For the past few years, I have participated in the One Little Word® project. Ali Edwards, the originator of "One Little Word," sums it this way:
A single word can be a powerful thing. It can be the ripple in the pond that changes everything. It can be sharp and biting or rich and soft and slow. In 2006 I began a tradition of choosing one word for myself each January – a word to focus on, meditate on, and reflect upon as I go about my daily life. My words have included play, peace, vitality, nurture, story, light, up, open, thrive, give, and whole. These words have each become a part of my life in one way or another. They've been embedded into who I am and into who I'm becoming. They've been what I've needed most (and didn't know I needed). They've helped me to breathe deeper, to see clearer, to navigate challenges, and to grow.
The task in focusing on a word, as opposed to a resolution, is to encourage meditating on one concept that can have far reaching effect in my (and your) life. That concept can permeate how I view my relationships, my job, my past and my future. Becoming intentional with decisions after viewing them through a consistent lens allows me to interact with my story as I write and create around a theme.
After much contemplation, I have chosen the word discipline. I don't mean discipline in a legalistic, unyielding, have to, need to, must, sort of way. I mean discipline in a "I choose to be disciplined in this because it will bear out results or I will feel temperate, accomplished or strong afterward."
Pondering this word should be fairly straightforward. Applying the concept to my life is going to require discipline. One thing I have learned over the course of 56 years is, in order for me to grow I need to practice another little word. Can you guess which hand is mine?
It has been four months since my last post. I just don't know where the time and my initiative have gone. The return to school this year was fraught with anxiety, palpable and exhausting anxiety. As much as I don't like admitting it, I let it get the best of me.
I started the new school year with massive workplace changes. Many of our special education teachers retired or moved on to other jobs. Missing the familiarity of my co-workers as well as the loss of my touchstone, was difficult. My daughter went back to college and left another gaping hole. My son began his senior year of high school and a year of lasts was looming. I had to center myself and that took some doing.
Fast forward to December first (rabbit, rabbit). On the first, we had a two-hour delay, which was glorious. I slip-slid my way to work and as is my norm, did a lot of thinking. My route to an idea is often twisty-turny! I began thinking about the Christmas season, which led to Christmas movies, that segued to A Christmas Carol. I moved on to Charles Dickens and his works. A Tale of Two Cities came to mind. I finally arrived at the inspiration for this post; A Tale of Two Teachers! (Disclaimer; I use the term "teachers" inclusively referring to those who work with children in a school setting and mean no offense to SLPs). My thoughts turned to how what a child hears from a teacher is so powerful. I wonder if teachers realize how their actions, words, and even facial expressions make a lasting mark on children. I began to recall two very different teachers in my own story.
Here are my tales. Fifty years ago, I was a little girl wanting to be just like all the other children. I wanted the nice snacks and Buster Brown shoes and pretty bows in my hair. I wanted to be noticed by my teacher and looked upon with kind eyes. It wasn't always that way and one day in particular it was the complete opposite.
We were lined up by the back door of the classroom, from which we exited. This was our daily routine. Each day, someone would announce to our teacher, "Sister ____, the buses are here," and we would be dismissed. One day, before dismissal we were asked to sing The Lollipop Tree. I suppose our teacher was having a bad day, or perhaps we weren't singing to her satisfaction, or maybe she was just not a kind person. To a six year old none of those things mattered. What did matter, was that I announced the buses had arrived and she grabbed me by the ear, pushed me to the wall, and said with anger so rich, "If I want to know that the buses are here, I'll ask." I was stunned and terrified, embarrassed and confused. Typically my response to tricky situations is FREEZE. This day it was FLIGHT. I ran out that back door as fast as my six year old legs could go. I got on my bus and found my older brothers and wept. As a child, I thought my Mother did nothing to support me in this situation. She calmed me down and never said another word. As I grew, I surmised she must have advocated for me, because when I went to school the next day (full of fear), the event was not discussed. Apparently, my composition book had fallen from my blue vinyl book bag during my getaway. Sister _____ asked who it belonged to aloud (it had my name on it) and with trepidation, I raised my hand. She handed me the book and it was done. To this day I am convinced my Mother addressed the issue.
