THE BOOK IS CLOSING

I have been a bit sick the past few days, so I just go to sleep in the evenings, waking up in the morning to realize that I haven't written. Then, once you skip for a few days, it is hard to get back in the habit.

Since my last post, quite a bit has happened. The school has had Christmas parties, movies, and concerts. However, it is quite a different concert than anything I have ever been involved in. The little kids sang some Christmas carols, let by my boy Marcfrid, one of the students. He was quite possibly the cutest kid I have ever watched direct a choir, and actually did a very good job. I was quite impressed! The middle school wrote a play and did it. It was about thieves coming and stealing presents from a families house. Pretty weak if you ask me, but for writing it in the morning and presenting it in the afternoon, it was quite well. I just wish they wouldn't always procrastinate to the last second to do something that could be quite good. Also, five middle school boys decided to remake a "Boyz II Men" Christmas song and dance to it. Once again, I was quite impressed. This, however, is most likely because in the culture I came from, no one really dances, or shakes their hips like these kids do. So I am constantly finding myself impressed by what they can do. High schoolers read poems and elementary kids must have forgot it was Christmas. They didn't prepare anything, but did devour all the food that was brought for everyone.

Finals were also given in the past week, so many students were complaining. For my students, I have never been so happy with them. After giving a spelling final with all the words from the year, I was a little worried to grade it. On a normal test, I would have drained my entire pen with red marks so this is what I was prepared for. However, after two, very lengthy finals, I handed out one F and the rest were A's and B's. For once, my boys took their time, didn't talk, and focused on a test, trying to get the best possible grade.

Today was my last day at YLC, which was only a half day. Of course, there was no learning going on, being the day before a huge break. Knowing this, half the parents didn't even send their children to school. Therefore, it seemed quite empty. I played a few games with my boys, gave them some word searches to keep them busy, and tried to do an English lesson with them, but who am I kidding? They weren't having it. After a few good laughs and a movie, it was time to bid the boys I have grown to love goodbye. While I hate them in school, I love them to death, but I have come to figure this is how it works in the life of a teacher. You have to love your kids, and letting them go is very hard, but I know it isn't over. I will see them again!

After school was over, the teachers and staff had prepared a big "Christmas" party, however, when I entered, everyone was there yelling surprise with a big "Happy Birthday" sign hanging and birthday decorations everyone. A large white cake even added a nice touch of flavor that said, "Happy Birthday Mr. Isaac and Farewell." Dang I hate that word. Just hearing it makes me tear up a bit. Farewell seems like forever, like something you say to someone who has died. Gifts were given to everyone for Christmas, but I felt like they just kept coming to me. I received a plaque that is more like a trophy thanking me for my dedication to the school the past semester. It really was a nice and thoughtful gift that I will take with me. I also was given a few bottles of wine and a cologne set. Maybe I smell weird to Haitian people? I don't know!!

As I said goodbyes and parted, I think back to all the amazing memories that have grown in my mind. I take many memories and pictures back with me to help me continue to grow through my experience here in Miami and Little Haiti. I will be back! I know I will. To teach at Yvonne? I do not know. I can not rule that out, but I know that some day in my life, I will be living back in this community! There is no doubt in my mind.

I now stay here in Miami to reflect on my experience and wind down everything that has happened in the past four months. Where has all my time gone here? I never thought I would get to the day that I was writing about my last day at Yvonne Learning Center, yet, here it is. As I continue on through my journey I will take everything that I have experienced and use it to help guide my on my path through life. I have experienced something not many people have got to experience. I have done this and more. I have lived..and I have experienced first hand.....Little Haiti!

FINAL MONDAY

The last week of school. The first day of the last week at school. My last Monday at YLC. Bittersweet? Well, I would lean more to the "sweet" end of things. Being in Goshen with friends and family made me REALLY miss being there and going to school, however, my duty is here for another week, so I must make the best of it. As tempting as it was to skip my plane ride back, and just stay in Goshen, I had to be responsible. But is it a sin to be happy that a placement is about over? I do not feel like it is. Does it sound bad that I am ready to be done and back to a normal life and a more organized life? Sometimes I feel like this is unfair to the people here, yet, I have done my duty, served my time and learned a lot. Is there more that could be learned, quite possibly, but I am ready for a change, and the end is now in sight!

Last week always equals exam week. We must see what our student have learned in the semester to see our success as teachers, and their success as students. Today, I gave the spelling final that I wrote on the plane ride back. FIve whole pages of spelling words, for them to correct, and remember the definitions. It has been quite a few weeks since some of them have seen these words, so I let them review for about and hour then handed out the test. They worked very quietly surprisingly, however, after an hour and half, since it wasn't new anymore, they started talking. They have to constantly have new things, otherwise, they are not happy. I gave them a break over lunch, did a math lesson with them, then gave them the tests back to finish. Since it was a new thing again, they worked quietly for the remainder of the day on these tests. And wouldn't you know, these boys that had trouble reading first grade books were all doing spelling tests with the words: phenomenon, government, wharf, embargo, everything, sister-in-law, great-aunt, and believe. This was amazing. I have never been so happy to go through a test, especially a final, and NOT make red marks all over it. What a rewarding feeling.

Now, to continue on with the rest of the week, and giving a different final each day will be another test for all of us involved. Will they get burnt out on tests and not try on the last several? I hope not. I hope the A's, B's, and C's continue to be made. TODAY...was a good day! :)

FIELD TRIP DAY

Finally, a day at "work" where I was not really required to work. A day where I could relax and wear my street clothes and still not be yelled at. The day of my dreams finally came, but proved to be a nightmare. Well, sort of!

As school kids gathered at school, we once again had the Super Tuesday service, praising, singing and praying together. Knowing this was my last Super Tuesday service, I had a smile on the whole time, even though it was so hot in the back room with 93 kids screaming, singing and dancing. No air conditioner that I know of could work its magic enough to actually keep that place cooled off. One hour of this is about enough to soak a shirt with sweat, and make one smell quite funky for the remainder of the day, yet, no one really seems to care.

As people leave the room of worship, the bus has arrived for the first field trip of the year. Word buzzes around school and excitement fills the air. Everyone is pumped to get out of school for the day and go to a park to relax in the sunshine. The 84 degree sunshine and 97% humidity. Just thinking about it makes me sweat again. It was HOT! As the bus is filled we take head counts and make sure everyone that paid is on the bus. The rest are left behind until their parents can take them home for school. Personally, I would have taken that direction had I been given the option. A hot day at the park or thousands of rules, or a day at home with video games. Seems like a no brainer to me, but that is because I had a good home life. I don't know all these kids stories at home.

As we end the 30 minutes trek to the park, empty basketball courts and huge playground equipment awaits us to run and jump all over it. Immediately, the courts were filled with boys changing into basketball clothes, including Mr. Samir and myself. It was the battle of the year. Finally a good court with two great hoops. The real skills could be proven today. The game was rough and long, but through the sweat and many hits, everyone finished strong and came out alive. Scratches and bruises, but breathing.

Clothes were soaked, and children tired. Shade was quickly found as everyone rested, trying to let the sweat dry up which is nearly impossible in the Southern Florida humidity. After a bit a dare was made, and they aren't taken easy. One boy challenged everyone that he was the fastest. Immediately, another took him on. Of course they are both in my class, making me look like the bad teacher. Five short minutes after this dare, the boy who decided to take on the challenge ran his face into a metal pole because he could not stop, pushing his teeth through his bottom lip, leaving a HUGE hole from the outside, all the way to the inside, requiring about 10 stitches. After this moment, we may as well of gone home because no one was allowed to do anything, except breathe and stay in place. The risk of someone else getting injured was not going to happen.

Sandwiches and chips were prepared as we handed them out to everyone, ate, and returned to school. Everyone that is, except for my boy Oliver. He was at the hospital for the remainder of the school day, until he returned about 3 minutes before the release time. His lip was incredibly huge with black strings dancing all over it, as blood continued to make its way out around the stitches. Why oh why do these things always happen to me? I feel like I am getting paid back for all the frustrations that I caused my teachers growing up. Funny how life always seems to do this!

BACK IN MIAMI

As the plane took off over the Chicago lights to take me back to Miami, reflections of the weekend and life came to mind, as many memories of friends are families continued to pop up in my mind. Flying over a huge city like Chicago or Miami at night is such a beautiful sight. When a plane can leave a city like Chicago at night, filled with ice, fog and snow in the horizon, the lights glow like little halos. Within three shorts hours, you look out the window and see the lights that look similar, only no clouds and no fog, yet, a reflection of the moon in the ocean, highlighted by the bright neon lights of the downtown buildings, making them glow. Did I mention the temperature had raised about 60 degrees in this short trip? Our world is simply amazing!

