hundred things. Here are a few I've fallen in love with lately....

1. Family!!! Okay, so you always love your family. But I have fallen in love all over again! I can call them whenever I want (and believe me, I do.....). How great is it to be able to drive home for birthdays or Mother's Day or go camping and take your dog?! Or to go shopping or play lasso golf or make homemade ice cream two days in a row or just sit around and talk!

2. Being there. Yep. Getting the chance to hear your sister's senior recital. Or do her hair for prom. Or have dinner and watch American Idol with your brother and his amazing wife every week. Or go watch your cousin perform at halftime during a Springville 9th grade football game. Or be able to help someone pack up to move. Or getting to call your friends on their birthdays and hear their voices. How about going to lunch with people you haven't seen in forever? Or stuffing five people in a car and driving to Vegas because your roommate is getting married. Or seeing your friend's baby the week it's born. Or being able to say yes when someone asks you to babysit their bulldog (even if you do get locked outside one day in your swimming suit....)

3. Friends. Old ones, new ones, work ones, apartment ones, mission ones, school ones. The kind that send you stupid text messages or throw you a chocolate waffle plaid birthday party or make you chocolate chip pancakes on your birthday or let you live in their apartment when you're homeless or listen to your dumb stories for the millionth time or tow your car with five minutes notice or stay up and help you with your cleaning checks 'til 2:00 am or do your hair for a date or make you dinner or go out with you to get frosties late at night. Here I am with my FHE group after an unbelievable Olympic win (yes, yes I did eat a whole watermelon and do the three legged race).

4. Music and Books. As if it's not good enough that someone dug out "Love is a Battlefield," from the 80s to make our FHE music video (complete with dance moves), Jordin Sparks reminded us once again. What's better than driving around in the car belting out, "Why does love always feel like a battlefield?!" Not to mention all the other great sing-alongs. To make things even better, add in one roadtrip where I found my CDs from junior high and sang all the way from Utah to Idaho at the top of my lungs and couldn't hear for the next day. Other happy things? Finally starting the Harry Potter series. (Seriously, I was up 'til 5 am one morning?!) Reading some unbelievable talks. Cracking open the old Les Miserables music and playing the piano. Taking a beginning guitar class and learning classics like "Puff the Magic Dragon," and "Fishing in the Dark." Finally getting a library card to the Provo library and discovering the couches with the really big pillows.

5. Fun. All I can say is why didn't I do more of this stuff before? Finally floating the Provo river. Having a "Staycation" sleepover party. Getting slurpies at midnight. Country dancing. Any kind of dancing. Dressing up. Going to a restaurant and ordering every single dessert. Getting an apartment I love. Getting a job I LOVE. Having a BBQ and watching Singing in the Rain on a giant "screen" (sheet...) in the park, having a chocolate waffle/art/plaid party, having a Cinco de Mayo party. Watching the fireworks. Going to the pool whenever I want. Going longboarding. Having temples all over and being able to go all the time. Making tie-dyed shirts. Making beef and broccoli for the first time. Going on 7-11 slurpie runs. Going to watch Enchanted in the SWKT quad. Sitting in a truck stop at one in the morning eating bacon and chocolate cake. Doing less homework and still having it be good enough.

You know what? Peter's right. Who cares what flavor of ice cream it is?! Fudge mint, chocolate peanut butter....after waking up and finally finding life, everything looks better, feels better, and yes, even tastes better.

Boys, Boxes, and Becoming

"What is it with boys and boxes?!" my sister exclaimed over my chocolate birthday cake. "I just talked to a guy who had a whole theory on boxes and the differences between men and women. He said that men's minds are like boxes. They have a separate box for everything--Work, school, family, etc. Of course, because they're guys, girls are in every box. They can only open one box at a time and work on something. Women, on the other hand, take all their boxes, dump them out, and then throw it all in a blender."

Hmm....Okay, I'll grant that we might dump them all out, but the blender?! That was going a little far.

So what was the deal this week with boys and boxes? It all began Friday at work. I've had a lot of jobs in my life and am used to walking in and doing whatever the boss says. Teaching at the MTC, however, doesn't quite work that way. I mean, I suppose it does, but "the boss" is a little different and finding out what He says certainly requires more concerted effort on my part. So, as I was meditating Friday about what to do with these eager, almost-ready-to-go-to-the-field elders, I got "the feeling." You know, the I-know-this-is-what-I-should-do-but-it's-certainly-not-the-most-logical-or-comfortable-or-even-what-I-want-to-do" feeling? Yep. Well, "the feeling" said that I should let the elders teach me that day. Me. The real, true, I have a life outside these cinderblock walls where my first name's not "Hermana" and my problems are something more than just not understanding the words "restoration" and "apostacy" me. The me that has real desires and fears and worries.

My first thought was, "Are you kidding?" Let a bunch of 19 year old boys who say things like, "Uh...just one question. What's your real hair color?" ("Elders! For the last time! I do not dye my hair!") into my soul? It had to be a joke. It wasn't possible that I really should let them teach me!
And yet, I found myself allowing each companionship to come interview me. Some were cautious while others jumped right in with, "Hi! How are you? Tell me, what is the biggest cause of stress in your life right now?" Or, "So...what worries you most?" And there I was, admitting it not only aloud to myself but to witnesses!

As I gave them time to prepare, I remembered another teacher who had once done this tell me, "Watch out! You'll be surprised how powerful the elders are." Powerful indeed, I thought somewhat sarcastically as one of the companionships began. "Hermana," they started, "We thought of one word when we were preparing: Simplify." "Simplify!" I wanted to yell. "Simplify what? Don't you realize I already have? What would you like me to take out of my life? Work? Family? Church? School?"

As though reading my mind, the elders continued...with The Boxes.
"See, there's a lot of stuff going on in your life. And you just have to make boxes. One of the boxes is 'Things I Can Control/Do.' And the other one is for everything else. And you just load that one up with all the other stuff that you can't control and you just take it to God and you say, "Um, God...Here's this box for you. Can you take it? Thanks."

I stared in awe at the elder, his innocent face glowing with perfect faith, his arms upstretched toward heaven, delivering his box. It was so simple.

And so, I have gone through the dumped box/blender mess which apparently is my "female mind" and done a lot of sorting and I've discovered that the box of things I can do isn't quite as big as I thought, and much more managable than I realized. And every now and then, I stand symbolically with my outstreched hands, hefting a much larger box toward the sky, using all the faith I have to simplify. When things get difficult, I picture that elder and say to myself, "What box would this go in?"

"I don't know what it is with boys and boxes," I told my sister that night, "But you know what? I think they might have something."