This next story recounts a very different kind of teacher; a kind and sensitive young man who was highly in tune with his students. I remember so many details of my sixth grade year, for instance, when our teacher announced the end of the Vietnam War. I remember, thinking I was funny and putting guinea pig poop on his chair (and having to write an apology). I remember being shunned by the pretty and rich girls. At this point in my life, our household had changed significantly. It was not always terrific. My younger brother and I were often left to fend for ourselves and our clothes and hygiene reflected that. It was that dreaded time of year for many, the day we got our school pictures packages. I had tried to look pretty, putting my greasy hair in pigtails and wearing a smelly sweater vest. Mrs. ___ had come into our class and was fawning over all the girls' photos, all the girls that is except me. I saw my teacher look at her, establish eye contact with me, and look back at her. He then said, and I will never forget it, "Did you see Annie's picture? She looks beautiful." Mrs. ___ dutifully looked, gave a half-hearted nod, and continued her praise of the class beauties. I shrank into myself further, solidifying the poor self image I would carry with me for years. What I also carried with me, to this day, is the awareness that this teacher possessed of his students, the kindness he had expressed to me and to any others who were willing to recognize it. Many years later, I found him via Facebook and I recounted this tale, thanking him for his sensitivity. His response was as kind as it had been years earlier, "It was because you WERE beautiful."
You can imagine how I wept when I read that. I'll admit I still do, because what teachers say to their students matters. The sidelong glances, the absence of eye contact, ignoring a question, anger, belittling, and the most grievous, sarcasm, all matter. In my 35 years in the schools I have seen teachers gesturally mocking students, telling a student to stand in the trash can, ignoring them, and more. It matters. Those words will likely be remembered for a lifetime. I know I remember, the good and the bad, but for a long time the bad memories were louder.
Which teacher would you rather be? Both have influenced me, one who I strive to be more like and one I eschew. As we start a new year, I challenge every adult working with students to be mindful of what they say, how they say it, and the body language they use. I hope to be the "teacher" a student reaches out to 45 years later and says, "Thank you.
Who am I? Not my name or my birthday. Not where I live or what I do, but who am I...on the inside?
Reflecting on where I want to commit my energies takes on a different bent when I view it through the lens of who I am, or rather who I want to be. Who I want to be as a woman is exactly who I want to be as a speech-language pathologist. I don't think I can separate my professional self from my personal self.
This post then, will be brief! My commitments:
To serve my students and their families with respect.
To reserve judgment and when I don't, to be accountable.
To produce work of a caliber that represents both me and the profession well.
To keep an open heart and mind and approach my students, their families, and colleagues with tolerance. (I will admit I am sometimes "grumpy." I am committing to repair this!)
To remember my needs and the needs of my family.
I suppose this amounts to being the best version of myself as I can. Now, I know that perfection is not my reality. Lord knows I am as flawed as can be. I am no paragon of virtue, I am nevertheless, committed to continuing my journey to fulfillment and contentment.
I think the lyrics to the song, Take the Word of God With You sum up my thoughts well: "Go in peace to serve the world, in peace to serve the world. Take the love of God, the love of God with you as you go."
I did it again! I got caught up in the Christmas season! YAY! As a result, my blog went dark for a month. I can say with certainty, that I missed it! This simple little blog has become for me an exercise in expression, a creative outlet and a source of professional outreach. I am happy to say I am still committed to putting "pen to paper" and forging onward in sharing speech-language therapy ideas and musings.
With the New Year many well meaning folks resolve to complete some sort of self improvement. Like many, I have resigned myself to the fact that resolutions just don't work for me. While I am always motivated at first, my zeal for diet, exercise, or organization peters out. Last year I read quite a bit about the "One Little Word Project." Ali Edwards, the originator of "One Little Word," sums it this way:
A single word can be a powerful thing. It can be the ripple in the pond that changes everything. It can be sharp and biting or rich and soft and slow.
In 2006 I began a tradition of choosing one word for myself each January – a word to focus on, meditate on, and reflect upon as I go about my daily life. My words have included play, peace, vitality, nurture, story, light, up, open, thrive, give, and whole. These words have each become a part of my life in one way or another. They've been embedded into who I am and into who I'm becoming. They've been what I've needed most (and didn't know I needed). They've helped me to breathe deeper, to see clearer, to navigate challenges, and to grow.