While I road on the plane, I got out my computer and started writing out the final that I was to give my class on Monday. As I looked through all the spelling words that we had throughout the semester, little conversations came to mind that I had with my students over the past semester, explaining what each word meant. Looking at their writing has really made me appreciate the differences in people and in cultures. While we in Kansas hear about people in the hood or the ghetto, we imagine them having a different language. Not one that is different, but a different slang to our words in English. Words are put in different order in sentences here in Miami, and this is what I have learned that makes their language so different. Everyone not in this subculture believes that words are changed up, or pronounced differently, however this doesn’t seem to be so. I think back to coming in with what most people would call “proper English” and trying to teach them in this style. And to be honest, it hasn’t seemed to work. I was not reaching them when trying to define the spelling words. They weren’t understanding, and have never heard them used in the proper way. Listening to the other teachers, they even use it wrong. Why? Because we ARE no longer in Kansas Toto! I hade to come to the realization that while we change environments, from Harper to Miami, different things change. I was going to have to change, to make an effect on these kids, and learn to talk a bit like them. Then and only then were they going to learn. I had to learn a new sentence structure. Not one that is written down and understandable, but one you just have to know and adapt to. Once I started this, teaching these spelling words deemed to be much easier for me. I could relate these words’ definitions to each of these boys, helping them know how to use them. Its funny how your thoughts wonder like this, but I am glad they do!

WEDDING DAY #2

When something goes from extreme heat to extreme cold, or vice versa, it is not very healthy for it. The cells in a body or the molecules in an object are expanded with the heat, then go to compressed with the cold. This is what my body is continually feeling every single time I go outside. I am used to walking out and wiping a bead of sweat of my brow, however, these days I am wiping a ball of ice off instead.

Its wedding day in Goshen and the temperature is falling. We go to the church for pictures, where the heater is proving to work greatly, yet, we decided to take pictures outside where traces of snow are still proving its presence the day before. We have to stand outside and watch all the girls being pretty for pictures in their tiny dresses. I could not have withstood the temperatures for pictures. In my three-layered tux I was freezing, as I stood on the campus of Goshen College, waiting for my turn to get into the pictures.

Finally it was back to the warmth of the church for some final pictures and the ceremony of the wedding. It went very well and everything seemed to be perfect as it flowed like the waters of the beach. I was glad Landon didn’t choose to have an outdoor wedding!

It was then off to the reception, where a good time is to be had with many old college friends present, as well as good food. This is the perfect Mennonite picture: friends, family, food and fellowship. Of course all of your friends are your fourth and fifth cousins, but we never find out until we start dating them.

Overall the day was a very good one, and almost picture perfect, as the snow gently fell in the lights of main street Goshen. It almost felt as if we were celebrating inside of a snow globe, as the flakes glistened on the outside and we partied on the inside. Once again, the beauty of God was proved in a beautiful day, celebration and nature

TRAVEL

Yesterday, the majority of my time was spent traveling to my friend Landon Rupp's wedding in Goshen, IN. Home of the cold!

The morning started by getting up and getting ready, like the usual day. Megan was kind enough to get the car warmed up, which takes no time since it is 86 degrees when we wake up. She took me to the train station, which is close to our house, yet, took a good 20-30 minutes to get to. Once there, I sat and waited by myself on the lonely train that would take me to Ft. Lauderdale airport. At first, I was excited that the train was empty, but then, people started coming on. At each stop more and more people were loading onto it for a ride to work. After stopping at about 8 stations, we finally got to where I was getting off. Lugging around two huge suitcases was quite difficult when given about 15 seconds to get off the train before the door would slam shut on you.

After I got off the train, I sat on a shuttle and waited for a good 15 minutes for no one else to come. You would think that when no one else is even in sight, it is a good clue no one else is going to get on. So, I sat there with the shuttle driver, listening to her horrible music as we just sat. Finally we took off and she got me to the airport just in time to get checked in and catch my flight.

Once again I was in an airport, the best place to "people-watch" other than the beach, and I didn't even have time to sit and watch people. Every stage of my travel I was cutting it way too close for comfort.

The plane ride went as quick as three hours can (exactly three hours) as I sat by an old couple from Omaha, NE who had lived the majority of their lives in Wichita. It was fun to chat with people from the home state once again, since I haven't been able to lately. It was also fun to see white, English speaking people again. It is so weird to see people from my own culture, as I never do much in Miami, except the people I am living with, but even they don't have the same sub-culture of Kansas that these people on the plane and I do.

When the plane landed, I was greeted by two great friends who were in Chicago, and going to the wedding. However, since I am cutting everything close, it didn't give us much time to get to Goshen before the rehearsal started for the wedding. However, I made it just as the introductions were being finished and the pastor was praying. Perfect timing if you ask me. No embarrassing introductions! Wrong! Of course the pastor looks up and sees a huge person trying to sneak in and makes a big deal out of who it was. I had to introduce myself in front of EVERYONE. Something I LOVE doing, let me tell you. Even after this, the rehearsal went great and the diner went even better. It is good to be back with the people you love, and back to my real paradise. Even though I went through about 80 degrees of change in 3 short hours!

YOU'RE GUNNA MISS THIS

Did you know:

Miami has an elevation of 12 ft?

The average daily temperature is 76 degrees F?

Miami-Dade county has 1,955 square miles?

5.5 million people fill that space?

Miami has one of the largest snow skiing clubs in the United States?

Miami is home to 150+ ethnicities and 60 languages?

-and I believe that English is probably language number 60

The average amount of days with sunshine each year is 250?

-I think Goshen is like 3!

I only have 14 days left here?

Only 14 days left? Where has all the time gone to? It seems like just yesterday I was slowly edging towards the door at YLC extremely scared to be in the environment of the "ghetto" of Little Haiti. Now, just 4 quick months later, I am at my last four and half days left there, as they start talking to me about a replacement person. Letting me be a little bit on the board of hiring, asking me for opinions of people that would do good with the boys I am leaving behind.

Only about 14 days total left here on the shores of the Sunshine State until I return the devastation state of Indiana, but mainly just Goshen. I love the place, but it will be hard to go from the Sunshine Capital of the Nation to the cloudiest city in the nation. And coldest as well! What is this I hear about single digit temperatures and ice?! I am leaving 90 degree days to fly to Chicago in less than an hour and I only have a sweatshirt. If I make it back to Florida without frost bite, it is going to be a miracle!

Last night while eating supper with my room mates, we started talking a bit about coming back next semester and when everyone will finally be back and it made me already start to miss it here, even though I was still here. I didn't really think this would happen, but 4 months on being in a place, you start to have your routine and become attached. I started thinking about one of my favorite country songs by Trace Adkins that says in the chorus:

You're gunna miss this

You're gunna want this back

You're gunna wish these days

Hadn't gone by so fast

These are some good times

So take a good look around

You may not know this now

But you're gunna miss this

It goes on to talk about a girl rushing through life. Once she gets to one stage she is continually looking ahead to what is next and rushing to get there, but someone is telling her to slow down and take it all in, because she is really going to miss these days. I think it is hitting home, while packing back to take to Chicago which will never return to Miami, that the leaving date is really coming, and soon this will no longer be home, but yet, like every other American, just a fantasy land of travel and vacation.

I am gunna miss this, and I will want it back (except for maybe teaching. I don't think I will want that one back) Maybe I will have it back though! Maybe I will return after graduating Goshen in April and head back south. I never know where the needle on my compass is pointing, because my destinations change everyday. It will be interesting to see what direction my life will take next. Who knows, maybe Anchorage, Alaska!

A PEACEFUL STANCE

I return to school, not excited one bit about it, but go nevertheless. It is my job and duty. I have reached one of those points where you don't want to go to work, due to being spoiled from having a very long weekend, and yet another long weekend ahead of me. When I arrive, nothing has seemed to change. The same jumbled mess that always tends to work itself out no matter what happens. Once again, I tag along with the chaos, add my own touch of it and make it through the day.

When I arrive, Mr. Samir was there to greet me with a smiling face. I could tell he was anxious to tell me something, but what it was going to be, I obviously was unaware. "Let me fill you in on some events from yesterday." I smile, excited to hear some the of the YLC gossip.

"Well, your boy Jude may have gotten his butt whooped by a girl yesterday. Supposedly, she was brooming (or what we call sweeping) the floor and hit Jude's shoes when he decided to let her know he didn't appreciate that. I guess throughout the day, they had both been exchanging words and this was her snapping point. She just started laying punches on his head while the teacher watched thinking they were just joking until she got him down and kept laying hits on him. I wish you could have seen it!" To fill you in on Jude a bit, this boy is the softest person on the face of the planet, who turns and runs when he feels someone is THINKING about hitting him. He is a very scared boy, but loves to talk things up like he is the best fighter in the world. Knowing this child makes it all the more funny just due to the fact of how much smack he talks, yet, will not even back it one bit.

During class, everyone was giving Jude fits about it, and he seemed to be down all day. It was almost nice to see him quiet for a change, and sitting there doing work. I asked him later in the day what happened. He informed me that he didn't want to hit her back, because she was a girl. "I don't believe in doing that," he told me. "I am not going to hit a girl." Well, knowing this boy, he is not going to hit a guy either, but I admire him for this. How many perfect Mennonites, when getting pounded in front of classmates, nonetheless by a girl, will just sit there and take it knowing he is going to be tested for it later. While being submerged in a culture full of violence and beating, it was great to see that one actually does have a peaceful stance in his life. One he believes in AND sticks to, even in the time of action. What a great gift to see in one of your students. Very possibly, I rubbed off on this guy a little bit. Hopefully, if this is the case, he will always remember the stance of a Mennonite that we have talked about in class, and may he continue to live a life of peace, staying away from the dangers in fighting and war. If he learns nothing else this year (I hate when teachers and others say this because it is very cliche) but, if nothing else is learned, I pray that he honestly can remember me for my peaceful stance in the world and continue to live this way.

RETREAT IN THE KEYS DAY 3

For the final day in the Keys, we were once again woken earlier than planned from the bright rays of sun coming through the glass. While we were still in silent time for this morning, I had thought of going out on a walk, just to get away and be in nature, but then I realized it was only about 7 in the morning. If I would sleep possibly another 2 hours, it would be that much more I wouldn't have to worry about not talking. Even if it is only thirty extra minutes of sleep. Obviously, the choice of sleep was it, and my next conscious moment hit me about 9:32, according to my phone.

The house was strolling around being quiet. I read a bit in my book and got ready for the day. Once the teeth were brushed, I headed out the door for a nice nature walk. While I tried to make it long, the road ran out pretty shortly and turned to highway, so, I turned around and decided to go sit out in ocean for a bit, just relaxing with the fish. However, the first thing I saw as I was wading, was a nice big puffer fish, swimming right by my ankles. I was quite nervous knowing that they are just a bit poisonous, but no big deal. When I jerked my ankle, he swam away quickly and never even puffed up. Other things I saw were hermit crabs, stone crabs, small minnows and some sweet coral just sitting there swaying in the water. Getting bored of watching them, I wanted to interact so I found a stick and the biggest crab I spotted and after about 30 minutes had him on shore hissing at me. What a great life!

Quiet time was over at 11 in the morning, which was weird to start talking again. I thought I'd be anxious to talk, however, listening to the silence and just concentrating by yourself on whatever came to mind really is a great thing. Being out with the ocean and your mind is some where you can not always get to. Especially in a city of 5.5 million people. There is always a constant hum of some sort.

We loaded the van and took off for Key West for our last day of retreat. We were headed the the southern most point of land in the United States. We later proved everyone wrong as we looked up Hawaii, being much more south, but technically, I was at the southern most point of America. Only 90 short miles from Havanah, Cuba. This seems weird since I feel closer to Cuba sitting in my living room. In Key West, we went to a Conch Bar, where we were served a fantastic meal in an amazing environment with fish in an aquarium. The only difference from the snorkeling the day before was the glass separating us. And the lack of sting rays and barracuda swimming right at you.

We walked around the shops, quickly discovering it was identical to every other tourist hotspot with the crude T-shirts and dirty ladies, however, everything here referred to being south and sea life. A place of its own, yet, carbon copy of Bourbon Street in New Orleans, Louisiana. Key West was a bit different than I had ever really imagined it, as I always wanted to go as a kid, but heard it was really no place for a kid. This was very true as drunk people lined the streets trying to talk to you as you passed. One lady even talked me into letting her try my hat on, but crossed the line when she asked if she could keep it. I have never came into contact with someone that sloshed.

We took off back for home, making quick bathroom stops as we flew back across the bridges from island to island. This gave me time to reflect on retreat and everything we had experienced, especially the beauty God has created in his world. Just being in this small group of islands and seeing all the life that fills it, it really is something to think of the entire world and what all possibly can be sharing this big ball we call Earth with all the different types of humans. The complexity of God must be very extreme; all the way to the point that I no longer dream of trying to figure out God. He is so amazing that we can not have any way on Earth of trying to determine it. The fine little details that go into every fish and crab (that most likely will never see a human or change the world that we know of) are so amazing, and just shows that God cares about everything on the face of the earth. I am used to seeing these details in mosquitos and bugs back home, but never think of it, because they are a part of my life. This trip gave me a realization of what really is surrounding us every day!

RETREAT IN THE KEYS DAY 2

The morning came early, especially for JJ and I who slept in the living room on the East side of the house, which is lined with windows. However, it reminds me of waking up in my bedroom at home, as the sun creeps in early in the morning. At the first crack of light, the room started heating up as well, as the direct sunlight seemed to make the indoor temperatures rise.

Everyone was up by about 9-930, softly walking or chatting except for JJ who was pounding on everything and as hyper as a youngster eating chocolate cake on their birthday. In all of its “annoyingness” it truly was something to watch this guy bouncing off of everything. “We must leave by 11:30,” Heidi told us as we all glanced at the time revealing about an hour and half. We were heading off on a snorkeling adventure for the day, and must not be late.

As everyone was ready, we took off and made it there with plenty of time to spare. Our first time being on time to anything this semester. It really was quite weird. However, we sat around and talked, went shopping for some snacks, and then loaded the boat just before 1 and took out to sea.

We had a great history lesson of the Keys, pirates, and southern Florida as we floated through the Gulf of Mexico. That is, until we went under the bridge of Highway 1, when we entered the Atlantic Ocean. The change is so amazing and breathtaking. Not really. Both look pretty similar is you ask me. But we were off, flying as fast as the boat would take us as we passed many of the islands that roads do not go to. One in particular is one of the nicest resorts in the keys, with rooms starting at 1200 dollars. It was an amazing looking place, with each condo having their own private beach like yard with lawn furniture for two in every one. Seemed like a great honeymooning place. Now, I just have to find the bride that I haven’t started searching for yet. All the other plans so far are in the bag. Maybe I’ll just have to settle for spending a night there by myself.

Just past this island, we got to our destination; one of the only living coral reefs left in the Keys, as most of them are dieing off. We were informed you do not touch ANYTHING in the ocean, but just observe the nature of it. We all bundled up in our snorkel outfits, looking real attractive, jumped in, and about died. Now I can swim and hold my own, but when it comes to sticking my head in water and breathing out of a tube while looked it sharks, stingrays and barracudas, my place is right next to the captain on the boat. I knew I hated this sport, but really wanted to try it again. Once again, I proved to myself that I still can’t relax enough to breath through that stupid tube. I have no problem being in there with the fish, but how much they stressed not touching anything scared the daylights out of me, after each time I kicked him flippers, something hard hit the end of them. How do you honestly keep a size 14 flipper for hitting anything when the water is like 5 foot deep? Therefore, after feeling like a dog swimming around forever with my head up, trying not to die just so I could protect these stupid corals, I got in the boat and took pictures.

After a bit, everyone was called in, and we got out the fishing lines and the bait. This is what I am talking about. I will see the wildlife, but I stay dry and bring them in to see me. Make the fish come into our environment! Quickly, Julie had a bite and pulled in a colorful fish. Suddenly, it seemed like everyone was pulling something in, but nothing was ever big enough to do anything, other that put in an aquarium back home. However, it was fun to see these colorful fish coming out of the water on the pole in MY hand, not one on discovery channel. This part got over, what I thought, too quickly, and we headed on back towards land, but not before stopping at an underwater sand bar that we could finally walk on. We got out and walked around the Atlantic Ocean, towards a small key that was the stereotypical island someone would get stranded on in a cartoon or something. After feeling like an adventurer for a while and seeing the quick movements of fish and sting rays swim past out legs, we loaded the boat up and prepared for the voyage back to land, as well as a lunch prepared by the guides: Mahi-Mahi and a salad bar. I chose the Octopus, which happened to be a hotdog cut like an octopus, but I also was able to get a piece of fish. I still prefer the hotdog!

The tour was a great way to relax out on the water, even if I felt like I was killing the environment while trying to stay alive myself. It was a great opportunity to see how amazing God’s world is that we live in!

Tonight and the rest of the day tomorrow is being spent in silence, to reflect on our lives and how God is working in each and every one of us. To reflect on why we are in Miami and what we are doing for the agencies that we have been placed into to work for the year, or semester in my case. Being silent is one of my worst skills at life, so it will be rather difficult, but something that I think will be food for reflecting and realizing just how great God really is to us!