Last year I chose two words, one for my personal and one for my professional life (release and love; see last year's post here). The word I have chosen for this year is applicable to both; trust.
My journey has been long and sometimes knotty. It occurred to me as I was contemplating my choice for 2017, that underlying every twist, every high is the notion of trust. Without trust in my family I would have been lost. Without trust in colleagues, I would never have achieved the level of professional joy I have now. Without trust in friends, I would never have felt I belonged. Without trust in myself, I could never have realized my value. Without trust in my God, I would not have realized my own fortitude.
I am looking forward to unpacking the concept of trust, of rolling the word around and layering it over and over in my life. I suspect that as I allow trust to be the bedrock of my life I will grow deeper and wider. Have you found a word to take you into 2017? Please, let me know your choice. Maybe we can share thoughts.
My last blog post was December 5, 2015! I am a fairly committed one blog a week sort of gal, however I unintentionally unplugged for a month. There was no blogging, no TpT'ing, little social media, and no blog reading. It was a little slice of heaven and allowed me to truly enjoy Christmas. I suspect it is time to reenter, albeit slowly.
What I learned, is that I spend an awful lot of time consumed by my profession. Someone recently posed the question on Facebook, "What is your biggest time sucker?" I responded "typing evaluations." I spend at a minimum 2 hours and at a maximum 5+ hours typing evaluations. I also spend hours in therapy planning, reading articles and blogs, preparing materials, and more. I am exhausted by being the consummate SLP. I pride myself on my professionalism and my ability to seek answers when I have none. I identify with what I do as who I am. I was not aware of this until this week and I understood better why 3 days before vacation I was in tears because I had spent 5 hours (not including the assessment itself) interpreting and typing an evaluation and I was utterly drained. I had administered 5 tests in order to truly mete out the nature of the problem. It was an excellent evaluation diagnostically, but it had a cost for this school-based SLP.
Herein lies the rub; I don't know how to do it any other way. It is in my nature to be thorough, to go the extra mile. I want to have materials ready that engage, motivate, and remediate effectively for my students. I have gotten into a pattern that is sucking the life out of me. I wondered; "Is this because of all the amazing ideas I see on social media?" "Is it all the wonderful materials that are available on TpT that are superior to my chintzy ones?" "Is it because I have tied my value as a professional to the time I invest?" No. It has been MY choice and that choice has become a habit and habits can be broken!
I imagine many of you have heard of the "One Little Word" project. Using this model one chooses a word for the year as opposed to a plethora of resolutions that are abandoned in one week's time. This word is savored, meditated on, carried in the heart. I typically don't make resolutions, I make goals and I am pleased to report I often reach them. The idea of selecting a word(s) that drive how I think and behave was intriguing. I have decided to select 2 words, a professional and personal word that I hope become my touchstones. Words I will journal and blog about, relate to my experiences and use as a vehicle for growth.
Without further ado, I offer my words: release and love.
Professionally I seek to release my compulsion for perfection. My therapy activity can be simple positive reinforcement, my evaluation based on 3 tests not 5. I do understand there will be times more deep testing will be necessary, but that can be the exception, not the rule. There will be times I want to do an involved therapy activity, but that can be the exception, not the rule. I will start my day with the word release etched in my mind's eye and explore what releasing myself to myself might look like.
Personally, there were so many words I could have adopted, but as I mulled over all the words I realized there is one very special word that is the foundation of all the others; love. Let love reign. Do all things in love. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. Love your neighbor as yourself. Out of curiosity I did a quick search for "love quotes" and came up with roughly 393,000,000! Phew! As I go about my day, I have been repeating the word love, before I respond with impatience or anger, or intolerance. When I look at the eyes of another I see the word love and behave with love. When I approach a problem I reach into my heart where love is seated and all my solutions, kindness, acceptance, peace, joy are released.Love must be at my center and love must be my foundation for it is only then that love can be at the forefront.
You can learn more about the One Little Word project here. Have you adopted a word or resolution? The Frenzied SLPs are excited to read about how you will meet 2016, so link up and share your aspirations.