RETREAT IN THE KEYS DAY 1

As the day started out, we all had to pack our bags for the weekend away on the first DOOR retreat of the year. Destination…Florida Keys! While packing, thoughts back to my first trip ran through my head. The trip where the bugs ate us alive, and the bites survived my scratching fingers for at least 2 weeks afterwards. However, we would be sleeping in a “condo” compared to a tent this time around. Therefore, packing seemed to be a bit easier this time.

As everyone had everything piled into my house, we took out to Heidi’s house, our director, supervisor and every other name given to one in charge of a group. The six of us would soon start the long drive across bridges and over islands. We set out and had made it about 5 miles when we spotted a man with a huge backpack and a nice little sign with “KEY WEST” printed on. A fifteen passenger van with six Christian Missionary people could not pass by this man, going to the place of his destination, and not pick him up, right? We turned around, and I stepped out of the van to “interview” him to see if he was safe. After two seconds of finding out he was German, and that he was 21, I thought he sounded safe enough and we loaded him up. With our final passenger aboard, we took out for the keys.

Our first stop was for lunch at a favorite of the DOOR house, Alabama Jack’s. A nice, typical hick fishing hole right in the Everglades; the last stop before actually being in the keys. Once again the food proved to us the reason they have won many awards. With Moritz, the man we now found out came to America to travel before going on with his education and who has been in America since September 6 and is staying until mid March, we continued with our plans, discussing a book talking about the diversity in Miami, and how different cultures have proven their ability to take over a major American city and run most of the major positions both politically and in business. He fit in as if he was too, a part of the group. He humored us with many jokes, including asking the waitress if he could sign up somewhere for the bar fights that he had heard they were having. It was much funnier to hear this scrawny German boy with his German accent, asking to sign up for a bar fight. Great humor!

We continued on with him, down a few of the keys until it was time to get our groceries for the trip. As we unload the van, we asked if he wanted to shop with us, or continue on his journey, seeing if he can catch another ride to try and catch the sunset on Key West. It would take us a bit in the store, altering his plans a bit. We bid ourselves goodbye, took a few pictures, and parted in our own directions.

We shopped for a good while, buying all sorts of goods that we can not afford on our poor budget, and even had a little fun doing it. Fun is something that usually does not go along with being in the grocery store. It never is a pleasing even for me. Anyways, after we got out of the grocery store, the first thing I spot is two cop cars, lights flashing, with an innocent looking German figure in front being questioned. Obviously, our friend Moritz was not trusted in these parts. Before anything would go wrong, we rushed over and rescued him from the cops. It really is a great story to be told!

We took him about 20 miles on down the keys with us, protecting him from harms way thus far. We then dropped him off at the last bus station for him to try and get a ride there, once again, parted our ways and left him in the horizon. What a great guy with a great spirit. I will most likely pick up a few more hikers in my life.

We got to our retreat center, a waterfront house on stilts overlooking the beauty of the Keys. After we unpacked everything, we did multiple tests, which seemed to be quite accurate, revealing that I am indeed the person I knew I was, but needed an expert to spend multiple years of his life to develop a formula, just to tell me an others, what we already knew about ourselves. While they seem cool, I already knew these things. It is just more impressive to me how accurate these studies are, and match me 100%. Maybe, just maybe in the future I will understand them a bit more, but at the moment, they just tend to creep me out a bit. These people have never met me, yet, seem to know me. Now, I think I am very extraordinary, and there is no one quite like Isaac Shue, however, this test proved to me that this guy has been secretly stalking me, or there are other very odd balls out wondering the country sides who are just the same as I am. I wish I could come across another number 6 in my life time!

The evening was spent talking about everything and anything from Texas to Iowa, across to North Carolina and down to the Keys. We hit every topic and even sipped a bit of wine from South Africa to go along with it. What a day for adventures, and even more are on their way, I feel, in the next two days here at the keys.

KEEP ON KEEPING ON!

As the work days come and go, school seems to be like a second nature. You go, teach, every now and then something funny, fun, or rewarding happens, but it feels more like it is such a routine every day that is never broken. However, I am talking about the normal classrooms. Every time I walk into another classroom, it is the same, boring seating arrangement. Same boring lessons. Same kids sleeping in the corner with their books up trying to look interested, and half the time I swear it is the same lessons being taught. It is as if the world is becoming little robots with certain things to teach and learn, only because the books tell you. If it isn't in the book, don't teach it. Life examples no longer are taught, yet, frowned upon because students should not know about our personal lives. Maybe this is just at Yvonne Learning Center, but either way, that is what I am experiencing, and it is getting to the point of exhaustion. Sometimes, however, I envy those classrooms with structure. The ones who can do anything they want in their rooms and it stays that way. Who actually HAVE books to teach out of, and are working with the age or children they are trained to work with. Last year I observed in a Special Education classroom and the teacher, who had been there over 25 years, told me the burn-out rate is 3 years in Special Education. While it seems high, I now know why. Also, that is in the typical Special Education classroom. The one at Yvonne Learning Center is anything but typical, however. While I have been hiding the details, may I fill you in on the reasons the burn-out rate here is about 2 weeks. I am passing the bar by about 16 weeks or so now, and only two to go.

My typical day:

First off, I walk into my classroom that looks like a typical tornado has went through it. Desks are everywhere, accompanied with chairs. Remotes to TV's, DVD players, and every other gadget that has a remote, are lying everywhere, half with batteries in them, half with the batteries littering the floors. Bookshelves are rearranged, table are flipped, my desk and files are nowhere to be found, later realized they are on the floor in the corner. My white board is somewhere else in the school. And chaotic noises fill the corridors as the voices are heard "worshipping" in the back room.

I take about 15 minutes, rearranging everything in the classroom to make it look like a normal learning environment. Re-sweep the floors, making them look presentable again, and make straight lines with desks and chairs, knowing they won't last past the first five minutes of class, as the students think they can sit where they want, moving the desks anywhere. I get out the appropriate books for class, even though no one dares take a book to do assignments or look at during class. Another, obvious waste of time on my part, but I continue on, doing the same everyday. The classroom is finally back to a learning environment, even though the AC is still not turned on.

Next, I walk to the back to catch the last or worship, as kids DON'T worship, but use it as a time to catch up with friends. While it is a Christian school, I am yet to see a Christian act by any student, and by the majority of the staff. It seems like church and Christ are not talked about, except when they are making a point when someone has been bad, but even then it is very atypical. When worship is over, my boys wait in the Middle School class for attendance to be taken then make the trek to my room. A whole ten feet that they always get lost in, and take 15 minutes to do. Sounds like the truth is being stretched, while really, I am being quite lax. It is more like 20 to 30 minutes but I am cutting them a break. This all is before "class" actually starts.

Settling everyone down enough to get out a journal and start writing takes a good 30 minutes. Same for spelling words, and getting out reading books. More time is wasted in this classroom by shear laziness than anything else. Well, this obviously reflects the teacher, right? I suppose it may, I will accept credit, however, I could pull guns on these boys and they still wouldn't move. Not to be funny, but the only thing I found to scare these boys is talk of the KKK. Mention those letters together and they get moving, however, can white guy in a black school really use these letters? Absolutely not. The only time they have been brought up is when they asked if Kansas has the KKK. Other than that, I am too scared, and too respectful to bring this up much more than that. However, it would work to get them moving.

Every once in a great while, I get them all working on something, always to be interrupted by someone in authority at the school, needing something done so they ask my boys. Is it really too much work for an adult to carry three chairs from a room? Here, yes it is! Of course it is my class that is interrupted to do these deeds. Not a class where the students don't have disabilities in reading and need all the time they can get in class. Structure is something that I work on continually, as Special Education needs more structure than any other classroom, however, it is something that is not allowed here. Perhaps the administration needs a lesson on how to write a blog; they call in a specialist on the idea, kick us out of the classroom into the back room, give us chairs from the preschool that are no taller than my ankles, and tell me to teach back there. Are you kidding me? My classroom is taken over multiple times for stupid reasons, not even allowed normal chairs, and I am supposed to teach a child, 16 years old, to read? I don't know any specialist in the world that would be able to pull this task off, let alone, an art major from the country.

Under the strange circumstances, I finally get the boys back on track in the back room, doing our work when the meeting up front is over, and they demand we come back up to the front, once again, stopping all progress on learning. And we aren't even to lunch.

Come 11:30, I am forced outside to watch the lunchroom, even though there is another teacher out there. One they listen to and respect, due to his skin color. Does this sound racist, absolutely, but is it? No way! It is the truth, and nothing more. So why am I forced to sit out there from 11:30-1, and then forced to take a break from 1-1:30 where I can not even see my students? This is 2 hours every day wasted, while my "Special Education" boys just sit in the back room under no supervision. They sit and do nothing, even though they have homework. But here, it would be a sin to do homework at school during free time. Shoot, it would be a sin to do homework at all!

After the break is taken, and everyone is full from lunch, everyone knows that nap time comes. So, my boys are called to the preschool to set up beds for the students because once again, it is not the teachers and administrations responsibility to do this, but the Special Education students in the school's responsibilities. Come 2 o'clock or so, the boys slowly make their way back to my classroom, as I am sitting there like a bump on a log. Quickly, knowing we have no time left, I go to the board and try a simple math lesson, to turn around and find everyone quietly sleeping, or up roaming around like they own the school. I am yet to finish a math lesson in one class period.

Finally, 2:55 comes and it is time to leave. All the students talk about during school is how they want to go home, yet, when the time comes, you can not get them to leave the school. They stay in my room, annoying me as I try to get some work done. I put a broom and mop in their hand and tell them to clean, which lasts for about 10 minutes, and 1/4 of the room. I have never seen someone mop so horribly, but, they think it is doable. Once I get them to leave, I have to stay until 4:15, which drags on longer than the teaching day itself. Before I go, however, if the floor really needs it, I sweep it again and mop it again, making it look very presentable, since it is right near the office. I then line everything up, leaving it the way I want it to look the next morning, with my desk looking like an orderly desk, and desks in straight lines. Why I bother, I don't really know. It is going to be a wreck the next day. But I "keep on keeping on" as my high school football coach told me in a recent email.

"You are making a difference whether you think you are or not. You just got to keep on keeping on!"

These are the words that get me through every day. I never knew how much power a simple phrase from a simple man had, but with them, I am changing the world!

FAMILY NIGHT

As the weeks come and go, it is hard to keep track of days as they all tend to run together. Between teaching, coaching, weddings, naps, waking up at 4, hospitals and room mates, everything blends together into one big blur. However, we always tend to remember Thursday nights; the nights set aside each week to come together as a house for supper and an evening of fun or learning. However, parent teacher conferences are always held on Thursday nights, and seem to come every three weeks. I have had more parent teacher conferences this year than I ever had as a student in my whole educational career. As I sit listening to the meeting, and meeting with parents, all I could think about was my room mates at home, participating in the most fun "family night" of them all. ELF night!

To get into the Christmas spirit, we have decided to all watch the movie ELF staring Will Ferrell as one of Santa's elves, who is really a human, that travels to NYC to meet his father. It is a classic Christmas movie. I love it, and watch it every year, once, twice or maybe even five times. It never gets old and laughs come out just as hard on the fifth time as the first. But, remember, I am stuck at parent teacher conferences.

I get out of there as soon as I can, and head straight for home, not stopping for any fast food or beach scenes. I can get these any time. But not ELF. Christmas only comes once a year, and I am not missing the first viewing.

As I walk in the door extremely excited, the "family" is around the table eating a Texas Chicken dish, and just finishing their last bites. Thankfully, they had saved a plate for me, as I filled with with the food, and began devouring everything in site, including the freshly cut avocados that never get old. Apparently, the movie had not been started yet, as they WERE waiting for me. This got my adrenaline rolling as I helped get the dishes done so we could watch it. (What a stupid thing to be excited about, BUT...the movie is totally worth it.)

We all sat down, got out the movie and controls, took our seats and began the movie. It proved to be just the same this time as the first, and just as funny. To make the movie more interesting, some of the house mates decided we should make paper snow flakes to go along with the movie. I showed my skill as I made the scissors fly around the edges. Now, after a very (what seemed to be) short movie, we have a house full of snow. Possibly the only house in Miami!

(What a horrible thing to blog about, but the day was about as bland as they have came. Well, the good parts were. I am just getting kind of tired of writing about negative things at school, and wanted a little cheer in my life!)

THE ULTIMATE EXPERIENCE

When one person signs up to do missions work in a place very unfamiliar, they are signing there life away to unfamiliar territories, as well as unfamiliar situations. This, I feel, would perfectly sum up my experience in Miami over the past few months. Lately, I have been very worried about what I would write new in my blogs, however, each day God surprises me with events that tend to prove I still do have stuff to write about.

With this being a huge part of my SST, I am really wanting to experience as much discomfort as possible, learning about different cultures and things happening in the world. However, come 4:42 this morning, I experience something to the extreme. Something I never thought I would see, and something I think I would feel alright about if I never experienced again. This is it: this is my story of the morning of December 2, 2009. Hold on to your hats, we are going for a ride.

Like experiencing a normal night, I wake up with it still dark outside and grab my phone to see what time it is. Not that I want to know, but more to see how much longer I have to sleep. Through my sleepy eyes, I read a blurry "4:42" on the screen, put it together with the fact it is still dark outside, and realize I have plenty of time to fall asleep and get a bit more rest before the alarm will go off at 7:15. As my head gently lays on my pillow, I hear a faint whisper of words coming from the mouth of JJ, laying just 5 feet from me in his own bed. Not knowing if he heard me moving around, or if he was having a dream, I whispered, "JJ?" just to be responded to with silence. He was sleeping. Possibly having a bad dream. After I was laying back down, approximately 4:45, I hear another noise. This however, is the sound of someone choking, gagging, possibly throwing up. Of course it is JJ. Maybe he is sick? Maybe he is dreaming? Or maybe, just maybe, this guy has a very weird "snore," as I have never heard him snore before. I sit up to see what is going on, but what I see will continue to haunt me during the dark, lonely nights.

This past August, JJ had what they thought may have been a seizure, but there were no witnesses or reports giving them the "ok" to list it as a seizure. But during this episode, his right shoulder was dislocated, making surgery a necessary step in getting it back to normal. Surgery; one that happened only 2 short weeks ago. Since then, he has been in a sling, having very minimal to no movement of his joint. However, they were still uncertain, and a little cautious, about what caused this episode. Therefore, yesterday, JJ spent the day at the hospital doing a 24 hour EEG, monitoring the brain to see if there was any notable activity. However, he made it home and announced they found nothing worth telling him. We were once again lost, wondering, and anxious to know what was going on. We were unaware we would soon have the definite truth.

About 4:47, after the choking and gagging sounds, I cleared the fog out of my eyes, grabbed my cell-phone and lit the back-screen, holding it in the direction to light up JJ's bed. I see his body thrusting violently, up and down, bouncing like a ball off his mattress. Being the responsible EMT that I am, I thought about what I just saw, as JJ laid quietly in his bed, seeming to have good rest now. "Was that a seizure? What just happened?" These were just a couple of thoughts that flooded my brain. I didn't know if I should call 911 or even wake up my room mates, so I just laid there, not wanting to over react if he was only having a dream. I would hate to wake someone up, and them think that I am retarded, waking them up in the middle of the night thinking they were having a serious seizure. So, I just laid there. Possibly five good, long minutes. Then, more puking sounds. More gasping for air. At this moment, I sat up and sat on the edge of my bed, watching as if I were in the front row of a Broadway musical. Then, his body rolled over, his arm came ripping out of his sling, and his head turned towards me revealing his eyes half open, but showing nothing but white. Then, once again, like being triggered by electric shock, his body started jerking around, going from the wall to the edge of the bed, throwing his new shoulder around in ways I cant even move my own shoulder. This man was going crazy. I spring into action, run to Julie's room, and softly tap on her door. A nice, moaning, "What?" came out of the room. "Julie, come out here," I said as I didn't want to shout through the door and scare her. "No, what is going on?" "JJ! JJ is having a seizure!" At that moment, her door, as well as Erin's flew open as they came out and went straight to my room. We all stood in the door, witnessing the last seconds of his second (that we witnessed) seizure. His body was still shaking and moaning around the bed. Then, like powered by a switch, he stopped.

We wanted to turn on the lights, but didn't want to startle him, so we turned on the lamps, slowly getting them brighter until we could turn on the lights, revealing JJ laying unconscious on his bed. After the lights were on for a bit, his eyes opened, but it was the most blank, scared look I have ever received from a person. It was obvious this guy didn't know what was going on. He could not answer any questions. He didn't know who anyone was. He was very alone and very scared.

He sat up, watching us, but didn't know what to do. We had called the ambulance and was just waiting for them to show up. As we talked with JJ, asking simple questions that he had no response to, the red and blue lights came around the corner and I went out to meet the ambulance. Three men came rushing, although that that fast, into our house and I showed them the room. JJ sat there with the blank look, wondering who the strange men were. "Hey," he said, with a very childish tone and grin on his face. He obviously didn't know what was going on, or who they were, but wanted to be kind, and welcome them to his room. The whole time that they were asking questions, he gave (brain damaged) answer, making us laugh, yet, feel bad for laughing.

JJ tried to stand and walk away, but when the EMT asked where he was going he had no answer. "Sit down sir," the EMT demanded. JJ looked very confused, then, gave a very funny look to us all, threw his hand up straight into the air, gave a careless moan, and fell straight backwards into his bed like a little kid throwing a fit. This man was making a scene. One I wish I had on camera. Words can not explain the humor this guy was unknowingly causing us. While we were scared and no one laughed, I think down inside we were all snickering a bit.

The walked him, stumbling, to the front door where they met him with the stretcher, loaded him up and took him to the ER. We sat at the front table as the sun was coming up, pondering about what we had all just experienced. Should we go to the hospital? We all have work in an hour, but at what point does a room mates health over power the responsibilities of a volunteer job? Is it bad to tell a boss you cant make work because your room mate just had a few grand mal seizures while you helplessly watched in awe? I decide this seems very reasonable, so I get ahold of work, tell them I will be late, and take off to the ER.

Julie and I arrived to find JJ being his normal self. As we walked in, he had a smile on his face, happy to see us. It was good to hear him call us by name. The neurologist was at his side, questioning him until we came and found out I was an eyewitness. Therefore, he chose the more reliable source, and asked me to replay the events of the night out loud for him. After my short speech, including hand gestures, pelvic thrusting, and throwing of my arms, he turned to JJ and said, "There is no longer any question. You are having seizures."

Why we have to go through this to find out he is indeed having seizures is more than I can know, but leaves us wondering what God has planned for our house, and specifically JJ, as he lays in the hospital wondering, "Why him?" Is there some sort of lesson we are learning, or something we are all being prepared for? I wish it would just all make sense, and be done with. And, for the sake of JJ, I wish it would all just get figured out quickly, so the right measures could be made and get him back to his healthy self.

The last I heard, he was doing fine, as he was watching the History channel in his hospital room. They are keeping him to watch for 24 hours, making sure everything is a little more normal before releasing him back to our care. Now, with hopefully a little more answers, I hope life can get back to normal for JJ, especially with his arm. Hopefully, the little bout of physical therapy that he gave it today was not too much, causing him to have more surgery. But, from all of this, I now understand how someone can dislocate an arm while sleeping and have no recollection of how it happened. Our bodies are miraculous machines!

ONCE AGAIN...

Laying on my bed, the clock reads 5:32 PM or something close by as I look at my homepage on facebook. I notice, out the left corner of my eye, a glowing circle hovering just above the rooftops of the neighboring houses out my window. Facing the Eastern coast, the glow, later, proves to be that of the full moon rising into the deep, navy sky. Suddenly, answers start flowing from the moon, along with its brilliant image, straight to my head. Why was today one of the worst days of my short teaching career?

School, once again, managed to come in the morning, which means a school full of rambunctious children ready to learn. Or, because their parents want them to attempt to learn, yet, not want to be a big enough part of their lives to show interest in their educational lives. Go figure! This extremely sad fact really is seeming to catch up with me, as working with the parents and children seems more and more difficult each day. Why do parents still breast feed their children (not really, but figuratively speaking) when they are 16 years old.

Today, once again, was the day that grades, or progress reports, were going out. And, once again, grades seemed to be less important to anyone in my class than the gum they spread on the back of my chair when I was in Illinois this past weekend. How to get people to care about their grades seems almost impossible. Currently, however, I am wondering why I even care so much. A grade is only a letter. Anyone can get a "grade," but not everyone can learn.

While my boys really got under my skin today, I noticed something huge. They are not making grade, but the change that has occurred in their education since day one has jumped, not just to the next level, but quite possibly 3 or 4 levels. My main goal was to get these boys reading when I started on that scary day just four or so months ago. Now, with ten days left for me to be in the classroom teaching, these boys are asking to come read aloud to me, and in front of the class. They are wanting everyone to see that they can sound out any word, big or small, and get the right annunciation of it, even if they still don't know exactly what it means. Finally reaching this goal, I must work on these boys to learn context clues, helping them define those words in a reading that they do not know. Is this possible in ten days? Is it possible to get 4 boys to be able to read in three months after they haven't read for 16 years? I love it when I have goals and dreams that seem unimaginable, then knock them out!

Ten days to do the unthinkable. These boys, even though they do not make the grade their parents are wanting, or act like they want when they come and yell at me for giving D-'s, are going to understand what they read. This is a sentence I never thought I would be able to blog about. Praise God! Through all the difficulties and discouraging days, I am starting to see the glass filling up instead of evaporating. For once, when leaving the school mad, I still left with a smile deep down inside.

BACK TO REALITY

It is sort of weird to say I am, "Back to reality" as my plane lands in Ft. Lauderdale just an hour or so ago. What a real rough life to be where it is still 80 degrees outside, even though the sun has been down most likely 7 hours already. However, I recently realized, is where you sleep the majority of your nights and have a job to go to every morning. But shouldn't Florida be a vacation? A place where only fun things happen, with no worries at all?

Being in Illinois and Indiana this past week, with all my good friends and family around, has really made me appreciate them all a lot more. It is the people you are surrounded with that makes the places you are at amazing, or terrible. Hearing my brother, who moved into to Bermuda where he knows no body, say this, I wondered how he possibly could mean it. He lives in paradise, but seems unhappy at times. Yet, I also recently moved to "paradise" yet, and not experiencing paradise. I feel like I did experience a bit of paradise this weekend, even in rainy and cold Goshen/Chicago/Champaign, Illinois. Why? Because it felt like home. I was surrounded by ones I love, and who love back. I had no worries. It was a priceless week. Even though I was not constantly having fun, constantly comfortable, or experiencing breathtaking sights, I still had a great time. One I would, "write home about!"

I am excited to be back in Miami, with the people I am learning to love, however, it IS back to work and reality for the next month of my life as I finish up DOOR very soon. I look forward to everything that I am quickly going to miss. I count down the days, but I don't know why. Is it to go back to school where I will quickly start counting down the days there as well, or is it just to move on to something new. If either one of these are true, or both, I know it is to return to my paradise, of being with those who treasure my presence as much as I treasure theirs, and I simply can not wait.

As I go back to school tomorrow, I look forward to jumping over the last hurdle I will face for the year, and try to finish the race stronger than I started it. I hope I can walk away from this place with people saying I taught them as much as they have taught me. An experience like DOOR, while it ends physically, is one that will continue to help build me as a person through the rest of my physical life on Earth, and I am just as anxious to continue on with it, as I am to end it. I pray that I can finish my year off with a smile, remembering all the good that came out of my adventure!

THANKSGIVING

I roll out of bed with a smile on face, ready to fly to Chicago to go see all my friends. Thanksgiving, for the first time, would be spent with no family, yet, mostly by myself in airports.

Alicia drove me to Ft. Lauderdale early in the morning to catch my flight into Chicago Midway. Not really thinking, I had thrown on my shorts and flip-flops to fly in; comfort, both wearing and weather wise. I usually don’t throw on jeans and bundle up when it is 85 degrees outside. This would seem smart until a bit later in the trip: obviously!

As I checked in, I noticed that I was in the very last spot to board the plane. Southwest has a system that gives you a number, then you line up in that order, then board the plane and take the seat of your choice. Being the last I didn’t have much of an option. However, I did spot an exit row seat empty next to a larger older couple so I took it. It was the most leg room I have ever had on a flight. Only bad part was, this man was large and loved to talk. While being squished against the window, I managed to make space for conversation.

After 4 tiring hours, I finally got to Chicago, and back on my own without the “couple” protecting me as if I needed protection from two 80-year olds. Come on! I live in the ghetto of Miami! Oh well, I shouldn’t complain that someone is looking out for me. After collecting my bags I sat and waited for an hour until Nate could pick me up and continue the trip to Champaign, IL to get him hitched.

While I have grown up in Kansas for 22 years and been in Miami only 3 months, I was extremely weird to drive through Illinois and see nothing but fields. I never knew you could be converted to a different place so fast. This place is just so desolate. The only skyscrapers I see are elevators and the only people to look at are white and speak English. Something I have not been around for quite some time, but I must say, it is finally comforting to speak English to anyone you know and KNOW that they will be able to respond. Never in my dreams did I think I would feel a slight but uncomfortable being surrounded by white people. (Not that anything would be bad in this situation obviously, but with what I have learned in my time down in Miami, it is just weird to not see any diversity.)

The rest of the evening was spent catching up with friends and eating Burger King, which, happens to be the only thing I ate for Thanksgiving this year. Twice. Burger King for lunch as well as supper! I saved a turkey this year!

THANKSGIVING DINNER??? I MISS MY MOMMY!

Snow, family, fun, football, cold, hot drinks, smell of candy and things baking. These are all things that symbolize the greatness of the Thanksgiving Holiday that is just around the corner. It is always a festive time, especially one, full of food. When Thanksgiving comes, it is always fun to see how many different Thanksgiving meals you are going to get. Grandma, mom, an aunt's, a simple school lunch, and maybe one or two others. The taste of turkey and stuffing is something everyone always looks forward to. Being in Miami away from all family, I did not know if anything would be done on Thanksgiving for me, or around this time. Then, word spread around school of a Thanksgiving Feast that was going to occur on this Tuesday, November 24! I could not wait. I WAS going to get to eat a Thanksgiving meal. Little did I know, I would soon be eating something I never would forget.

Before I say anything, I must say, after eating everything, it was a very good meal that had the best taste I could ever ask for. What makes it memorable may be what exactly I ate, or how something was prepared.

We had mothers come in and decorate the school while the children diligently worked, trying to sneak a peek every now and then around the divider to see what was going on. Everyone was in good spirits as they happily waited to indulge in the festivities we had planned, starting with the Feast of Feasts. As I pondered around the food area, I was very impressed with displays of turkeys, all dressed to look spectacularly delicious to anyone who looked at them. Two turkeys to be exact; making sure everyone had their fill plus more. Smells circled the school, making everyone more hungry as they waited. Finally the time had came, and children started the line a class at a time. While they wanted to dish everything up themselves, the mothers did it like an old fashioned lunch line at Harper Elementary as the plates were passed down the line, then handed to the student at the end. They then proceeded to their desks and ate in the classrooms with their friends close by. After everyone had finished, I got in line, hoping for a heaping plate since everyone had been through. I got exactly what I wanted. As they filled my plate, I kindly declined the macaroni salad and something else that didn't look so swell, so I just said I was allergic to it. Worked like magic. I got my plate, and took my excited stomach to my room and sat in some peace and quiet. Many colors flooded my plate and I tried picking what to eat first. The bright pink and white cranberry Jell-O salad and whipped cream salad was obviously the best choice. Especially since they had given me two helpings. I loaded my spoon with a mouth full, opened wide and clamped down trying to savor every single ounce of it. At that moment, my taste buds sent shocks through my spine alerting me that something was wrong. My sweet taste buds that had been so finely prepared were thrown for a loop when something completely different was present in my mouth. While in many homes I have been in over Thanksgiving, cranberry something is on the table and a tradition. However, I suppose this has something to do with Haitian-American culture, they believe that pickled-egg potato salad should replace the cranberry, giving onlookers false hope of receiving a nice dish. Instead, this...STUFF....was served to me, punishing me for assuming too much. I could have died!

After I cleaned the puke up off the ground (This is a joke. Once I realize what it was, I ate it and it was fine, just not my Jell-O salad I was craving) I proceeded to the turkey. I had not slabs like I am used to it being cut into, but chunks. So, I took a chunk, inserted into my mouth and chomped down again. After this I immediately was looking up my cousin Erin Johnson's (a dentist) phone number. For it felt like every tooth was broken off into my mouth. Apparently, the knives they used are sharp enough to filet right through bone, cutting the turkey into a grid or something, avoiding taking the bones out. Why take them out when we can cut through them? Well, fine! OK! I understand your concern! Just please, next time, let people know this is not a traditional Thanksgiving Feast. Please and thank you!

Since I have no teeth, I proceed onto the mashed potatoes since I don't really have to chew them. Quickly, I decide this too was not a good idea, as the stuff in my mouth tasted like mashed potatoes, yet, was something very, extremely cold. Almost frozen. I did not want to say anything because I want to be culturally polite. So, I do the next best thing. Find Alicia, the only other white person within 20 miles, who happens to be the secretary and ask her about it. She informs me that it is indeed mashed potatoes, but when she tried to heat them up, she got yelled at so she just set them on the table. I should have realized that I was the last person through, and no one had touched these potatoes. Usually a sign of some sort, so, I took mental note of that one too.

As the meal was slowly declining, I decided to stick to the black beans and rice they had prepared, as well as the fried plantains, a traditional Haitian meal. It...was...SPECTACULAR! I should have just stuck to three plate-fulls of this instead.

After downing the last of my plate, someone asked if I wanted sweet potatoes also. While I love sweet potatoes, I kindly declined wondering if they were even orange or sweet or even potatoes. I was 2 for 5 on guessing what things were so I was going to stick to my current odds and turn it down. I think I made the right choice!

To refresh everyone...The meal was very good and lots of work was put into the meal to prepare it. I may sound ungrateful, yet, I was not at all. I was so happy that the time, energy, and most of all love was put into making this feast. It is just, when working with different cultures, things are prepared different ways. When it is a thing like Thanksgiving dinner, that everyone is used to their own traditions, it is hard not to get expectations that it is going to be mom's mashed potatoes with ranch and cream cheese. This by far was the best meal we have had this year at YLC, it would have just been better with an instruction packet on how to properly consume each thing on the plate!

DECISIONS! WOW...

I really thought I left everything at home as I left Kansas just three short months ago. I thought everything would be totally new. A new culture, new food, new language, new habits and definitely new people, however, something has been proven to be the same. Kids all around the world still want to make stupid decisions, and are still trying to make the same excuses I thought I invented in school.

Being quite a young teacher, I still understand the ways kids are thinking, their habits, attitudes, and how they all change on the spur of the moment, just depending what is going on. Yet, they all seem so impressed when I catch them doing something, or not doing something. For example, I heard someone chewing on something today and told them to spit it out. Since I was not looking at them, they could not figure out how I knew they were chewing on something. They revealed it was sunflower seeds, so I told them to spit all of them out and empty their pockets. I got back to work on the board, not watching them as I figure being 16 years of age, I don't need to walk them to the trash. While writing, I heard one small thing fall in the trash and the student return to their seat. Without turning around, I told them to go back and spit them ALL out. Once again, they were so impressed that I could tell that without seeing them.

Like I said earlier, these kids think everything was reinvented by them, even though excuses and the same behavior has been around since before my parents were here. If they only knew the high school I went to, and what all went on "behind the scenes" there, they would quickly learn that they are not so tough, and "street smart" as they think they are. They have never been offered weed at school or taken shots on breaks at their lockers. Or have they?

Today I was in a hurry to get reading books to the boys and didn't want to put up with them slowly getting out of their chairs and walking to their bags, therefore, I went to their bags to get them for them instead. At the sight of me grabbing his bag, one student jumped up yelling that I had no business looking in his bag. At this moment, while it doesn't take a NASA engineer to figure out, I knew there was something being hidden that was not school appropriate. Possibly another knife to use on the teacher, or if I was lucky, a gun that would take care of me instantly, leaving no pain or suffering. By his startled reaction, I found it very necessary for him to stay in his seat while I searched. He found it necessary to try and get the bag from me, but once again I proved to them that they can not out power their teachers, or outsmart them. After a simple glare (This boy is the weakest boy in the class, and the biggest softy in the school. However, he tries so hard to act tough, but is only laughed at by his peers) he decided to back down and let me search.

Now usually, I would just do a brief, slide-my-hand-in-each-pocket" search, but I knew something was sitting inside waiting to be pulled out. Anymore, students' bags have about 30 pockets, just asking for them to hide something from a teacher, specifically a weapon. After opening pocket 29 I still found nothing and thought that I may have over reacted or over read his actions. However, I was not about to have another knife blade pulled out in my classroom. I don't need my face flashed around CNN for the next week. As I opened the last pocket, there was a strange little bottle sticking out. Now in Haitian culture, and possibly African-American as well, these young boys have just as many accessorizing bottles as girls I know. They all have lotion, hair spray, brushes and all, making my room turn into a beauty salon every day. I just figured it was another bottle of lotion, so I decided to put it down. After dropping it, I thought it would be funny to see what scent of lotion this boy uses, so I picked it up, unscrewed the cap, and took a whiff. After all my nose-hairs grew back and I was able to see straight again, I realized this was indeed NOT lotion, but a bottle of alcohol. When asked, they were all quick to respond the same name of the Haitian cocktail, but neglected to tell me any alcohol was present. I took it around to Haitian teachers and they were all in shock, knowing exactly what it was. A home mixed drink made with coconuts and other tropical juices and I believe vodka. When asked, he admitted he brought it to drink at lunch, but had no idea it had alcohol. Of course he didn't know alcohol was in it! Only the reason he admitted to stealing it from his parents cabinet. After a long talking to, and tears were cleared up, his parents were called to the school and I had a big meeting with his mother and him, as he stood with tears flowing out of his tightly clenched eyes. "You just wait till your dad gets home!" (Another similarity between cultures, or maybe the world. No kid in the world wants to be home when his father hears that he took some booze to school.)

While this was a very illegal move, the cops or authorities were not notified, but taken care of between the school, parents and myself. It is so weird to be part of, let alone in charge, of big issues like this, giving a very stern speech to a young man about how this could effect his life both physically and politically for the rest of his life. It seems like only yesterday I was sitting in school, listening to motivational speakers talking to us after a huge party was busted. God has put me in some weird situations this past semester that I never thought I would be in. Yet, I am loving every minute more and more!

THE GIFT OF FAMILY

With the sun shining brightly and temperatures reaching to the upper eighties, it seemed to be a great day to go to the beach and get some much needed relaxation. The weekend has been very lively, reaching into the wee hours of each night. For me, it has definitely been the latest hours I have stayed up since coming down South. Therefore, why not go to the beach and try to catch an afternoon nap while getting some rays? Having two weddings in the next month, both near the Chicago area, I have told myself I WILL be the darkest person at these weddings! Well, darkest Caucasian. Living in Miami, there is no reason I should not have the best tan of my life. What would I tell people when they ask why I have no color to my skin? Therefore, like I always procrastinate, I am trying to hit the sandy beaches as much as possible in the next few days, and today proved to be a great day to get color. Lots of it. A nice, warm, red color all over the front half of my body.

After being at the beach most the day, my parking tolls were running out, forcing me to pay more or just return home. Today, Megan's family was to arrive, so I decided to just come back to the house and meet the McCarty gang. After returning home, I noticed Megan's car to be gone, then found out I had just missed them as they headed to the beach. I called Megan and she had just been honking at a huge van in South Beach, thinking it was me, later to realize it was a vacuuming company, or some sort of cleaner. We got a good laugh out of that. This gave me a chance to come home, catch up on some sleep and get cleaned up before they got back.

For dinner, we all went out to Havana Harry's, the local Cuban joint just to the south of our house a few miles. It was my first time to the restaurant, yet, proved to be one worth going back for. We all enjoyed huge plates full of tons of food, then shared god fellowship as we sat around the table and chatted for a bit before leaving.

It is fun to get to know the family of a room mate, as I am the only one that has had a guest in the house thus far. Stories always help one realize where a person came from, but meeting the important people in their lives sparks a deeper respect for where they came from and shows us who they came from. They will be in Southern Florida for the whole week, but are leaving the house for the Keys in the morning.

MY THIRD HOME

Being in Florida, which I will now call my second home, I have really grown accustomed to what is surrounding me.  Lots and lots of buildings, surrounded and filled with people of every color and culture imaginable.  I heard there are about 60+ languages spoken around Miami, with each obviously having a different culture.  In these cultures, there are also subcultures, dividing the people even more diversely.  To get away from all the chaos of the matter, why not get away to a place where you are guaranteed to be back in my own culture, or, a subculture of the English language, and one not far from that of Harper County.

I have taken a liking to the Everglades and have started finding myself out there quite bit.  A little "home away from home" if you will.  Going on fan-boat rides has became an occurrence that I didn't really think about doing before coming out here.  I have now been aboard three different boats touring parts of the Everglades.  And, every boat ride tends to be a bit different.

Having a great experience with my parents at one just a few weeks ago, the female room mates and myself went back there, and took a ride.  While we went on a cold day in the past, today was nice, with a temperature of about 85 degrees.  It was a perfect day to be on a boat, and even better day to sun if you are an alligator.  

While waiting in line to get on the boat (or maybe we were on it, I don't remember) a loud truck drove by with a HUGE confederate flag waving behind it as the driver hung out the window and yells, "GET DRUNK AND HAVE FUN!"  This was the first clue that we no longer were in the city.  There is no way this guy would still be breathing had he done that anywhere near Miami City Limits.  After sharing a little laugh and a little flashback from high school, we got on with the trip.  As we took out, the tour guide started sliding the boat around giving us a real fun and memorable ride.  He also proved to have some really good (lame puns) jokes.  However, he was a lot of fun, but it was hard to know when he was serious.  He stopped and told the ones with shorts (My room mates and I) to get in.  Well, who really gets in alligator infested water when someone says to.  I hesitated a bit, then jumped in.  Why not?  Only really have the chance once, or in my case, every other weekend.  The water was nice and chilly, feeling pretty good on this warm day.  The ground below the water was quite different, as it felt like walking on a sponge.  While it was knee deep, it allowed us to wade around close to the boat, within jumping distance if we saw the spikes on the back of an alligator coming at us.  After a few pictures and laughs, we tried to get in the boat, but my first step, I landed in a sink hole and went in up to mid thigh, soaking my shorts!  I was sure I was going all the way in, but managed to grab hold of an arm, and got pulled it.

After safely getting in the boat, we took out across the Everglades, going through grass and trees.  Finally the captain stopped telling us he sensed a gator close by.  Suddenly, a huge head popped out from under our boat and an 8-foot gator swan out from under us and climbed into the grass by our sides.  It was AWESOME!  He was so big, yet, seemed so tame.  It was all I could do not to reach out and grab his tail.  We continued on, seeing about 10 more gators, 15 more turtles, hundreds of birds and all different forms of wildlife like fish and bugs.  While the first two trips could have been more eventful in terms of seeing things, this one really made up for it, as it seemed like I was on a crew filming Planet Earth.

Afterwards on the way home we stopped at a BBQ joint that looks real junky (which is the universal sign for the best tasting food!)  It proved to be quite good, as I got a gator burger and fries.  What a great way to end a day on the water surrounded by the giant lizards.  

FINALLY FRIDAY!

Once again, the loved weekend has drawn close again, only having to survive another day at school.  And when I say survive, it is not a word to be throw around to sound funny.  It is a serious matter.  I actually do "survive" each and every day that I leave that building.  There are some days I honestly don't think I will come out alive and surviving is proven to be a skill, not a given.

Over the past few weeks, I have had several conferences with the principal and administration of the school, a.k.a the Beauregard family.  In these meetings, we have discussed the future of the 5 young boys in my class that I work with every day.  While they are falling behind in every class listed on the grade card, Mrs. Beauregard believes that these individuals only need to focus on reading.  I am instructed to teach only phonics, spelling, reading, writing and a bit of math.  When they decide they want to read, and finally catch on to it, she believes everything else will come with time, but their reading skills really need to develop soon or they never will.  To put this into action, I have taken Social Studies and Science almost completely out of my class.  This is very hard to do as they are some of my favorite subjects and ones that I feel I can teach better than Reading.  However, I am listening to the administrative decisions and going on with teaching Reading.  During each day, we spend about and hour or two working only on our spelling words, breaking them up into syllables, looking at letter combinations and when they appear in other words, long and short vowels and what makes them this way, as well as definitions and actually using these words in sentences.  This tends to be the hardest for them to do.  They can all memorize the spelling of the word long enough to pass the test, but actually making them put them to use in a sentence is what sinks their boat on each test.  Therefore, we put tons of effort into getting them to do that this week.

Early Friday morning, I have them all study a bit on their own as I finish us with some grading then start to help them.  We go over sentences, definitions and actual spellings.  I show them a few ways that helped me growing up, such as making acrostics.  (I think it is called acrostics)  This really seemed to help them.  Nervous about if they were going to make the same grades of F's that they have all year, I had them clear their desks and get out some paper.  I started giving words, demanding that I only repeat them once, making them pay close attention.  

After giving all the words, I gave them a while to write a sentence per word and waited patiently for them to finish.  After getting them all turned in, I started the grading process.  Usually I use about a pen-full worth of ink to grade their tests each week.  I got my fresh pen out and went to work.

My two best students' tests were on the top, proving to be once again the highest in the class.  Out of 20 possible points they missed about 3 each, but nailed the extra credit, giving them A's.  The first time ever.  Then came my two worst students who have never received an A on anything except lunch.  After checking a few wrong, they got upset cause they really believed they had done good.  Cursing me, they turned and walked away swearing that "I" always give them bad grades.  I grade to hard.  (Personally, I don't understand how checking a word wrong because it is misspelled is being to tough, but hey, to each their own.)  As they walk away, I am tickled silly to actually see they had the rest of the test correct, even the extra credit.

For the first time this year, I handed out 0 F's, 0 D's, 1 C, 2 B's and and A (One boy was not there for the test).  I have never been more proud for a group of people as I was standing there in my classroom.  For once I felt as if my work had been completed for a bit.  Maybe this is one of those moments teachers talk about where you just have a smile because you know that you have done something to change a person.  It is something like that, that makes me excited to get back to work and give them more words to see if they can keep it up.  My weekend has been that much better due to 5 boys actually trying in my class!